Title: Humanitis
Author: Saber ShadowKitten

(notes in part one)

Spike hummed under his breath to the music blaring on his stereo. Bent over a large piece of paper on the coffee table, he added several more precisely placed dots with his black, felt-tip pen. Three weeks had gone by since he'd gotten ill and, except for the actual sickness part, he was beginning to enjoy being human. Being able to go out at anytime was wonderful, as was some of the food he had found. He especially liked ice creme sandwiches, although the chocolate cookie part tended to get stuck in his teeth.

He had thoroughly adjusted to being awake during the day. Not that he hadn't been up during the day when he was still a vampire. Back then he usually was able to sleep for no more than two to three hours beside Drusilla before he'd be up and pacing around, bored out of his skull. Which was one of the reasons why he was so adept at many things - playing the piano, the guitar, hacking, drawing, speaking and reading several different languages and dancing, although that had usually been done with Dru. His love of music and reading also led him to unconsciously memorize most of what he read or heard.

Most of the pictures he had drawn had been left behind when they had fled Prague. The others burned in the fire at the factory and he hadn't drawn any new ones when Angelus had been living with them. All his daytime hours had been spent building back the strength in his legs so he could walk again.

This past week he'd gone out and bought art supplies, then with his stereo blasting, he'd set about recapturing his Princess on paper. After her came Oz and Willow standing next to each other in the sunlight with the shadows they cast being a werewolf and a female with an aura of power. He'd mailed it to Oz on Thursday as Willow's birthday present.

Yesterday he had drawn a quick, evil one of his sire, which he put on the dart board in the basement. Then he started on Buffy. His first few were only sketches, trying to capture her many expressions and moods. Now he was working on a pen-dot portrait of her from one of the thumbnail pictures.

Setting the pen aside, Spike stood and stretched the kinks out of his back from hunching over the table. Grabbing his coffee cup, he padded barefoot to the kitchen, singing along to the music. "Baby, if I think about you, I think about love. Darling, if I live without you, I live without love. And if I had the sun and moon and they were shining, I would give you both night and day love satisfying. Feel like making love. Yeah I feel like making love. Oh I feel like making love. Feel like making love to you."

After refilling his mug with coffee, he had opened the fridge to grab something to eat when the doorbell rang. Snagging a handful of grapes, he popped one into his mouth as he went to answer the door. It was a good thing he'd been in the kitchen where the bell chime was located or he wouldn't have heard it.

Spike opened the front door and blinked in surprise before a big smile came over his face. Popping another grape in his mouth, he stepped back and gestured for the blond to enter, then closed the door behind her. He went over to the end table and picked up the remote, turning down the volume on the stereo.

"Loud much?" Buffy asked with a grin, dropping the bag she had over her shoulder to the floor behind the couch.

"Music is meant to be played loud," he told her. He held out his hand. "Grape?"

"Ooh, yum," Buffy said, snatching one and eating it. "You know what would go good with grapes? Chocolate syrup."

Spike arched his eyebrow at that. "I think I have some in the fridge," he said, leading her in that direction.

Buffy sat down at the kitchen table as he pulled out the bowl of grapes and chocolate syrup. He gave her a bowl, then watched as she smothered the green seedless grapes in chocolate before eating one. "Mmm," she said, chewing with her eyes closed, a heavenly look on her face. "Delicious."

"Has anyone ever told you that you are a bloody strange girl?" Spike asked, picking up his coffee and taking a sip.

"All the time," she replied with a smirk.

"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Not that I'm not happy to see you," he added quickly. "Just curious."

"Well...," Buffy began. She had planned on telling him about her condition this weekend, having decided to have the baby. But seeing him standing in front of her had removed all her bravery. "I uh... last time I was here... um... I accidently saw the letter from Drusilla," she finished with a quick lie.

Spike paused with the mug halfway to his mouth. The familiar pain of grief came over him, but not as intense as it had been two months ago. Carefully, he set the cup on the counter, taking several silent, deep breaths before responding. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"Well, you were sick and it was private," Buffy answered, scolding herself in her mind for being a chicken. "I was talking to Giles about your human-ness the other day and I told him about it." Which was true. "Then Willow got worried that whoever the man Drusilla was talking about was still after you." Which was also true, except for the part about Willow being the one who was worried.

He frowned, then walked out of the kitchen. Buffy watched him leave with a puzzled look, then stood and followed him. He had seated himself on the couch and was working over something laid on the coffee table. "Spike?"

"Yeah, pet?"

"Did I say something wrong?"

Spike sighed, looking up at her standing at the end of the couch. "I'm sorry, luv. Thinking about Dru... it still hurts."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied and went back to the picture.

Buffy sat on the couch next to him and squeezed his knee in sympathy, deciding to change the subject. "So, what'cha working on?"

"You."

"What?" Buffy asked confused.

He chuckled and held up the unfinished paper. "You," he repeated.

Buffy's eyes widened. What had looked like a bunch of dots close up formed a very familiar face. A face that was giving the viewer an exasperated look. "I look like that?"

"All the time, pet, especially when you're looking at me," Spike replied with a grin. "Like you were annoyed with me or something to that effect."

"When am I not annoyed with you?" Buffy teased as he set the paper back on the table.

"See," he said, gesturing to the page. "Exactly."

She shook her head and leaned back on the couch. "Another hidden talent. You know, with all the things you know how to do, you should have been too occupied to go out and terrorize people."

"And lose out on all the literally bloody fun? Never." Buffy laughed and he added a few more pen dots before asking casually, "Staying for the weekend, ducks?"

"If you want me," Buffy replied.

Spike paused mid-dot as sexual excitement coursed through his body at her words. He swallowed heavily, then continued his action. "I'd love to have you, Slayer," he answered quietly, not-so-hidden meaning behind the sentence.

Buffy felt a tingle run through her as she caught his message. "I thought maybe we could get to know each other better."

"How much better?" Spike asked, looking back at her with a smirk.

"I'm hoping for much much better," she said.

"Slayer, if I didn't know any better, I'd think you were flirting with me."

"Maybe I am," Buffy said coyly, a small smile on her face.

After getting over his astonishment at her words, Spike and Buffy proceeded to have an enjoyable day together. They went to the movies, played cards, tried to make dinner and failed miserably, and generally had an all around good time.

They were currently sitting in front of the television watching Politically Incorrect and throwing popcorn at the screen each time Linda Tripp appeared. At the commercial break, Spike stood and took the now empty bowl to the kitchen to make more popcorn. "So, how's the hedgehog?" he asked when he'd seen she'd followed.

"I don't have..." Buffy trailed off with a glare. "His name is Angel."

"Yeah, yeah," he said with a wave of his hand.

Buffy continued to glare at him as she answered, "Angel is fine."

"I take it all's well in Lover's Lane then?"

"We're not... together like that anymore," Buffy told him. She frowned. "Deja vu."

"Does this mean I have to give the whole bloody ‘you'll never be friends' speech again?" Spike asked.

"Spike, I will always love Angel, just like you will always love Drusilla," she said, popping a chocolate covered grape from the bowl still on the table into her mouth. "But sometimes that's not enough and you have to move on."

Spike turned and looked at her in surprise. "That's what your mum told me."

"I'm saying momisms?" Buffy asked with a look of horror. She sat down heavily at the kitchen table. "I'm not ready for momisms."

"Don't worry, pet. It'll be awhile until you need them."

"Right. Awhile. Not anytime soon because I'm not pregnant," she said, purposely avoiding the perfect opening to tell him. He was the last one who didn't know of her condition. However, only her mom, Willow and Oz knew he was the father and she'd sworn them all to secrecy.

"I think the show's on," he told her, dumping the fresh popcorn in the bowl.

Buffy jumped up and grabbed two fresh sodas from the fridge, then rejoined him on the couch. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't get comfortable again. After ten minutes, she got up. "I'm going to patrol."

Spike looked up at her in shock. "What? Why?"

"Vampires are not exclusive to Sunnydale," she answered.

"I'll go with you," he said, standing.

"No, you stay," she replied quickly.

"But...

"Spike, I am the Slayer, you are human, hence I beat them and you get beaten."

"Fine," Spike said, glaring at her. "But you shouldn't go out there in that condition."

"Jeez, first Angel, then Giles, then mom and Willow, and now you!" Buffy exclaimed. "Just because I'm pre-" She stopped suddenly and looked at him with wide eyes. "You know?"

"That you're underdressed to fight?" Spike asked, confused by her outburst.

Buffy looked down at the shorts and t-shirt she was wearing, then wiggled her bare feet on the carpet. "Oh. Um, yeah. I guess it would be good if I change." She gave him a pained, embarrassed smile, then quickly disappeared up the stairs.

Frowning, he followed her after a minute. "Slayer?" He found her sitting on the small fold-out couch in the sitting room, face in her hands. He walked over and crouched in front of her. "Pet, what's wrong?"

She removed her hands to see Spike looked worriedly at her, his blue eyes filled with questions. "I'm sorry. I'm just..." She yawned, breaking the sentence.

"I have a better idea than patrol, ducks," Spike said, taking her hands in his. "Why don't we call it a night. You can take my bed and I'll stay out here on the sleeper."

"No, I'll stay out here," Buffy said. "I'm the guest."

"And as the guest, I say you take the bed," he replied.

"What if I don't want to? Are you going to make me?"

"Yes," he said. "I will."

Buffy arched her brow in challenge. "And how do you think you're going to do that?"

"Like this," Spike answered, dropping her hands and grabbing her knees.

Buffy squealed out in laughter as he tickled her. She scooted back on the couch away from his hands, but he followed. Kneeling next to her, he grabbed her at the waist, his fingers torturing her hips and ribs.

"No, no, no, stop, stop, stop," she gasped out between laughs, trying to capture his wrists. He evaded her hands, continuously tickling her. Finally, she decided to cheat and rolled off the couch, knocking him backwards onto the floor.

She scrambled to her feet and ran, her footsteps loud and heavy on the stairs. Spike gave chase and they ran around the great room like children.

"Give it up, Slayer," Spike taunted from the opposite side of the downstairs couch.

"It didn't work when you were a bloodsucker and it ain't gonna work now," Buffy shot back, weaving on her feet. He gave her a mocking grin, then faked left before launching himself up the middle, right over the back of the couch.

Surprised, Buffy was tackled to the ground. They both hit with a thud, Spike half on top of her, one arm pinned under her waist. He grinned wickedly at her, his face scant inches away from her own. "Got you."

"I can see that," she breathed, looking into his so blue eyes. "Now what are you going to do with me?"

Spike's grin faded as the chemistry between the two former enemies rose. "I'm going to kiss you," he whispered in reply.

"You are?" Buffy asked in a small, trembling voice.

"Dead cert," he answered, lowering his lips to hers.

The kiss was so gentle, it was as if a breeze brushed over her lips. Her eyes shot open when she felt him pull back and saw a ghostly smile playing on his face as he studied her under his lashes. Whatever he was searching for he must have found because he lowered his head again, capturing her lips.

This kiss was coaxing, asking her mouth to merge with his. Both their breathing sped up as their tongues tentatively met, then slowly began to dance.

Spike's heart was pounding in his chest, the arm he was leaning on was trembling slightly and his brain had shut down completely. All he could focus on was Buffy's soft lips against his, the erotic brush of her tongue. He'd wanted to do this for what seemed like forever.

Eventually they had to break apart. Luminous hazel eyes stared at bright blue ones, their heavy breathing and pounding hearts the only sound in the rom

With a new found awareness, Spike got up and helped Buffy to her feet. He gave her a shy smile, then bent his head and pressed a quick, soft kiss on her lips. Without a word, he put his arm around her waist and led her up the stairs to his bedroom.

Buffy's knees trembled as she stood next to him in the lamp lit room while he turned down the covers. Suddenly, he picked her up in his arms and set her in the bed, smiling mischievously at her, his eyes alight with humor. Brushing a soft kiss across her cheek, he whispered in her ear, "You got the bed."

She started to giggled as he straightened, pulling the covers up over her body. He ran his finger along her jaw line, then tapped it once against her lips. "Goodnight, Slayer."

With a wink, he switched off the lamp and left the bedroom.