Author's Note: Continues from the last chapter (duh!). I want to give credit however. The first ten words of this chapter, as well as the whole speech Anya gives Spencer, are directly from Chelle's wonderful "I Have to Know," which can be found on her web site at http://www.burning-eden.com. One of, if not the best, post Joyce fic I've found. It's all used with her permission, of course.

Part II

That Evening

"Joyce was the only 'mother' any of us had really," Anya was saying, mixing the ingredients together in a large bowl. She and Xander had arrived a while ago, and she had begun a mad search to find all of the paperwork involved in Joyce's business. Giles had helped, at first, but then he and Nicholas had to go make arrangements for the funeral. Fortunately, they had found almost everything by then. Anya decided she would go through it that night.

She had wanted to tell Dawn what she had in mind, but the sole surviving Summers woman was still in the basement with her cousin and Spike. Probably not a good time to interrupt, she thought.

At that point she had walked into the kitchen and found Spencer preparing some sort of pasta and cheese dish.

"What are you doing?" she asked him.

"Comfort food," he replied. "Everyone's going to have to eat sometime, thought I'd get a jump on it."

"Comfort food?" She'd heard the phrase before, but no one had ever explained it to her.

"Yeah," Spencer said, stirring the mix into a casserole, "Something that somehow brings a sense of peace, or comfort. It varies from person to person, but there are a few standards." He topped off the creation with a layer of breadcrumbs. "Macaroni and cheese, almost always a good bet," he told her with a smile, setting the overflowing dish into the oven.

Anya's mind jumped back to a few months earlier.

" Aww, honey, don't worry. I'll help you. I'm free until four when I have to pick up Dawn. I'll show you a Summers' family secret passed down from generation to generation."

" But I'm not family."

" Since when?"

"Buffy's mom taught me how to make meatloaf," she told Spencer, returning to the moment. "I ran into her at the grocery store and I was panicking because I wanted to make something romantic for Xander's dinner at his new apartment, and she just magically appeared when I was about to dissolve into tears. She told me that Xander loved her meatloaf, showed me which stuff to buy, then followed me to Xander's place, where she mixed it all up, talking me through the motions, and then put it in the oven. She helped me set the table, mix the salad, and then left to pick up Dawn at school. And she hugged me. She gave me a very real, very motherly hug, and told me we'd have to get together soon. She called me family."

She looked up at Spencer, tears just visible in her eyes.

"Would that be comfort food?"

"C'mon," he said, taking her arm and leading her to the refrigerator, "Let's make sure we have everything."

*******

"Willow and the others should be here soon," Tara said, sprinkling grated cheese over her creation. "She said they'd be leaving almost immediately when she called."

The kitchen had now become relatively packed as more people decided to contribute to the cooking effort. The small table threatened to collapse under the combined weight of Spencer's Macaroni and Cheese, Anya's Meatloaf, some Cajun rice dish that Remy had created, a basic chicken soup courtesy of Jean, and the now finished seven-layer salad of Tara's.

"Well," commented Hank, setting his recently finished chocolate cake on the last open spot of the table, "At least we won't have to worry about feeding everyone."

Alexis had grabbed Logan a little while earlier, and the two of them had made a run to the store to grab any missing ingredients, as well as stocking up on any imaginable beverage. They had also stopped by the butcher shop downtown and grabbed several pints of blood, since both Spike and Angel would be there.

Giles and Nicholas had returned from making arrangements, and informed the others that the funeral would be held the next afternoon. They had found an isolated spot in the cemetery, near Joyce's grave, but not easily noticed if one didn't know where to look. It also sat in a grove of trees that would provide ample shade, ensuring that Spike and Angel could attend. Once they had made sure everyone knew, they immediately grabbed a couple of beers and moved to the back porch to discuss how best to present the illusion of the Slayer's continued presence in Sunnydale.

The sound of the basement door closing came into the kitchen. Jean looked questioningly at Scott as he, Dawn and Spike came into the room. He simply nodded, a very slight smile on his face. Dawn however, had smelled the food, and suddenly realized she was starving. She looked in awe at the table.

"Guys?" she asked, "How many people are we expecting? And…is that Mom's meatloaf?"

"Yes!" Anya replied, beaming, "Comfort food."

"You…know how to make Mom's meatloaf?" Dawn asked her.

"She taught me a few months ago," Anya said. She was taken by surprise when Dawn ran over and engulfed her in a hug.

"Thank you…" the teen whispered.

"We're going to take care of you, Dawnie," Anya told her.

Dawn pulled away from her, and smiled.

"Actually," she started, "I kind of have an announcement to make." She looked around the kitchen, "Could everyone come into the living room?" she asked.

"Do you want to wait for the others, sweetie?" Tara asked her.

"No," Dawn said. "I need to let you guys know about this."

The others followed her into the living room, gathering up the last few stragglers as they went. As everyone found a place to stand or sit, Dawn looked around and took a deep breath.

"Okay," she started, "I've been downstairs talking with Scott…and Spike…and, uhm," she paused for a second. Taking another breath she continued. "…I'mgoingtogotoNewYorkforawhileafterthefuneral," she finished quickly.

Everyone in the room looked at her, patiently waiting for her to continue. Finally, Spike broke the silence.

"Doncha mean 'we', nibblet?" he asked.

"Right," Dawn said, "Me and Spike."

"Waitaminute!" Xander shouted out, "You… and SPIKE?"

"Xander…" Giles started.

"You mean you're taking Evil Dead here into an all you can eat…" Xander continued.

"Xander…" Tara spoke softly.

"…Lunch counter, and you expect us to…" Xander plowed on.

"I expect you to accept that," Professor Xavier interjected.

"But…" Xander said.

"No, Alexander," the Professor returned, "Listen for just a moment, and then make any arguments you might have."

Spike, meanwhile, had retreated as far into the shadows as he could.

The front door opened at that point, and Willow walked into the living room, with Angel, Cordelia and Wesley behind her.

"Hey, we're here," she said, walking over to Tara and giving her a hug.

"Great," Xander spoke out, "Maybe you can convince these guys that sending Spike to New York with Dawn is a bad idea."

"Xander…" Alexis growled.

"Spike and Dawn…what?" asked Angel.

"Okay," Dawn said, "One more time. After the funeral, I'm going to spend a while in New York at the Institute. Get away from here for a while. And Spike's going with me." She turned and faced the entire room with her hands on her hips. "Any problems with that?" she challenged.

"Oh, only that, say, Spike is evil!" shouted Xander.

"And how evil was he when he was tortured by Glory, huh?" the teen retorted.

Xander stopped, his hand in the air, the next argument he was getting ready to make dying in his thoughts. His mind took him back to the night he and Giles carried Spike back to his crypt, to the bruised and bloody body they had deposited. And to Buffy's statement the next day that the vampire had endured all that torture because he refused to put Dawn in danger.

"…you're right…" he said. He turned to Spike.

"I don't like you," he told the vampire. "At all. I used to hate you, but I can't anymore. Not after what you took for Dawn." He stared directly into Spike's eyes. "I don't like you, but where Dawn is concerned, I trust you." He held out his hand, never removing his gaze.

Spike looked like he'd been presented with a snake for a moment, then reached out and took Xander's hand, shaking it.

"Don't make me regret that trust," Xander said softly.

"Stake me if I do," Spike replied.

Angel walked over and grabbed Xander roughly.

"Are you out of your mind?" he growled, "How can you possibly trust him? What did he do to you?"

"He was here…when she needed him." Xander said simply, letting his distaste show.

Dawn walked over to the newcomers, reaching out and taking both of Cordelia's hands.

"Thanks for coming," she said softly, trying to break the tension.

"Dawnie," Cordy replied, "I'm sorry…"

"No," Dawn interrupted her, "No sorry's. Buffy was very clear about that." Everyone in the room looked at her at that point, and she realized she had better explain.

"She thought this was going to happen, and she wrote me a letter," she started, "She knew that it was going to be painful, but what she really wanted was for us to live, and not be sorry for me, for her, for any of us. And she said if we all got together like this, she wanted it to be a good thing. Memories of good times. She doesn't want us unhappy."

"Irish wake…" Alexis mumbled. Several nods were made to her statement.

"It does seem like her," Giles said softly.

"She loved life," Spike whispered.

"Bronzing," Willow added.

"Eating," Xander said with a smile.

Dawn's stomach apparently took Xander's comment as a cue, and started grumbling again. She reached out and grabbed Cordy's hand again.

"C'mon," she told the young seer as she dragged her into the kitchen, "You have never seen this much food in one place."

Wesley walked over and shook Giles' hand.

"And how are you holding up?" he asked.

"As well as could be expected," Giles replied. "I noticed Gunn didn't come with you."

"Yes, well we just rescued a young woman from another dimension," Wesley informed him. "Not a very pleasant place for humans, and she had been trapped there for five years. Gunn is staying at the hotel, to keep an eye on her. He does send his regards however."

"Hmm," Giles said thoughtfully. "Another dimension? I'd like to hear about that at some point. However, at the moment…."

Alexis noticed Angel slipping quietly out the front door at that point, a determined look on his face.

"Ah, fuck," she muttered softly. With a glance, she sent Tabouli out to watch after Dawn, and then followed Angel out the front door.

"Angel," she demanded once she reached the porch.

"I don't know what spell Spike has them under, but I'm going to find out," Angel returned, walking toward the street.

"There is no spell," Alexis told him, "And if there was, what would you do?"

"I'll beat every demon in Sunnydale into a pulp until I find the one who helped him in this," He turned back to her, and his eyes glowed gold. "There is no way Spike is doing this without some kind of evil purpose."

Alexis sat on the bottom step of the porch and sighed, why did it always have to be difficult?

"Angel," she said softly, "There is no purpose. No secondary motive. He promised Buffy he'd take care of her…"

"And there's no way he'd have been close enough to do so without…."

"Get over it!" Alexis shouted, "What is the problem here?"

"He doesn't have a soul!" Angel returned, "How can you possibly…"

"A soul?" Alexis shot back, "Are you still buying into that fifteenth century crap about the vampire not having a soul?"

"Of course a vampire doesn't have a soul!" Angel shouted, "And that…"

"Is pure bullshit!" Alexis shouted back, "You can't remove the soul from the body. That's kind of like extracting the cerebellum and expecting the brain to function."

"I don't know what you're up to…" Angel said, "But I'm going to go out there and…"

"No," Alexis said evenly, "You're not."

"And who's going to stop me?" Angel asked.

Alexis just sat back on the step and waited.

The hair on the back of Angel's neck suddenly stood on end, and as he turned he saw why.

There, in the middle of Revello Drive, were about eighty cats. Strays, from the look of it. And when he turned back around again, there were another eighty or so standing along the sidewalk to the house. And then he saw the eyes in the bushes. Green and gold, glowing eyes. Watching.

Okay, he could probably survive the experience. But with over two hundred cats coming at him, it was going to hurt. Bad. Not something to look forward to.

His eyes reverted back to their normal brown, and he asked "How?"

Alexis looked up at him, her gaze softening for a moment as one of the strays brushed up against her leg.

"Amazing isn't it," she said, "We walk through our lives, and we never see them, never notice their plight." She reached out and stroked the orange tabby behind the ears. "Well, maybe in Morocco, they're almost treated like gods there." She stood and looked the vampire in the eyes. "Sadly, this isn't Morocco."

"They're everywhere," she continued, and as she spoke, her eyes took on a new color, almost seeming to glow amber. "And they wait. Wanting nothing more than what should be by all rights theirs."

"…you were saying…" Angel stuttered, "About the soul…"

"Young vampire," Alexis said.

"Wait, I'm over two hundred…." Angel started.

The glow from Alexis' eyes shot out and surrounded her entire body.

"What is two hundred years to one who counts time in millennia?" she demanded, "You know nothing of the true nature of this world you would try to save! There are powers at work that you have never dreamed of, young vampire!"

Angel stepped back, burned by the light coming from Alexis. But everywhere he turned, the eyes of the cats were shedding the same light. Reality suddenly faded, and there was nothing but darkness, and her voice.

"The vampire is a mindless symbiotic parasite," it said, "When it takes over a human form, it removes anything from the mind that could interfere in its survival, and it's reproduction. By modern terms, we'd call it the super-ego."

Angel remembered then, the demon, trapped in a boy that it had tried to possess, and wanting to get away from the darkness it found within.

"You wish to be a champion?" the voice asked. "Then you must begin by learning that nothing is as you know it. Have you not already caused great damage by jumping to conclusions?"

And then he was on his knees in front of Alexis on the sidewalk, and she reached out and held his face in her hands.

"Tell me," she said, "What would Liam have done if he had no conscience? Who would he have become?"

And the truth of the question struck him. Liam. Beaten by his father and forced into a mold he never wanted. If he'd had the chance, he would have been…

"Angelus," he answered.

"And if that conscience is returned all at once?" she continued.

"Bad…" he said, tears in his eyes, "Very bad."

"Exactly," she replied, letting go of his face. "It looks like Spike might have a slightly easier time of it."

"…you mean…" Angel started.

"Nothing," Alexis said, her eyes returning to their normal hazel shade. "I mean nothing. It simply could be easier, say, to get your conscience back a little at a time."

"…I…I'm sorry," Angel said.

"Not me you should be telling," Alexis replied. "You ready to go back inside and eat some crow?"

Smiling, in spite of himself, Angel nodded, and stood up.

As they walked back up to the door, he noticed the cats were no longer there, and something struck him. He reached out and touched Alexis' arm.

"I know that you share a bond with you're companion cats," he said. "And the strays? Do you feel them?"

Alexis turned and looked at him.

"All the time," she whispered, "Every one."