Title: Humanitis
Author: Saber ShadowKitten

(notes in part one)

Buffy entered the house and winced at the hard music coming from Spike pounding on the piano. She recognized the song as ‘Halloween' by Ives, a very freaky off-key song that gave her the wiggins when she'd first heard it. Walking over to him, she slid onto the edge of the piano bench next to him, her back to the keys as the chords rung out into the room. His face was a smooth mask, the only way she could tell he was still angry was by the clenching of his jaw and slight pursing of his lips.

He finished the song with a resounding crash, then immediately cut it off. The silence was deafening after that, making Buffy shift uncomfortably next to him. "I'm sorry," she finally said, breaking the oppressive quiet.

"No," Spike said sharply, his hands clenched into fists on his knees. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I'm the one who's sorry, pet. It couldn't have been all that good for you..."

"Actually, I enjoyed it," Buffy interrupted, blushing. "A lot."

He looked at her in surprise. "You've got to be joking."

"Um, no," she replied, studiously avoiding his gaze. "I-I've also been wanting try it again."

Spike blinked in shock, then he closed his eyes to reel in his raging hormones caused by her quiet words. He licked his lips, then pressed them together, hands now gripping his knees.

"Spike?"

The tentative sound of his name made him open his eyes and see her beautiful face marred with a frown. Raising a hand, he ran the pad of his thumb over the frown lines on her forehead, smoothing them. Then he traced down the side of her cheek and over her lips before dropping his hand. "I'm so sorry I got upset, luv."

Buffy shrugged. "No big." She leaned forward suddenly and kissed him briefly on the lips. "All's forgiven."

"Cor, you are so bloody fucking wonderful," Spike said, bringing his hand up to brush her hair away from her face. "I want to make love to you, Slayer. The way I should have done in the first place."

"Then why don't you?" Buffy replied, looking into his eyes.

He inhaled sharply, his heart beginning to hammer in his chest. With a small groan, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and pulled her into a kiss. He felt her try and get closer and he bodily hauled her onto his lap, no small feat for the way they were sitting. The kiss grew from tender to passionate, not stopping until they absolutely had to in order to catch their breaths.

Spike leaned his forehead against hers as he forced himself to calm down. Buffy went to kiss him again, but he stopped her. "No," he said, backing his head away.

Buffy gave him a look of utter confusion. "What?"

"We're not going to do this now," Spike told her, his hands loosening their tight grip on her waist.

"But I thought..." Buffy trailed off, her hormones both from arousal and her pregnancy out of control. She finished her sentence with a meek, "You don't want me?"

Spike ground his pelvis up against her bottom. "Does this feel like I don't bloody want you?"

"Then why..."

"Slayer," he said, putting a finger over her lips to silence her. "When we do this, we're going to do it right, not twenty minutes after I find out I shagged you and didn't even know about it. That just makes it seem like I'm trying to make up for it."

"But I want you," she pouted, nipping at his finger.

"And you'll get me, pet," Spike replied with a small smile. "But not today. Besides, your mum will be here in a few hours and what I want to do to you will take a bloody hell of a lot longer than that."

Buffy blushed rosily. "So, what do we do until then?"

"I didn't say we couldn't make out," he answered slyly, then pulled her in for another kiss.

"Spike?" Buffy said from her perch on top of the piano. She was laying on her stomach, turning the pages when he nodded as he played.

"Yes, pet?" Spike asked, fingers dancing lightly over the keys.

"Do you want to go to the prom with me?"

"Do what?"

"Prom. You. Me. Tuxedo. Dress. Limo. Dancing," she said each word slowly, mockingly.

Spike rolled his eyes, then replied, "Are you sure you want to take me and not pumpkin?"

"Yes, I'm sure I want to take you and not Angel," Buffy answered, turning the page. "I asked you, didn't I? Besides, Angel and I aren't together anymore in the together sense. Did that make sense?"

"It didn't make dollars," he said, giving her a smirk. She groaned and thumped her head on her arm. "I'd love to go with you, ducks."

"Really?" Buffy asked, raising her head to see if he was serious.

"Yes, really," Spike replied, not breaking the song he was playing. He tilted his head and gave her a quizzical look. "Do you know how to dance?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"I take that as a no," he responded.

"Spike, I know how to dance," she said. "I dance at the Bronze all the time."

"That's not dancing, that's flopping around like a corpse hanging in the breeze."

"Um, major eew," Buffy said, giving him a disgusted look.

"When's this prom?"

"May 22," she answered.

"Bloody hell, that's not enough time to instruct you properly," he said to himself, then shrugged. "Oh well."

"Spike, you do realize that you're talking to yourself," she pointed out.

"That comes from hanging around you too long, Slayer," Spike replied.

"Hey!" Buffy said, shutting the songbook on him. The doorbell rang, cutting off any form of retaliation by the former vampire. Instead of moving, he started to play another song from memory as the Slayer slid off the piano to answer the door. "Hi, mom!"

"Hi, sweety," Joyce greeted, entering the house. "Hello, Spike."

"Joyce," Spike greeted. "Come to take away this pain in the arse?"

Buffy scowled at him as Joyce laughed. "Do you want her instead? I could happily leave her here," Joyce joked.

Spike met Buffy's eyes, a different type of smile on his face. "I'd love to have her."

"Guys," Buffy whined, blushing under his gaze. She picked up her overnight bag and thrust it at her mom. "I'll meet you in the car."

Joyce smiled knowingly at her daughter. "Ok, I can tell when I'm not wanted," she said. "I'll talk to you soon, Spike."

"I have no doubt," Spike replied. As soon as Joyce left, Buffy walked over to him and smacked him upside the head. "Hey, what the bloody hell was that for?"

"Because I felt like it," Buffy said, pushing past his arm so she could stand between him and the piano. "Now, are you gonna kiss me or what?"

"Pushy, pushy, Slayer," he said, standing. There was barely enough room for the two of them in the small space and Buffy was forced to lean back against the piano, her backside hitting the keys. They plinked off-key, but neither of them cared as he wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her breathless.

The car horn sounded from outside, making the couple reluctantly break apart. "I'll, uh, call you," Buffy said as they forced themselves to move to the door.

"You do that, luv," Spike replied, placing another quick kiss on her lips. "Be careful."

"I will," she said. "Don't want to go to the prom all black and blue."

"No, we wouldn't want that," he responded, opening the door.

"Well, bye," Buffy said, giving him an awkward smile. She turned and quickly left.

"Bye," Spike said quietly as he watched her head for the car. He waited until they drove off before closing the door, then leaning back against it. "Bloody fucking hell, that girl is going to kill me yet."

Running his hand through his short hair, he wandered into the kitchen and picked up the phone. "She asked me to the prom," he said into the phone without greeting when Oz picked up the other line.

"And?" Oz replied.

"The last prom I saw was in the picture Carrie and, though it would be fun, I don't think it'll be that bloody," he answered.

"Ah," Oz said. "Next weekend we'll get you set up."

"Thanks, mate," Spike told him. He heard Willow in the background ask the werewolf something.

"Buffy didn't tell you anything, did she?" Oz asked for the red head.

"She told me we had sex," he replied. "I can't believe I don't bloody remember."

"Nothing else?"

"No," he said, going over to the fridge to take out a soda. His hand froze on the handle when he saw a new, very naughty message put together under the original. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered where she'd gotten the extra letters and why she knew that song, while the rest of him became rock hard. He cleared his throat. "I have to go."

"Ok. Later," Oz replied.

"Yeah," Spike said, quickly hanging up the phone and heading for the stairs. He was either going to take one very cold shower or have one very intimate conversation with his hand as he saw the words again in his mind.

When I think about you I touch myself.