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Not Your Ordinary Walk in the Park by Sandy
 
Chapter 6
 
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The trip back down the hill was accomplished without further incident. Spike led the way glancing back occasionally to make sure Buffy was following with no problem. Buffy wasn't sure whether to be touched, irritated, or squicked by his attentiveness.

There were still a couple hours of daylight left when they reached the forest floor again, but Buffy's legs were shaking with fatigue.

"Spike, do you think we could make camp early tonight?"

"I thought I saw water a couple miles in. You think you can walk that far?"

"Sure," she said tiredly.

"Want a piggy-back ride?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Uh, no."

He smirked at her, turned and led the way back into the forest.

They found the water and a place to camp. When they came to the stream, Spike had insisted that they bathe Buffy's wounded arm. He used gentle care as he washed the gash and patted it dry, stopping if he saw her flinch and asking if he was hurting her. She always answered no, and their eyes would lock before one of them looked away. When he was satisfied that it was clean, he carefully rewrapped it. When he had finished, he said, "Look, you just rest and I'll get the firewood."

Buffy was surprised and touched at his offer and considered it – for about two seconds – but then her stubborn Slayer pride kicked in. "I can get the firewood, Spike. You just get everything ready for it."

He shrugged and she went in search of wood.

***

By the time they had the fire going, the sun had set and the temperature had dropped. Buffy ate more fruit for her dinner and warmed herself in front of the roaring fire while Spike went out to hunt. She was getting tired of fruit, but the thought of eating the meat from one of the animals that Spike had drained made her slightly nauseous. Maybe tomorrow, she thought as she stretched out in front of the fire, she'd ask Spike to go fishing for her again. She awakened when she felt a body wrapping around her.

"Spike?" she murmured sleepily.

"Yeah, Slayer, go back to sleep," he said softly.

Buffy twisted around until she was facing him. She rested her head on his shoulder, wrapped her arm around his waist and entwined her legs with his. His arms tightened around her enfolding her in his coat, and as Buffy was drifting off to sleep again she felt the briefest brush against top of her head.

She sighed contentedly, snuggled closer, and slept.

The next day when she awakened, she felt so tired and sluggish that she had to struggle to open her eyes. She wasn't surprised to find that she'd once again wrapped herself around Spike. In fact, she was pretty sure that this was how she'd fallen asleep last night after he'd joined her.

"You awake, Slayer?"

"No."

His chuckle rumbled in her ear. "Want to sleep a bit more?"

She sighed and rolled over onto her back. He rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his hand, watching her.

"I hate not having my strength."

"Yeah, I understand."

She looked over at him. "Is this what it's like for you? Back home, I mean. Feeling all weak and helpless and useless?"

"Well, I'm not useless, but yeah, that's how I feel. The Big Bad's just a big neutered puppy. 'ts not fun."

She turned onto her side and propped her head on her hand, mirroring him.

"I'm not sorry you can't kill, Spike."

He reached out his hand and brushed her hair back from her face. "Not surprising. You being the Slayer and all."

The touch of his fingers as they skimmed over her cheek made her shiver, and she felt a pulse between her thighs. She was unnerved by the intimacy of the gesture and her response to it.

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" she asked suddenly. "Or just taken off and left me?"

He went still, his hand frozen in midair. "Told you. I may need you to get back home," he said lowering his hand to his side.

"But you can live here, Spike. There are animals here for you to eat."

"A bloke could go insane with only himself for company, pet."

Buffy grinned wickedly. "Yeah, I could see how having only you to talk to would make ya crazy."

One eyebrow rose. "I don't notice you being any dafter than usual, Slayer."

"That's because half the time we aren't talking to each other," she quipped.

"And that's because half the time you're a giant pain in the arse, Slayer," he said with a smirk.

"Hey!" she said rising up on her elbow. "I am not. Take that back!"

"Make me."

"Oh, I'll make you all right," she said as she lunged at him knocking him over onto his back. She straddled him and although she knew he could have easily overpowered her, she captured his wrists and pinned them over his head.

"The mighty Slayer has beaten the evil vampire once more," she crowed. "Now, take back what you said."

"Bugger off," he said, laughter sparkling in his eyes. Breaking free of her hold he twisted until she was trapped under him, her wrists pinned above her head. "Now what are you going to do, Slayer?" he asked with a smirk. She wiggled under him, laughing and demanding release. It was all fun and games and squeals and laughter until their eyes met.

Buffy felt the now familiar current thrum through her body. Spike looked from her eyes to her lips and Buffy's breath caught in her throat. Slowly, so very slowly, he lowered his head. A tiny voice in the back of her mind was screaming, Don't let him kiss you! but Buffy's heart was pounding so loudly that it was drowned out.

She wasn't sure what she expected, but it certainly wasn't what she got. The kiss he brushed across her mouth was feather light. He nibbled gently on her lower lip, tugging it into his mouth and sucking it tenderly. Releasing her lip, he circled her mouth with his tongue, barely touching her. She gasped as shivers coursed down her body and she opened her mouth to him.

He resisted her silent plea and continued his gentle assault, brushing his mouth lightly across hers, nipping at her bottom lip, licking her lips with flicks of his tongue. When she moaned, he covered her mouth with his, slid the tip of his tongue over hers and then withdrew. He made his way from her mouth to her jaw with light, teasing kisses, and when he reached her neck, she turned her head to allow him access.

The tiny voice in her head screamed at her Vampire! but she ignored it again as his mouth caressed her skin. He nibbled at her neck and his tongue darted out sending pulses of pleasure throughout her nervous system. Buffy moaned again and thrust her hips up. Her body was racked with chills and longing and desire. She opened her legs and allowed him to nestle between her thighs.

Spike raised his head and Buffy was mesmerized by the desire she saw reflected in them. He whispered her name and brought his mouth to hers. This kiss was deeper, more demanding. She kissed him back ravenously and began tugging frantically, trying desperately to free her arms from captivity. He released the hold he had on her wrists and rolled over so that she was on top of him. She grabbed handfuls of his hair and eagerly opened her mouth to his questing tongue. Buffy was beyond thinking now. She only wanted, needed. She pulled back and now it was her turn to tease and taste his skin. He moaned when she kissed her way down his neck, sucking and nipping and licking, learning each pleasure spot on the way. Buffy could feel the hardness of his arousal as he thrust up against her, and the ache between her thighs was becoming painful. She wanted him to touch her. His arms wrapped tightly around her, and he rolled them over so that he was on top again, his mouth slipping to her neck.

Pain tore though Buffy's body and she began pushing at his shoulders, trying to break away from him. He raised his head, looking at her with passion-glazed eyes.

"Buffy?"

"Get off, Spike. Now! Get off!"

He stiffened and rolled off her, springing to his feet. She jumped to her feet rubbing at her left buttock. Kicking out, she knocked away the sharp rock that had dug into her flesh.

"Stupid rock," she muttered still rubbing at the pain.

"That's why you stopped me?" His voice was quiet behind her.

She glanced at him and then blushed red to the roots of her hair.

"Yeah."

Spike chuckled. "Poor Buffy. Come here, love. I'll make the hurt go away." He reached out to her, but she stepped away.

"Don't, Spike. This is so not a good idea."

The smile faded from his face. "You thought it was a good idea a minute ago."

"A minute ago I wasn't thinking at all."

"Buffy..."

But she held up a hand and stopped his words.

"Don't. Let's just get going, okay?"

He was silent for a long while and Buffy thought he was going to argue with her, press her. Instead he simply nodded his head, his face cold and remote, and walked away from her.

***

Buffy felt miserable as she followed Spike. He maintained a substantial distance between them, his anger and frustration emanating from him in almost visible waves. She didn't blame him for his anger. She'd allowed this whatever-it-was that was brewing between them to get out of hand. She didn't even blame him for trying to get in her pants because a) he was a guy and b) he was evil and soulless so he couldn't see why this was such a bad, bad thing. Oh, and c) he was a guy.

Buffy sighed. And what was her excuse? Because the teeny, tiny voice in her head that she hated to listen to - the one that told her only the truth – was telling her that she wanted in his pants every bit as much as he wanted in hers. And how had that happened? They were mortal enemies. He was a killer, a vampire, her natural prey. She wasn't supposed to find vampires hot. She was supposed to dust them. And she was good at it. But then Angel came along, her tall, dark, and handsome mysterious stranger – who at least had a soul, she comforted herself – and now, Spike – who did not have a soul and was only held in check by a chip in his head. And who had not tried to kill her since they'd come to this dimension where she wasn't the Slayer and his chip didn't work. And who had caught her a fish and picked fruit for her and gave her water and bandaged her wounds, and made her laugh, and kept her warm at night and didn't try to bite her even when she'd offered up her neck to his mouth.

Buffy shook her head. It was wrong. She knew it. Really. She did.

And what about Riley? the teeny tiny voice asked.

Buffy closed her eyes at that thought, tripped over a tree root, and opened her eyes again. Riley was a good man, strong and honest and brave and all the other boy scouty things that every woman wanted in a man. He was a nice guy. The kind of clean-cut, all-American guy her friends wanted her to be with. The kind of guy with whom she could have a somewhat normal life.

The kind of guy who loved her.

And what do you feel about him?

I love him too, Buffy thought stubbornly.

Do you? You love him so much you mack on the first vampire that comes along?

Oh, that is so not true, Buffy thought defensively. It was a-a thing. That was all. A response to the stress I'm under here.

I see. And you always respond to stress by having make-out sessions with your mortal enemies?

Not enemies! One. One mortal enemy.

Spike.

Yeah, Spike, Buffy sighed. The worst of her mortal enemies because for some reason she never could seem to kill him.

You don't seem to have any problem kissing him though.

Well, the kissage thing isn't going to happen again, she thought forcefully.

You sure about that?

Shut up!

The voice went silent, but Buffy was troubled. What did it mean, really, that she'd kissed Spike this morning? And really, really enjoyed kissing Spike this morning? She did care about Riley, but he hadn't crossed her mind when she'd been kissing Spike. In fact she hadn't thought about him since she'd sleepily mistaken Spike for him. Deep inside herself, Buffy knew that her feelings for Riley were never going to be any deeper than they were now. Riley was the kind of guy she could care about but never really love. Was it fair to him to keep dating him now that she knew she was never going to be able to give him what he wanted? What he deserved?

She was going to have to break up with him.

Crap.
 
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