Title: Humanitis
Author: Saber ShadowKitten

(notes in part one)

Buffy woke when she heard Willow and Oz come up the stairs. "Hey, guys," she greeted groggily. "What time is it?"

"Ten," Willow answered. "We came up to get the beds ready." She frowned, not completely awake yet. "Beds? Sleeping? You know, that thing you do when you're tired?"

"Sleeping, got it," Buffy replied, swinging to her feet, then stopping. "Um, where are we doing this sleeping thing?"

"Will and I will take the kids's room, you can have the couch out here," Oz said. "It folds out. Still."

"Oh, right, you told me that already," Buffy said. "I'm gonna...go...and, uh, get Spike's medicine."

As she went down the stairs, Willow and Oz looked at each other. "What's up with Buffy?"

"I don't know," Willow replied. "Maybe she's been having serious thoughts. Sometimes that happens."

Buffy stared into the refrigerator, her mind a million miles away. She had been dreaming so vividly and it was distressing. It could have been a portent or just a nightmare. She was hoping it was the latter.

The images of the dream played out in her mind. Some man she'd never seen before going after Spike. Her shoving Spike out of the way, taking the knife that was intended for him. The pain and fear that she felt as she had curled into a ball, her arms wrapped around her swollen middle. Her telling Spike that she loved him, then everything going dark.

She was shaken out of her thoughts by the sudden hum of the refrigerator as the motor went on. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed the Penicillin then went back upstairs. "Spike," she said quietly, sitting on the edge of the bed while switching on the lamp. "Time to take your medicine."

Opening the bottle, she poured the pink liquid into the measuring cup, then set it on the night stand, accidentally knocking a book to the floor. Buffy ignored it for the moment and gently rubbed Spike's back, trying to wake him. "Spike, you need to wake up and take this."

"Mmpph," Spike moaned into the pillow, barely opening his eyes. His head felt as though it was detached from his body and everything was functioning really slow. "Buffy?"

"Hey," she said, still rubbing his back. "We need to get this medicine in you, ok?"

He sighed heavily as he turned over, the sheets and his shirt twisting around his body. "This is no fun," he mumbled as he slowly pushed himself into a semi-sitting position.

"I imagine it's not," Buffy told him, sliding the pillow behind him as he pushed himself up. She handed him the medicine. "Bottoms up."

Spike gave her a look which consisted little more than letting his head loll towards her, accepting the cup. He quickly downed the pink stuff, then handed it back to her. "That'll make me feel better soon, right?"

"Right," she grinned at the hopefulness in his voice. "It'll take a few days, though."

"Bloody hell," he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

Buffy's smile grew and she bent to get the book from the floor. "I think I lost your place," she said, picking up the book and the piece of paper that was acting as a bookmark. She turned it over in her hand. ‘To My Spike.' "What's this?"

"What's what, pet?" Spike asked, looking over at her.

Her eyes widened as she read the letter, then she quickly stuck it in the book. "What? Oh, nothing." She put the book back on the night stand, then gave him a fake grin. "So, uh, how are you feeling?"

Spike frowned. "Didn't we already cover that?"

"Oh, er...sorry," Buffy said. "My mind is...not all here."

"So I gathered," he replied. He grabbed the bottom of his shirt and tried to twist it back into place.

"Here," she said, taking the hem of his shirt. He arched up on his elbows, allowing her to straighten it out, then lightly patted his stomach. "There you go. All fixed."

"Thanks," Spike breathed, relaxing back on the pillow.

"Well, I'll let you get back to sleep," she said, straightening the rest of the sheets as she stood.

"No, don't," he stopped her, putting his hand on her arm. "Would you...stay. For just a bit. We can do that talking thing humans are so good at."

Buffy looked at the hopeful expression on his face and smiled genuinely, sitting back down on the bed with one leg tucked under her. "I can do that. In fact, talking is something I excel at, just ask my teachers."

Spike chuckled quietly. There was a knock on the open door and they both looked over to see Willow and Oz standing there. "Can we come in?" Willow asked. He nodded and the two came around to the other side of the bed and took a seat, the werewolf pulling the desk chair up to the side.

"Hey, man," Oz said to him. "You're looking...sick."

"Understatement, mate," Spike replied.

"Before I forget," Willow began. "You have a really cool computer. Wow, think of all the stuff I could do if I had that setup."

"Actually, that's kind of a scary thought," Oz joked. Willow wrinkled her nose at him.

"That's right, " Buffy said, looking at Spike. "I heard you were quite the hacker."

"Yeah, well," he blushed slightly. "I get bored."

"And cracking codes or breaking into top secret government files is always a fun challenge," Willow said. "Well, at least, it is for me."

"That's my juvenile delinquent," Oz said, squeezing her hand. "Although soon you won't be."

"Eighteen," Willow sighed. "I can't wait. I get to vote and-and do other stuff that legal adults can do."

"Luckily you're not me, or I'd tell you to try and avoid your birthday," Buffy said.

"Why's that, ducks?" Spike asked her.

"Buffy doesn't have very happy birthdays," Willow answered for the Slayer. "Things tend to go really bad for her."

"Not that bad," Buffy said. Willow and Oz looked at her. "Ok, so I haven't had the best past three birthdays, but all the ones before that were good."

"What made the last three bad?" Spike inquired.

"Let's see, for my sixteenth birthday I failed the driving test," Buffy said. "Well, I didn't even get to do the driving part."

"And on your seventeenth birthday, your surprise party was ruined by the Judge's arm," Willow continued. She turned to Oz. "That's the night you found out vampires existed."

"Yes, I seem to recall that," Oz said. "I also seem to recall that was the night our friendly neighborhood vampire became not so friendly."

Spike's eyes widened as he pieced together events in his mind from the year before. "You mean the great poofini lost his soul on your birthday?"

Buffy picked at an invisible thread on her knee. "Great gift, huh?" She looked up and glowered at him. "Of course, if someone hadn't been trying to rid the world of humanity, it wouldn't have happened."

Spike had the sense to look ashamed, but Willow came to his defense. "It still probably would have happened, Buffy," she said. "Just not necessarily on your birthday. You two were moving in that direction, remember? Carpe diem?"

Buffy sighed. "I know. And I've blamed myself enough for what happened. But, that's in the past and... it's in the past." She made a face. "Moving on to this year's fiasco."

"The powerless Slayer," Oz summarized.

"Powerless?" Spike asked.

"Buffy lost her super Slayer strength," Willow replied. "Well, not lost really. Just...misplaced."

Spike arched his eyebrow at Buffy, waiting for the story. "The pompous assess that make up the Watcher's Council have a test for Slayers when they turn eighteen. They take away what makes us the Chosen few, lock us in a house with some big, scary monster and say good luck."

He looked at her incredulously. "They sent you off to get killed?"

"Pretty much a big yes to that one," Buffy replied.

"But Buffy is one tough cookie," Willow said. "Like the ones they serve in the cafeteria."

"The bloody bastards," he growled. "I'll rip their hearts out."

"I don't think you're going anywhere, cowboy," Buffy said with a grin. "But thanks for the offer."

"Pillocks," Spike scowled. He closed his eyes as a wave of sickness washed over him, swallowing heavily.

"Want me to take you to the bathroom?" Buffy asked, noting his actions. He was going to say no, then thought better of it and nodded.

"We'll get out of your hair," Willow said, standing as Buffy helped Spike out of bed. "See you in the morning."

"‘Night Will, night Oz," Buffy replied. The couple left the bedroom as she led Spike slowly to the bathroom. The light from the small lamp was still glowing in the large room, and she had him lean against the sink as she laid the towel out on the floor again. "My mom use to do this for me," she said as she helped him onto the floor. "It was weird, but I always felt better laying on the bathroom floor when my stomach hurt."

Spike didn't reply, feeling nauseous. He sat in front of the toilet and rested his forehead on the rim. After a few minutes, the feeling went away and he laid down, the softness of the towel rubbing against his cheek. He closed his eyes and cursed having a human body.

"Spike, do you want me to stay?" Buffy asked quietly, sitting on her heels as she knelt by his head.

"Please," he whispered in reply.

"Ok," she said, changing her position so she was leaning up against the wall to the large bathtub. She listened as his breathing slowed shortly thereafter, evening out as he drifted back to sleep. As she did earlier, she lifted her shirt up, rolling it to expose her stomach, then unbuttoned her jeans. She laid one hand over the non-existent swell of her abdomen, trying to imagine a baby with bright, blue eyes. She smiled to herself as she looked over at Spike's sleeping form. "That's your daddy. He's a royal pain and was your mommy's enemy, but now he's your mommy's friend. Sort of. But maybe one day he'll be more."

Spike turned over in his sleep so he was now facing her and she let her eyes trace over his features. He snuggled against the towel, his hands coming to rest up near his face. She felt the wave of tenderness wash over her again. "Maybe one day he'll be more."