Spike walked with slow, measured steps on his way back to the school. He had found a few of his former minions at Willie's who were willing to go down to Brazil to find out the situation without asking him too many questions. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice his heart beat or the fact he was breathing.

He looked up into the clear sky, shading his eyes with his hand. Being out in the sunshine was probably the only thing good about his predicament. That and the Slayer wasn't trying to kill him, was actually being friendly to him. Too bad she was in love with someone else.

He arrived back at the school as sunset was nearing, having taken a detour through a park to sit and watch some children playing in a pond, chasing fish and frogs. One of the little girls reminded him of Buffy, all full of life. He played the what if game in his mind, as well, before deciding he was turning into brood boy and headed back to the school.

"There you are!" Buffy exclaimed as he walked through the library doors. "It's getting dark outside."

"Worried, pet?" Spike asked, giving her a cocky grin, hiding his feelings.

"No, yes, no," Buffy stammered. "I just didn't want to go out on patrol and find you dead, because you'd probably haunt me."

"Anything you say, Slayer," he said, walking up to Oz who was sitting on the table, strumming his acoustic guitar. "You got a minute, mate?"

Oz looked up at the clock. "Actually, I have three."

Spike frowned in confusion, then lowered his voice. "I have one of those ‘male' questions for you."

"Ah," Oz said, setting the guitar down in the case. He slid off the table and motioned for the ex- vampire to join him in the cage. "What's up?"

"Something odd happened this morning," Spike said. "My heart felt like it was being squeezed at the same time it was expanding. Bloody weird feeling."

"Do you know what triggered it?"

"I looked at a bowl of cereal," he replied.

Oz furrowed his brow slightly. "What was so special about the cereal?"

"Nothing. Buffy had fixed it when I was getting coffee."

"Oh, well that explains it," Oz said. "I feel that every time Willow steps into the room."

"What is it?"

"Utter happiness," he answered. "It happens when you're in complete and total love with a person." He glanced over at the clock. "Sorry man, times up."

Spike frowned. "What?"

"It's about to get a little hairy in here, so you might want to leave," Oz told him as he started taking off his shirt.

"Spike, you need to leave the cage," Willow said, walking into the cage to check the window. She ushered Spike out with her, then closed the door. "See you in the morning, sweety."

Oz gave Willow a small smile, then disappeared behind the shelf. Spike gave the red head a questioning look. "What's going on?"

"My boyfriend's a werewolf," Willow answered simply. Oz-wolf jumped at the cage door in punctuation, making Spike leap backwards. "See?"

Spike's heart was pounding in his chest and he felt short of breath. "Bloody," gasp. "Fucking," gasp. "Hell."

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, looking up from her homework.

"Oz scared him," Willow explained. Oz-wolf growled as if in response to his name.

"I bloody hate this!" Spike yelled, spinning on his heel, heart still pounding and disappearing up into the stacks.

Buffy and Willow watched him storm off, then looked at each other. "Definitely decaf," Willow said.

"Think I should go after him?" Buffy asked.

"I don't know," Willow replied. "He could be doing that guy thing. You know, when they go off like guys do."

"Well, as long as he's here in the library," she said. "I know it sounds silly, but I really don't want him to be running around alone at night. Knowing him, he'd get into trouble within thirty seconds, and he's just a human now. Fighting skill or not, he does rely on his strength. Remember what happened when I no longer had mine?"

"Yeah," Willow said. Oz-wolf growled again, and she looked back at him. "You ok watching Oz? Giles won't be here until around five tomorrow."

"Go," Buffy told her. "I can deal with your boyfriend's inner beast."

"Thanks," she replied, picking up her backpack. "Hopefully we'll get Amy back tonight. I've been researching on shape shifting, and the night before and on the full moon is the best."

"Good luck," Buffy said. Willow left with a wave and the Slayer returned to her books. "Ok, what does J'adore mon chat translate to? Um, I love to talk?"

"I love my cat," Spike's voice drifted down to her. She turned her head to see him sitting on the stairs. "It means ‘I love my cat' not ‘I love to talk'. That's J'adore parler."

"Thanks," she smiled at him. "I didn't know you could speak French."

"Wow," Buffy said. He shrugged like it was no big deal. "I'd hate to have to translate all that."

Spike gave her a lopsided grin. "Want me to translate for you?"

"Please," she nodded, turning fully in her chair to face him.

"I double my wow and raise you a that was beautiful," Buffy told him.

This time, he gave her a sad smile. "I'm gonna go for a walk, pet," he said, pushing to his feet.

"Um, no."

"What?" Spike looked at her like she was crazy.

"I have to stay here and Oz-sit, so I can't walk you home," Buffy explained.

"I don't need a bloody escort service," he scoffed.

"Spike, please don't fight me," she replied. "If you want, when Angel stops by you can go with him."

"Not bloody likely," he spat, storming towards the doors.

Buffy was on her feet in an instant. She grabbed his arm and forcibly stopped him. Oz-wolf jumped on the cage, snarling. "Spike, for some totally whacked out reason, you're human. That means, if you go out there at night, you have a chance of becoming very dead. Or worse," she yelled. "Did you stop to think what would happen if some vampire decided to turn you again?"

"Why the fuck do you care?" Spike yelled back. Oz-wolf started to growled loudly, launching himself at the door. "You never did before! All you ever cared about was Angel, even when he did nothing but fuck up your life and my life and your friends lives!"

"Angel has nothing to do with the fact that you're a human!"

"He's got everything to do with the fact that I'm a bloody human!" Spike continued yelling. "If it wasn't for him losing his fucking soul, then he wouldn't have taken Dru away from me!"

"And that has relevance how?" Buffy asked sarcastically.

"Damn you, Buffy! Angel took Dru, Dru left me, I moved on and she got jealous! She knew that this was one of the two things that could destroy me!" he spat. "I can't be a human! I hated being human! I was pathetic and weak and worthless and I hated it! I CAN'T DO THIS!"

Oz-wolf let out a long howl, surprising both so badly, they jumped several feet apart. Spike's heart was hammering so hard in his chest, it felt like it was going to burst, both from anger and fright. He shoved past Buffy, sprinting back up into the stacks, emotions that he couldn't name choking him up. He kept going deeper into the second floor until he found an tattered, orange chair near a corner and flung himself into it, pressing the heels of his hands into his eyes. Harsh, ugly sobs rose from his chest, making it hard for him to breathe.

Buffy stood frozen in her spot, listening to the sounds of Spike's sobbing mixed in with Oz-wolf's low growls. She hadn't realized how truly hard it was on him, she just assumed that anyone would want to be human again if given the chance. She never thought that he could be anything but the Spike she knew, the tough, brassy, sarcastic male who was able to love despite not having a soul.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy let it out slowly. She went over to the table, picked up some of her books, then went into Giles' office, closing the door behind her to give him some privacy. Sitting down at the librarian's desk, she rested her elbows on it and leaned her head on her fingertips. She debated on calling someone, but the only person who she thought would be able to help him was currently prowling the cage in the other room. Xander was out of the question, he would never listen to Angel, Giles was MIA for the night and she wouldn't call Wesley for a billion dollars. She just had to hope that he would be ok.

Buffy slowly walked back to the library from making a quick patrol around the school. In her hands she held two sodas and some munchies as a peace offering. She hadn't seen hide nor hair of Spike since he'd gone up into the stacks over two hours before. She knew he was still there because when she concentrated, she could sense his presence, much in the same way she sensed where her former Watcher was when she hit him with a dodge ball blindfolded.

When she pushed through the doors, two new things struck her immediately. First, Oz-wolf was lying quietly on the floor of the cage, head resting on his paws. The second was the sounds of guitar music emanating from the stacks. Buffy looked over at the table and saw that Oz's guitar was missing. Then she heard his voice, low and soothing as he began to sing.

"If I could reach the stars, pull one down for you. Shine it on my heart, so you could see the truth. That this love I have inside is everything you need. But for now I find, only in my dreams I could change the world. I would be the sunlight in your universe. You would think my love for you was something good, baby if I could change the world."

Angel had told Buffy that he had found Spike the night before playing the piano in the auditorium. *Now, he's playing the guitar,* she thought as she made her way up the steps. *And he's good, too.*

"If I could be king even for a day, I'd make you as my queen, I'd have it no other way. Then our love would rule in this kingdom we had made. Til then I'll be a fool wishing for the day that I could change the world. You would be my sunlight in this universe. You would think my love for you was something good, baby if I could change the world."

Buffy saw him sitting there, fingers moving gracefully up and down the fret board, playing the instrumental part of the song. He was watching his hand as he played, the guitar balancing on one knee as he perched on the edge of the chair.

"If I could change the world, you would be the sunlight in my universe. You would think my love for you was something good, baby if I could change the world. Baby, if I could change the world. Baby, if I could," his voice softened with the last phrase as the song came to a close. "Change the world."

She waited silently as the last strum faded, then made some noise as she joined him. "Hi," Buffy greeted quietly. She held up the snacks. "I come in peace?"

One side of Spike's mouth went up as he accepted the soda and bag of chips from her. "Thanks," he replied.

Buffy nodded and sat down on the floor in front of him. "You're quite the multi-talented bleached blond. Play the guitar, play the piano, quote French poetry," she listed. "Any more hidden talents I should be amazed about?"

"I know how to set the clock on a VCR," he answered, opening the chips and eating one.

"I'm impressed. Not many men know how to even turn it on," Buffy said. "By the way, you sing really good."

"Want to start a band?" Spike asked. "You can play the triangle."

"Drums," she corrected with a grin. "And you can sing."

"That I can do, pet," he replied. "That's about all I can bloody do."

"Don't go Dawson on me, Spike," Buffy said. "Why don't you play something else. It calmed Oz down to the point that he's actually quiet."

"What do you want to hear? I can do a mean Slash impersonation," he said, this time giving her a small grin.

"Who were you just playing?"

"Clapton," he replied.

"Play something else by him," she instructed.

"Ok, luv," Spike said. "I think you'd know this one." He slowly began to strum. "Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would it be the same if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong and carry on ‘cause I know I just don't belong here in heaven."

He looked down at her sitting on the floor Indian style, every bit the woman he'd fallen for, and the meaning of the song changed for him. "Would you hold my hand if I saw you in heaven? Would you help me stand if I saw you in heaven? I'll find my way through night and day ‘cause I know I just can't stay here in heaven."

She was his heaven. And it hurt to be this close to her and not have her realize that. "Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees. Time can break the heart, have you beggin' please, beggin' please."

Buffy closed her eyes as the instrumental part washed over her, flooding her emotions. He sang as though each word were coming from his soul. The soul he supposedly didn't have. "Beyond the door there's peace, I'm sure. And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven."

Spike smiled slightly when he saw her close her eyes. He was glad he could make her happy like he obviously was doing because he knew he would never belong in her life, just like in the song. "Would you know my name if I saw you in heaven? Would you be the same if I saw you in heaven? I must be strong and carry on ‘cause I know I don't belong here in heaven."

Tears were running down Buffy's cheeks when he finished. She wiped at them with her hand, chuckling slightly. "That was...yeah."

"Buffy?"

Spike and Buffy both turned towards the voice that was calling from the main part of the library. "Coming!" Buffy called back. She stood and looked down at him. "I..." She didn't know what to say, so she leaned down and kissed his cheek before walking away.

Spike felt that heart swelling thing again and he took a deep breath and sighed. Leaning over the guitar, he began to finger the strings randomly, making up his own soft, sad song to go with his mood. At the rate he was going, he'd have Angel beat by a mile for the biggest brooder in Sunnydale.

He saw Buffy return out of the corner of his eye and looked up. "Feel like going home? Angel's here and he said he'd watch Oz," she asked.

Standing, he handed her the guitar and picked up his chips and soda. "Lead the way, luv."

*****

"Spike?" Buffy started tentatively as they walked back to her house. "I'm sorry this is so hard on you."

"Don't worry about it, pet," Spike said. "It's not your problem."

"But I feel like it's my fault," she said. "And on top of all the human stuff, you had to come to your mortal enemy for help."

"I did once before," he shrugged.

"I still feel bad."

"Slayer, it can in no conceivable way be your fault," Spike told her. "No one can control who they fall in love with, it doesn't work that way. And if it's Drusilla that did this to me, I'm to blame for loving her at one time."

"So, what can I do to help you then?" Buffy asked. "And I still can't believe that I'm offering to you, of all people, my help."

Spike chuckled. "You've done enough, luv," he replied. "I'll be heading back to LA tomorrow until I hear some news. Then if it isn't Drusilla, well...I don't know. Maybe I'll join the mob or something."

They reached the back door with a smattering of laughter and Buffy followed Spike inside. "Hi mom," Buffy said to Joyce who was seated at the counter.

"Hello, you two," Joyce greeted in return. "Are you home for the night, Buffy?"

"No, I have to get back to the library," she answered, then turned to Spike. "Go ahead and take my bed. I'll be back around two because Angel promised he'd wolf-sit until Giles got there at five, which will leave him a half an hour to get back to the mansion."

"If you're sure," Spike said. "I don't mind the floor."

"Waste not, want some," Buffy replied, then frowned. "Or is it wait not, want more? Or maybe it's want not, waste some."

"Buffy?"

"Yeah?"

"I'll take the bed," he told her with a smile.

"Ok, good," she said. "I guess I'll see you later then. Night, mom."

"Goodnight, Buffy. Be careful," Joyce replied as her daughter went out the door. She looked over at Spike, taking in his somewhat haggard appearance and bloodshot eyes. "I saved some dinner for you," she said, standing and walking to the refrigerator.

"You didn't have to do that," Spike told her, wearily sitting down on a stool. He leaned his head in one hand, resting his elbow on the counter.

"I made it anyway," Joyce said, sticking the plate in the microwave. "Of course, no one came home for dinner, but at least Buffy called this time." The timer went off and she took the food out, setting it before him. "Here you go."

"Thanks," he replied, picking up a fork and pushing the food around the plate. "I'll be out of your hair tomorrow."

"Are you going home?"

"Yeah," Spike answered. "There's nothing that can really be done here in Sunnyhell. Plus the Slayer undoubtably wants me out of her life."

"That's not true," Joyce said. "She was worried about you earlier when you weren't in the library after school."

"Yeah right," he mumbled, taking a bite of the food. He then pressed the palm of his hand against one eye. "Bloody hell. Can I have one of those aspirins?"

"Of course you may," she replied. As she was about to open the bottle, she paused. "You know, I just thought of something. Do you even have any food at your house? Or things like aspirin, or bandaids?"

"No, why would I?"

"True," she said, opening the bottle and getting out a spoon and the jelly. "I can give you some food to go and all you'll have to do is microwave it. You do have a microwave, don't you?"

"It came with the house," Spike answered, taking the proffered spoon and swallowing the aspirin/jelly mix. "I think there might be food still lying around. I never bothered to clean it out, seeing as I don't use the kitchen."

"Here," Joyce said, putting a pad of paper and pencil next to him. "Write down your phone number and address, and I'll give you our number here and mine at work. That way, you can call if you have any questions, and I can send you care packages."

Spike looked at her dumbfounded. "Why are you being so nice to me? I tried to kill your daughter on numerous occasions and her friends."

"Call it maternal instinct," Joyce replied.

"But you're not my mum. In fact, I'm older than you by centuries," he said.

"How old were you when you...became a vampire. Is that the right way to say it?" she asked.

"It'll do," he shrugged. "And I have no idea how old I was. I do remember seeing the turn of the century, so I'm at least over two hundred."

"Well, you look to be in your young twenties, maybe even eighteen or nineteen," Joyce said. "By default, that makes me feel older. Besides, Buffy no longer lets me mother her enough, so I have spare."

"And you'd waste it on me?"

"I don't think of it as a waste," she corrected. "Everyone needs a mother now and then."

Spike studied her a moment. "Where were you when I was a lad?" He picked up the pencil and began writing, then tapped the pill bottle which was sitting on the table with it. "Can you show me how to open this?"

"Of course," Joyce replied. "It's a child proof cap, which means children can open it, but the adults can't." She gave him a smile, then showed him the writing on the cap. "You push down and turn at the same time...."

*****

"Spike's going home tomorrow," Buffy told Angel while they were sat together at the table in the library.

"You sound disappointed," Angel said.

"No, just a little worried," she replied. "You missed the fireworks earlier. He really hates being human again."

"So, even though he's leaving, I take it he's not giving up on finding out what happened," Angel asked.

"He thinks it was Drusilla," she said. "I guess he sent someone down to wherever the loony is to find out for sure. Until then, he'll just have to not let it destroy him."

"I don't understand."

"He said that becoming human again was one of the two things that could destroy him,"Buffy replied. "And before you ask, I have no clue what the other thing is. All I know is that he absolutely, completely, entirely, undoubtably hates being human."

Angel chuckled. "I guess it would be awkward."

"Do you remember what a yawn feels like? Or a headache?" Buffy asked. "Think about it. Human bodies do and feel things, emotions cause physical responses, we have to train it and learn what certain things mean. And that's normally done by the time you're three. Which means that Spike is basically a very tall toddler."

"Since when did you become such a font of knowledge," Angel teased.

"Ha ha," she replied. "I was reading some child care books earlier to try to find out how...er, never mind."

"What?"

"It's kinda personal," Buffy said. At the arch of his eyebrow, she hastily added, "Not for me personal, for Spike. I'm not having any children. I'm child free. Let's change the subject."

*****

Buffy crept quietly into her bedroom after changing into her pajamas a little after two that morning and looked down at the sleeping man in her bed, this time curled up on his other side. She wondered when he went to the store because all he was wearing was a pair of sweat shorts and was looking decidedly yummy in them. Her lips slowly went up in a devilish smile and she lay down next to him, propping her head on her fist. She reached out with her other hand and began rubbing his shoulder. "Spike," she called quietly. He stirred a little, but did not respond. "Spike."

Spike's eyes barely opened and he saw Buffy next to him on the bed. "Back already, pet," he mumbled sleepily, his dream world running over to the real world again. He reached out his own hand instinctively and slid it under her nightshirt, then began to lightly rub her abdomen. "What did the doctor say?"

*Mmm, that feels good,* she thought as his warm fingers brushed over her skin. "About what?" she asked, debating on whether to stop him or not.

"What do you think, luv?" Spike said. Before Buffy knew it, he had slid his hand down the front of her shorts and was stroking her most sensitive area. She let out a small gasp and found herself arching into his hand. "It's not going to hurt the baby, is it?"

"Ba-," she gasped as his finger penetrated her. "-by?" She knew she had to stop him, was being exceedingly unfaithful to a man that she couldn't touch or couldn't touch her. She moaned, from pleasure, that thought and her predicament. All she wanted to do was see what else was in Spike's dreams, not feel them.

"I want you so badly," he whispered in a dream-filled voice. He opened his eyes a little and saw Buffy biting her lip, her eyes tightly closed. He pushed her down flat with his arm and scooted closer to her, nuzzling her neck. His fingers did not stop their lazy assault on her core.

Buffy felt his erection press up against her hip and she let out a little squeak. Between his lips on her neck, his shaft pressed against her and his fingers playing with her she knew she was in deep, deep trouble. Then she started to feel the tightening of her muscles between her legs and knew she was about to orgasm. "Oh god, Spike," she breathed as she went over the edge, her hips arching and writhing against his hand. Her muscles in her entire body melted with the orgasm and she could do nothing but lay limp as a noodle, her breathing heavy and her heart racing.

She felt his hand leave her and she actually made a slight whimper at the loss of contact, until she felt him pushing her to her side so her back was up against his chest. Her eyes widened when her shorts were slowly being pushed down and she tried to tell her body to move, but it wouldn't listen.

"Is it ok, luv?" he said in a low, sleep filled voice by her ear. She felt his much more of his erection as it was pressed against her backside, skin touching skin. His hand slid down her hip to her folds again, parting them while shifting his hips.

When she felt the tip of his shaft at her opening, her body jerked back in excitement, effectively impaling herself on him. Buffy moaned low in her throat at the same time he did and his fingers played with her clit once more as he began to move in and out of her at a very slow pace. Her eyes were squeezed shut, her breaths coming in short pants as he filled her near virginal passage with each thrust of his hips. It felt so unbelievably good, but was so inconceivably wrong.

"Oh, Buffy," Spike breathed in her ear, his own dream world firmly enmeshed with the real one. He pushed his chest closer to her silk covered back, his mouth moving over the side of her neck behind her ear with little kisses and licks. "I adore you."

She was gone. Completely gone. His unconscious words sent shivers down her spine and she flew over the precipice again, her muscles jerking and clamping around him. She heard him let out a soft swear, then thrust up against her backside, fully sheathing himself in her as he came. He moved his hand so his arm was wrapped around her and he held her close.

Buffy felt like she was floating, like her limbs had decided to detach from her body and drift away. Her mind was running a million miles per hour, but not settling on one thing long enough for her to comprehend what she was thinking. All she could do was lay there entwined intimately with Spike.

"I love you, sweetheart," he murmured, slipping back into sleep.

Buffy's eyes were wide as his breathing became even, what just occurred finally sinking into her brain. "Oh god," she said quietly, extracting herself from him and getting out of the bed. She pulled her shorts up and made her way to the bathroom to clean up.

Turning on the light, her reflection caught her eye. Her face was flushed and her chest was rising and falling with each semi-quick breath. She put her hands to her cheeks and groaned. "I cannot believe that just happened." She looked at herself in the eyes. "I cannot believe that just happened and I enjoyed it. A lot."

She shook her head and sighed. She quickly went to the bathroom, then cleaned herself up from the aftermath of the lovemaking. And she knew on Spike's side it was definitely making love. Her head suddenly shot up and she looked at herself in the mirror as some of his sleep induced words penetrated her mind. "Baby?"

Buffy returned to the bedroom, took one look at Spike and freaked. She rushed over to the closet, blindly grabbing a shoe and shoving her foot into it. As she reached for another, she noted that the elastic of the shorts had at least ridden back up over him, then she made a strangled noise about the fact that she was looking in that area and yanked a coat off a hanger. She was halfway out the window when she remembered why she had gone to wake Spike up in the first place.

Avoiding looking at that one particular area, she grabbed his shoulder and began shaking him. "Spike, wake up," she said somewhat loudly.

"Stop your bloody shaking," Spike responding, coming awake. "I'm up." He turned his head and looked up at her. "What?"

"Bathroom. Go. You," she managed to get out before his oh-so-blue eyes affected her. She turned and practically threw herself out the window.

Spike frowned confusion at Buffy's actions as he sat up, his sleep filled brain still not functioning completely. He had been in the middle of one of his favorite dream-lines, where Buffy was pregnant with his child even though that was an impossibility. And as usual, it had become erotic. His frown deepened as he looked down at his lap and realized something was up, or more specifically not up. He patted the bed around him, searching but not finding the wet spot and wondered what was going on. He always woke up with a hard on or cum stained sheets when he dreamt like that.

*Maybe it's one of those human guy things,* he thought as got up and headed for the bathroom. When he returned, he looked at the open window, puzzled. Then he shrugged, settled himself on the floor and went back to sleep.

*****

Angel's head shot up from the book he was reading when Buffy burst through the library doors. "Buffy?" he said, rising to his feet at her appearance. She had two different shoes on and her long, pink coat was buttoned lopsided, her legs bare as if she dressed in a hurry. "What's wrong?"

Buffy launched herself at him, wrapping her legs around his waist and grabbing the back of his head. She attacked his mouth with her own, forcing her tongue between his lips to taste him. She felt him stiffen under her and not just his cock, but still she continued.

Angel pried her arms from around his neck and managed to stop the kiss, boldly putting her back on her own two feet. He took several steps back from her, panting from the arousing assault. "Buffy, you know we can't do that," he said, forcing his hormones under control.

She stared at him wide eyed at the feelings, or rather lack of them, running through her body. She had felt nothing but a faint ‘this is nice' reaction to the powerful kiss. "Oh god," she gasped, covering her mouth with her hand, the realization that Spike's fingertips dancing along her abdomen in a non-sexual way had evoked more feelings than the kiss. "I...I..."

Angel watched as she turned and bolted out the door, confusion written plainly on his face. He looked over at Oz-wolf who was staring up at him curiously. "What the hell was that about?"

*****

"Willow," Buffy called through the closed French doors of her best friend's bedroom as she rapped on the glass. "Willow."

A very sleepy Willow opened the door to see a panicked looking Buffy standing there. "Buffy, what's wrong?" she asked, stepping back to allow her friend to enter.

"I had sex with Spike and I liked it and then I went and kissed Angel and didn't feel anything," Buffy told her quickly, tears in her eyes.

"What?!" Willow asked, eyes widening. "You had sex with Spike?"

Buffy nodded, sinking down at the end of the bed. "I didn't mean to, it's not like I initiated it or anything. But, Willow, it felt so good and then I kissed Angel and didn't feel anything!"

"Buffy, take a deep breath and start from the beginning," the red head instructed, sitting next to her on the bed.

"Ok," Buffy replied, doing as told. "Remember how I told you yesterday Spike talked in his sleep?"

"Bubble bath and loving you," Willow said.

"Right. Well, when I got home, I thought I'd see what else he was dreaming about," she said. "I got on the bed next to him and did the same thing as I did last night and he started talking to me again."

"What did he say?"

"He asked me if the doctor said it was ok, then started rubbing my belly," Buffy answered. "Then he put his hand down my shorts and started...you know."

Willow's eyes widened again. "He did?"

Buffy nodded. "Then he asked if it was safe because of the baby and then he told me he wanted me and I came."

"Baby?" Willow asked. "As in, your baby?"

"I don't know," she replied.

"What happened next?"

"He turned me on my side and well..."

"Oh!" Willow gasped.

"And while he was... he told me he adored me, and we both came and then he said he loved me and fell back to sleep," Buffy finished. "Oh god, Willow. What am I going to do? It felt so wonderful, like I was dancing on a cloud. He was so tender and gentle, it's obvious he's totally in love with me."

"And then you went and kissed Angel?" Willow asked.

"And there was nothing," Buffy said morosely. "I love Angel so much and I felt nothing!"

"Oh boy," the red head replied.

"You can say that again," Buffy said, falling backwards on Willow's bed.

"Oh boy."

Buffy giggled, making Willow do the same. "What am I going to do, Will?"

"You told me on the phone earlier that Spike's going home later today, right?"

"Right."

"Then you do nothing," Willow told her. "You could be mistaking good sex for feelings. Once he's gone, wait a few days, then try kissing Angel again."

Buffy looked over at Willow. "When did you get to be so smart?"

"The same day your lover kidnaped me and Xander," she replied.

Buffy groaned. "Don't call him my lover, please?"

Willow gave her a devilish smile. "So, tell me the details? Is he big?"

"Willow!"

Spike kicked the door closed behind him, then wandered into the kitchen with the two paper bags he held in his arms. Setting them down on the table, he shed his duster then looked curiously around the room. "Well, mate, looks like you get to learn your way around a kitchen," he said to himself as he started to open cabinets.

He hadn't realized humans kept the amount of food he found in the cabinets and fridge. He went back over to the bags on the table and pulled out the two notes he'd found that morning in the Summers' kitchen, along with the grocery bags of tupperware containers.

The first note was a brief one from Joyce, telling him to call if he had any questions whatsoever. The second note was longer and he smoothed it out on the table along with the small box that had been with it.

Spike opened the box for the second time that day and took out the small, plain, gold cross necklace. He unhooked the clasp and put it on, tucking it under his shirt. He was still amazed when it didn't burn him and even more so that the Slayer was concerned for his safety.

Standing, he picked the note up and put it and the phone numbers on the refrigerator using the magnets the family who had owned the house had used. Taking a step back, he surveyed the letter magnets that had been put together one drunken night months ago and hadn't been changed. He reached out and straightened the ‘f' and the ‘v' in the words ‘I love Buffy,' then returned to unpacking the food that Joyce had sent with him from the bags.

*****

"I wonder how Spike is," Buffy said as she did pushups on the front lawn of the school. She was still undergoing Wesley's physical fitness testing with Faith and finally admitted to herself that she did want to do better than the other Slayer.

"Did you know that you've asked that question everyday for the past two weeks?" Willow said, flipping through her history textbook. "That would suggest that you're having serious thoughts about a certain blond vampire-no-more."

"Am not," Buffy replied.

"And what was your dream about last night?" Willow asked with a pointed look.

Buffy looked up at the red head. "Well maybe I've been thinking about him. But just a little. I'm just worried about how he's doing."

"And if he's still dreaming about you," she added. Buffy scowled at her. "Why don't you call him?"

"No!" Buffy said forcefully, rolling onto her back to do some sit-ups. Willow arched her brow. "We're mortal enemies, I can't just call and ask what's what?"

"I think you passed that mortal enemy stage when you had sex with him, Buffy," Willow pointed out. "Especially ‘cuz you liked it."

"Will-"

"And it gave you that ooey gooey tingly feeling in your toes," she went on without pause. "That slowly goes up your legs and makes you all goofy, like Angel use to make you feel."

"Thank you for pointing that out, Will," Buffy said sarcastically, sitting up. "I so wanted to be reminded that my smoochies with Angel are less..."

"Ooey gooey?" Willow supplied helpfully.

"What ever happened to the time when the boys we thought about were basketball or football players, not creatures of the night or former ones?"

"Or werewolves," Willow added with a grin.

"Or werewolves," Buffy repeated. She picked at the grass and sighed.

"Cheer up, Buffy. Maybe he'll call."

"And the reason would be...?"

"Um, he loves you so much he can't live another day without you?" Willow said. Buffy gave her a look. "Or maybe he wants to know how to make borscht."

"Borscht?"

Willow shrugged. "It could happen."

*****

Spike stared at the microwave as the object inside started to spark. He yanked open the door and grabbed the Spaghettio's can, burning his fingers. "Ow!" he shouted as he dropped the hot metal, orange sauce and round noodles splattering everywhere.

He swung around to grab the paper towels and ended up smashing his elbow on the corner of the refrigerator handle. Unbelievable pain shot up and down his arm, bringing tears to his eyes. "Bloody fucking hell," he ground out between clenched teeth, holding his elbow.

The past two weeks had not gone well for Spike. He hurt himself more times than he could count, from stubbing his toe to paper cuts to static electric shocks, each sending pain which he had never felt before running through him. He'd taken more aspirin than recommended on the bottle and was lucky he didn't overdose. He also had to change the bed nine out of fourteen days, much to his anger. He really hated being human.

The pain started to recede and he took a deep, calming breath. Stepping over the mess, he picked up the phone and dialed the number he was exceedingly familiar with.

"Summers Gallery."

"Hello, Joyce," Spike said into the phone, rubbing his elbow. "How goes the world of art?"

"Hello, Spike," Joyce replied over the line, a smile in her voice as she said the second half to how they started all their conversations. "A little surreal with a bunch of still life thrown in." Spike had called her at work practically every day for a variety of reasons, usually to do with food. He had made her promise not to tell Buffy that he called, telling her that he felt like enough of an idiot without needing her daughter to know that fact. "What's on the menu for today?"

Spike looked down at the can on the floor. "It was Spaghettio's," he replied.

"Did you remember to take it out of the can?"

"Hell," he swore softly, slumping back against the wall. "I forgot again. Maybe I should hire a bloody cook."

"Not to worry, I whipped up a large dinner last night and I planned on sending you a care package," Joyce told him. "Complete with microwaving instructions."

"What would I ever do without you?" Spike said.

"Probably starve," she replied.

He chuckled and was about to say something else when he heard knocking on the front door. "Excuse me a moment, Joyce, there's someone at the door." He put down the phone on the kitchen table, glancing at the clock to see that it was well past sunset. Putting on his ‘I'm still a big bad vampire' face, he opened the door. He recognized the minions that had gone to Brazil for him. "Hello, mates."

"Spike," one of the vampires said. "We, uh...have that information for you."

"Well, spit it out," Spike said, leaning against the open door, careful not to step past the invisible barrier. The vampires shifted nervously on their feet, looking at one another. Finally, one of them spoke.

"Drusilla is dead," the vampire told him quickly, holding a sealed envelope out towards the blond. "We found this at her lair. It's addressed to you."

Spike reached his hand out and took the letter from the vampire, his expression unchanging. "Are you sure?"

"Yes," he answered.

Spike nodded and stepped back, clutching the envelope in his hand, his eyes tracing the dark letters on it. "Thanks," he said quietly before closing the door on them.

Suddenly, his heart felt like someone reached into his chest and was crushing it. His throat tightened and a large lump formed in it. He slowly walked back into the kitchen and picked up the phone. "I'm back," he said, swallowing heavily.

"Who was it?" Joyce asked.

"Dru-," he got out before his throat closed up. His entire chest now felt as though someone were sitting on it as his eyes began to fill with water.

"Spike?"

Spike sucked air in through his mouth, making a high pitched squeak as his lower lip began to tremble uncontrollable. The muscles in his stomach started to quiver and he squeezed his eyes shut, his head lowering. He held the phone tightly in one hand, the letter in the other as the tears started to flow.

"Spike, dear, what's wrong?" Joyce asked concerned as she heard what sounded like him crying. "Did something happen to Drusilla?"

With the sound of her name, the dam broke. Spike started to cry deep, wracking sobs preventing him from breathing. His Princess, his Black Queen, his Ripe Wicked Plum was gone. His entire body was tense and trembling as grief overtook him.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Joyce said.

"No," Spike got out, sucking in sharp breaths of air. "Don't."

"But-"

"No," he repeated a little more firmly. He looked up at the ceiling as he calmed.

"If you're sure," Joyce said.

"I-I'll call you later," he said, then hung up the phone. On automation, he walked to the bedroom and sat on the edge of the bed. After a few moments, he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, then shakily opened the envelope.

To My Spike~
The bad man made me see inside you and tell him what was the very worst thing he could do to you. I was able to tell him a fib. I told him that you could never survive as a mortal again. I hope you are not unhappy with me. I know he will make you human and you will hate it, but he will not kill the Slayer you love. Now I have to go so I can hide this before he comes back. The stars tell me that I did good. I love you, my Spike. Take care of her like you took care of me. If you see Daddy, tell him I was a good girl. And tell Miss Edith I will miss her.
Am I still your Princess?

"Yeah, baby, you are," Spike whispered as he finished the letter. He curled up on the bed, clutching the paper to his chest as the tears began to fall again.

Spike didn't move until he absolutely had to, only to quickly use the restroom then return to the bed to stare up at the ceiling. His tears had stopped hours ago to be replaced by a numbness that encompassed his entire body. The phone had rang several times, but he let the machine pick it up. Each time, it was Joyce's worried voice that came over the speaker from its place on the desk.

He did not know how long he stayed like that, but eventually the tears came again. Afterwards, he managed to get up and splash cold water on his face before he picked up the phone. Looking at the digital clock display, he dialed the Summers' home number.

"Hello?" Joyce said at the other end of the line.

"It's me," Spike said in a dull tone. "Drusilla is dead."

"Oh no," Joyce replied softly. "I'm so sorry."

"Tell the Slayer it wasn't Dru," he told Joyce. "Tell her...tell her it was someone else."

"Ok," she answered. "Do you want me to come down there?"

"No," Spike said. "I'm going to go out for awhile."

"Be careful."

"I will," he replied, then hung up the phone. Standing, he slid on his duster, picked up the letter and silently made his way out of his house.

He walked for hours, avoiding potentially dangerous areas before entering the bar he frequented. He took a seat at the counter and was poured a drink without having to ask. He slammed it back, the alcohol burning a fiery trail as he pulled the letter out of his pocket. He rubbed his fingers over the letters and felt the tears again. Squeezing his eyes shut, he forced them back, then proceeded to drink himself into oblivion.

*****

The past few weeks had passed by in a blur for Spike. He's gotten sympathy cards from Willow, Oz, Buffy and Joyce and spoke with both Oz and Joyce numerous times, but mostly he sat and stared at nothing or cried. That morning, however, he had woken up freezing and nothing he did seemed to warm him up. His entire body shook and he had trouble focusing on anything.

He finally had to get up to use the bathroom and regretted it instantly. His knees collapsed from under him, sending him falling to the floor. Then, his stomach flip flopped and he threw up for the first time in centuries, making a mess of himself and the floor. He managed to crawl to the bathroom before he did it again, barely getting his head above the toilet. He was very glad at that moment that he never put the seat down.

Somehow, Spike had been able to stand long enough to brush his teeth and relieve himself. He had gotten back into bed wishing he would die. He wasn't able to stop trembling and the tears came and went for no reason. Each breath he took was shaky, his mouth was bone dry and he couldn't breathe through his nose. With a trembling hand, he grabbed the portable phone from the night stand and dialed.

"House of Buffy, how do you want your potatoes?"

"Slayer," Spike said in a weak voice.

"Spike?" Buffy replied on the other end of the line.

"Something's." He paused to take a shaky breath. "Wrong with me."

"What is it? What's wrong?" Buffy asked, her voice instantly concerned.

"Don't know," he replied. "Hurts."

"What hurts?"

He took another deep breath and felt his stomach turn over. "Help," he said in a teary voice. "Please?" Tears started to fall down his cheeks as he swallowed what little saliva he had in his mouth.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Buffy said, hanging up the phone. Spike hit the disconnect button on the portable and let it fall onto the bed next to him as he curled up into a fetal position, wrapping his arms around his waist.

*****

"Spike?" Buffy called as she, Willow and Oz entered the house after finding it unlocked. The Slayerettes had been at her house when she received Spike's call, and Oz offered to drive her down immediately. They made record time getting to LA and, using the address she'd dug out of her mom's address book, they found the house in a semi-nice area of the city.

"Nice house," Willow commented as they entered the great room. She could see a kitchen just beyond the large room, a set of stairs dividing the two with a powder room underneath them.

"Stay here," Buffy instructed, moving to the stairs. She quickly, but quietly, made her way up them and found herself in a sitting room with three doors jutting off of it, one leading to a bathroom, the second leading to a child's bedroom and the final one leading to the master suite. "Spike?"

Spike heard his name being called and he tried to focus. His body was covered with sweat, but he couldn't seem to get warm. In fact, he couldn't even move anymore. His breathing was shaky and exclusively through his mouth.

Buffy saw him curled up under the covers in the semi-dark and she cautiously crept over to the bed, wary of any attack just in case. "I'm going to turn on the light," she said, reaching over to the lamp on the night stand. She waited for an answer, and upon not receiving one, turned it on. When she saw Spike's paler than normal face, she let out a small gasp, then gently reached forward to brush his sweat soaked hair back off his forehead. "Spike, I'm here."

His forehead was burning to the touch and his skin felt slightly clammy. She crouched next to the bed so she was eye level with him, her fingers gently stroking his hair. She could see a glazed look in his eyes as they barely opened to peer at her. "Hi," she said softly. "I think someone is sick."

"Make it stop," Spike said with a shaky voice. The tears started to well in his eyes again, blurring the petite blond Slayer even more.

"Hey now, don't cry," Buffy said to him. "I'm going to find a thermometer so we can take your temperature, ok? I'll be right back." She stood and picked up the phone from the bed, turning it on and dialing as she walked. She barely avoided stepping in the mess on the carpet as she headed for the bathroom.

"Summers Gallery."

"Mom, he's not hurt, he's sick," Buffy said into the phone as she began searching the medicine cabinet.

"How bad?" Joyce asked over the line, concerned.

"So far I've seen evidence of major yakking, he's burning up and he's all sweaty," she replied. Finding her prize, she made her way back to the bed. "Hold on, mom." Buffy put the phone down and opened the electronic thermometer. "Spike, you need to put this under your tongue, ok?"

Spike barely had the energy to do as asked, so Buffy held the instrument as she picked the phone back up. "Do you still have Dr. Clark's number?"

"Do you think you'll need it?"

"Don't know," she replied, waiting for the beep. "But I better get it just in case. He's open on Saturdays if I'm remembering right."

"Yes, he is," Joyce answered. "Got some paper?"

"Yeah, hold on," Buffy said, holding the phone with her shoulder to grab the paper sitting on the night stand and the pencil that was holding her hair up. "Go ahead."

"798-4339," Joyce recited as Buffy wrote awkwardly on the paper. The thermometer beeped at her and she removed it from his mouth, holding it up so she could read the numbers.

"Oh boy," she said. "He's definitely a sicko. His temp is 103.7."

"Call the doctor," Joyce instructed. "I'll come down as soon as I can find someone to hold down the fort here at the gallery."

"No, you don't need to. I have Oz and Willow's help. I'll call if I have questions."

"Are you sure? It's no problem..."

"Mom, you're having that special showing this weekend. No, you stay, I can deal," Buffy told her.

"Ok. Call me and let me know how he's doing," Joyce replied.

"Will do," she said. "Bye."

Buffy disconnected, then immediately dialed the doctor's office. After receiving instructions on what to do and scheduling an emergency appointment, she hung up and looked at the former vampire. Setting the phone, paper and pen down, she reached out and gently touched his cheek. "Spike, we need to get you into a bath, ok? Then we're going to the doctor's. You're going to be better soon, I promise."

Spike licked his dry lips. "Ok," he replied in a whisper. He felt the telltale sign that he was going to heave and he started to pant. "Up, up."

Buffy immediately stood, knowing what was about to happen and helped him from the bed, practically carrying him to the bathroom. She held his forehead as he threw up in the toilet, rubbing his sweat soaked T-shirt covered back with her other hand. "Any more?" she asked quietly as he lay his cheek against the cold rim.

"I don't think so," Spike mumbled.

She stood and got a cup of water for him, then took the towel from off the shower rod and spread it out on the floor behind him. After taking the empty cup from his limp hand, she wiped his mouth with some toilet paper, then helped him to lay down on the floor. "You just stay here, ok?"

He nodded slightly, curling up again as she lay a second towel over him. Buffy wiped off the toilet, then flushed before heading out of the bathroom and back downstairs. "Guys, Spike's just a tad bit on the sick side," she told Willow and Oz, who were sitting on the couch.

"Anything we can do?" Willow asked.

"Plenty," Buffy told her. "We need to get him into a cool bath, change his sheets, clean up the floor in the bedroom and take him to the doctor's office in an hour."

"I'll get the floor," Oz said, rising.

"I'll change the sheets, Buffy," Willow said, standing as well.

Buffy smiled at her friends. "Thanks a lot, you two. Not many people would jump at the chance to take care of a sick former enemy."

Oz and Willow exchanged looks, silently communicating as couples do. "What are friends for?" Willow said.

"Besides, I like the guy," Oz added before heading off to find cleaning supplies.

Buffy frowned at Willow. "What was the looks for?" she asked as they went up the stairs.

"Oz has been talking to Spike on the phone a lot, especially since Drusilla died," Willow told her. "They're friends, in a ‘I don't see you, but you're still cool' kinda way."

"Oh," Buffy replied, finding sheets in the linen closet in the main bathroom. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

"It never came up," Willow shrugged as she followed Buffy into the bedroom. She glanced at the floor and wrinkled her nose. "Fun."

Buffy giggled quietly. Willow started to change the sheets as Buffy dug around the dressers to find some comfy clothes for Spike to wear to the doctor's, Oz coming into the room in the middle to start working on the floor. Willow then took the dirty ones to the laundry room as the Slayer went back into the extra-large master bathroom.

She looked down at Spike lying on the floor and felt a wave of tenderness wash over her. She turned on the tap water in the tub, then returned to the bedroom to retrieve the lamp from the other night stand. Bringing it to the bathroom, she set it down in the back corner on the sink and plugged it. Turning it on, she was glad to note that it softly illuminated the room without being overly harsh, allowing her to see better than from just the light coming from the bedroom.

"Buffy, Willow and I will be downstairs if you need us," Oz said into the bathroom as he finished with the floor.

Buffy nodded and closed the bathroom door as the guitarist walked away. Turning off the tap, she knelt on the floor next to the non-moving Spike. "Spike, you need to sit up," she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Spike blinked groggily, his mind fuzzy as slowly pushed himself to a sitting position with Buffy's help. He looked over at her with bleary eyes. "I don't feel good," he told her.

Buffy's lips quirked into a smile. "I know," she said, grasping the edges of his T-shirt. "Arms up." His arms barely raised as she pulled the shirt over his head, tossing it into the corner. She put the towel that was covering him back on the shower bar, then shut the toilet seat lid and helped him to sit on it. "Spike, I'm going to get you into the bathtub, but first we need to get off these shorts, ok?"

He nodded a little, breathing slowly through his mouth as he grasped her shoulders and lifted his hips slightly. Buffy pulled the shorts off of him, trying hard not to look and stood. She put his arm around her shoulder and helped him to his feet, then into the tub. He leaned back, his eyes closed and sighed as the water warmed and cooled him at the same time.

Buffy grinned at the small, happy smile on Spike's face and grabbed a washcloth and soap. She saw that he was wearing the small, gold cross she'd given him and her smile grew. "Ready to feel better?"

Spike turned his head in her direction, looking at her under heavy lids. "You are so wonderful," he whispered. "So bloody wonderful."

"What else would I be?" Buffy teased quietly, gently washing him. She was careful not to jar him in any way, having been this sick before. She watched as his eyes drifted shut again. After a few more minutes, she called his name. "Spike, time to get out."

"Ok," he replied, pushing himself to his feet with her help. Buffy got him out of the tub and dried him off with the towel as he leaned against the sink. Then, she helped him dress before putting her arm around his waist and escorting him from the bathroom to the bed, tucking him under the clean, cool sheets. He sighed and snuggled down against the pillow, then smiled up at the Slayer who was sitting on the edge of the bed. "I feel better."

"Rest," Buffy told him, leaning down to kiss his forehead. "We'll be leaving for the doctor's in about twenty minutes, ok?

"Love you," he mumbled in response, already drifting off before she even straightened.

Buffy smiled softly down at him. "I know."

Buffy grabbed the paper off the night stand with the doctor's phone number on it, then silently left the bedroom. Going downstairs, she found Oz and Willow in the kitchen doing the dishes. "We have about twenty minutes, guys," she told them as she sat at the table. She saw the letter magnets on the refrigerator and smiled.

Willow noticed what her best friend was looking at and smiled as well. "Someone has it real bad for you, Buffy."

"Weird, huh?" Buffy replied. "I wonder how long he's felt this way."

"Since August of last year," Oz answered offhandedly. Buffy arched her brow at him and he shrugged. "We're friends."

"What about you?" Willow asked her pointedly. "Have you decided to explore the ooshy side of Spike?"

"Ooshy side?" Buffy repeated with a grin. "I barely even know him."

"That didn't stop him from falling in love with you," Willow said, drying another dish.

"But I love Angel."

"But you can't have Angel," Willow stated. "Not in the all important having way. Plus, you said it yourself, you don't get that tingly feeling with him anymore. Maybe your love for him changed."

Buffy sighed. "You sound just like him," she said. "We had this whole I still love you, but it's ok to move on to someone else talk. However, I don't think he had Spike in mind."

"Well, we're graduating soon," Willow said. "Then you'll be down here for the summer with your dad. Which means..."

"Which means I can get to know Spike, yada, yada, yada," Buffy finished. She shook her head and stood. "I'm going to hit the ladies, then we should probably get going." The couple nodded and she went around the stairs to the powder room beneath them.

Closing the door behind her, she leaned back against it and closed her eyes. "Come on, Buffy. Second time's the charm, right?" she asked herself as she pulled a foil wrapped item from the inner pocket of her coat. A few minutes later, the Slayer swore for the second time since she woke up that morning as stared at the little blue line. She wasn't sure before, but she there was no mistake now.

Buffy was pregnant.

*****

"That's it, we're almost there," Buffy said as she led Spike into the doctor's office. The weak and pale former vampire leaned heavily on her as they walked, Willow assisting by getting the doors as Oz went to park the van.

After settling Spike into a chair, the two girls went to the nurses station to check in and fill out any paperwork. The medical questionnaire was a hoot to them, seeing as how he had only been human for six weeks. They basically put none to every question and named him Spike Williams. No insurance information was necessary since they were paying with the cash Buffy had found in his wallet.

The nurse called Spike's name, and Buffy half-carried him to a room, stripping off his duster and helping him up on the examining table. Groaning, he put his arm over his eyes as he laid back on the white paper, the other over his stomach after the nurse took his temperature and blood pressure. Buffy sat in the provided chair, coat across her lap and flipped through a very old magazine.

"Hello, Buffy," Dr. Clark greeted as he came into the room with a chart. "It's been awhile since I last saw you."

"Hi, Dr. Clark," Buffy returned the greeting. "What can I say, I've been healthy as a horse."

Dr. Clark smiled at her, then looked down at the chart. "It looks like your friend Spike is rather sick."

"That he most definitely is," she replied, standing and walking to Spike's side. "Spike, the doctor is here," she said quietly, touching his arm.

"Tell him to kill me," Spike said weakly, causing the two in the room to chuckle.

"You don't have to sit up, Spike," Dr. Clark said as he put the stethoscope in his ears. Buffy moved back to her chair as the examination began. After several minutes, the doctor started making notes in the chart. "He's going to need some blood work done and I'm going to prescribe Penicillin for now."

"Is that the pink stuff?" Buffy asked.

"That's the pink stuff," Dr. Clark replied with a smile. "One tablespoon three times a day until empty or otherwise notified." He ripped off the prescription from the pad, handing it to her with the lab sheets. "Take him around the corner to the lab for these tests. Your friend should feel better once the medicine takes effect. Until then, plenty of bed rest and liquids. And see if he can eat something, like crackers, toast, Jell-o or even soup."

"Thanks," Buffy said. The doctor nodded and left. Standing, the Slayer went over to Spike again. "Spike, time to move again."

"No," Spike replied.

Buffy chuckled. "Yes. You have to get some blood tests done, then we can get you home and to bed again."

"I like B positive," he muttered as he slowly sat up. With Buffy's help, they made there way to the lab. Luckily, there was no waiting and she was able to sit him right in the drawing table. He frowned at the technician who pushed up his sleeve and tied a rubber hose around his arm. "What are you doing?"

"Spike, he's going to draw blood," Buffy explained from next to him.

Spike watched wide eyed as the technician wiped his inner elbow with alcohol, then hold up a needle. When he stuck it in the peroxide blond's vein, Spike flinched. "Ouch! That bloody hurts, you wanker."

"Sorry, sir," the technician said, changing the test tube on the end of the needle. "Doctor's orders."

Spike turned to Buffy, who shook her head in affirmation. "I hate being human," he hissed at her, his stomach becoming queasy.

"I know," she said, putting her hand on his other arm. "You're almost done. Then we'll go home."

"Before or after I heave?"

*****

Spike managed not to heave and was now tucked back into bed, glass of ginger ale with a straw next to him on the night stand. The couple went out to get his prescription and a few other things while Buffy made him some toast and jelly. "Here," she said, sitting on the edge of the bed with a paper plate. She tucked a napkin in the collar of his shirt, then spread it over his chest. "See if you can get this down."

"Thanks," Spike replied, picking up a piece of toast and biting into it. The grape jelly on the bread tasted delicious and went down easily. He chewed slowly while looking at her thoughtfully. "Why are you being so good to me?"

Buffy gave him a small smile and a shrug. "You asked for help, I'm helping," she replied.

"What ever happened to that whole ‘we're two mortal enemies' thing?"

"It's hard to be mortal enemies when one half of the two mortal enemies is in love with the other half," she said, giving him a pointed look.

Spike started to blush, bringing color to his excessively pale cheeks. "Yeah, right. Who told you that?"

"Your refrigerator," Buffy replied with a grin. He looked down at the toast on the plate in his lap. "You also talk in your sleep."

"Bugger," he whispered.

"Bubble bath?" she teased.

Spike looked everywhere but at her, his embarrassment overriding his feeling of sickness. He had never wanted her to find out, even made Oz promise not to say anything to Willow. She loved Angel, not him, and he didn't want to have her knowing because that would make it worse having her choose his sire over him. "Um, you weren't suppose to know about that."

"The bubble bath?"

"No, the-the...bloody hell," he said, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. His stomach churned at the action. He swallowed heavily, feeling nauseous. He bit his lower lip, trying to force the feeling away. It didn't work.

His hand flew up to his mouth and he gave her a wide-eyed look, his face becoming deathly white. Shoving the covers and plate off his lap, he shot to his feet as Buffy moved out of the way, sprinting to the bathroom. She was right behind him as he lost what little he had in his stomach, holding his forehead and rubbing his back as she did earlier that day.

Breathing heavily over the toilet water, Spike felt the tears start again. Being sick was worse than feeling the bloodlust after nights of not feeding when he was still a vampire. For a moment, he cursed Drusilla for doing this to him, then grief washed over him about her death and what she had done for him, and he started to cry for real.

"Hey, it's ok," Buffy said, still rubbing his back. "Oz and Willow will be back with the medicine soon."

His sobs only grew, making him dry heave. He sucked in huge gulps of air, hiccuping and making a slight squeaking sound through his closed throat. He then felt himself being pulled against Buffy, who was kneeling at his side. She wrapped one arm around his shoulders, the other held his head to her chest as she murmured comforting words.

Spike didn't know how long they stayed like that before the tears ran out, leaving him feeling like he had no energy in his entire body. Willow and Oz must have returned because Buffy was talking to someone above his head.

"Thanks," Buffy said. "If you could call Giles, that would be great." Willow nodded before leaving the bathroom. She looked down at the top of Spike's blond head. "Are you ok?" she asked quietly.

Spike pulled away from her, wiping his face with the back of his sleeve. "This is bloody embarrassing."

"Don't be," Buffy told him. "Humans get sick, it's a fact of life."

"You don't," he muttered.

"Do, too," she replied. "Only thing is, I get to kill things while I'm sick. You only have to get better." She stood and picked up the washcloth she used earlier, wetting it with cool water. Putting the toilet lid down, she helped him onto it then began gently wiping his face with the cloth. "Feel good?"

Spike nodded. She finished up, then gave him his toothbrush, helping him stand by the sink. When he finished, she gave him a modicum of privacy as he went to the bathroom, then assisted him back to bed. She picked up the pink bottle of medicine on the night stand, measuring out a tablespoon in the cup provided and handing it to him. "The pink stuff tastes good," she commented as he quaffed it.

Standing, she pulled the covers up to his chin, then leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. "Get some sleep," Buffy said softly, her eyes tender. "If you need me, just ring the bell on the night stand. I'll be up in a little while to check on you."

She picked up the Penicillin and small cup, then switched off the lamp, leaving the only illumination coming from the lamp she put in the bathroom earlier. She was almost out the door when he spoke. "Slayer?"

"Yeah?" Buffy said, pausing in the doorway and looking back at him.

"Thank you."

"Get better, Spike. It's no fun to tease you when you're sick," she replied. She gave him a small smile, then left the room.

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