Three hours later Angel and Spike walked into Buffy’s old house, only now it was
where Angel lived according to Spike.  Angel was curious to see who his mother was
in this reality. He wasn’t totally surprised to find Joyce sitting in the kitchen
drinking coffee.

"Mom?" he questioned her.

"Oh so you finally decided to make an appearance have you," Joyce looked
annoyed.

"Uh. Sorry I was..."

"I have a pretty good idea where you were young man and we’ve had this
discussion before,  I thought we’d got this sorted out, if you’re going to be out all
night then you call me so I don’t sit up all night wondering if this is the night my
boy doesn’t make it home," Joyce managed a smile obviously she couldn’t stay mad
at him for too long.

"Sorry, I just had a weird night." Angel tried to explain, but he just couldn’t find the
words. 

Joyce got off her chair and came to Angel, hugged him and then looked into his
eyes. "Are you hurt?"

"No, I’m ok" he answered.  Angel felt strange being this close to Joyce, it was nice,
comforting,  he felt safe and loved, he suddenly understood Buffy a little better and
was jealous. For a moment he wanted this to be real to be loved like this forever.
His own mother had never shown him this kind of affection, in those days it just
wasn’t done.  Tears welled up in his eyes as Joyce stroked his hair.

"Liam what is it?" She asked.

"Nothing. I’m just tired I guess.. I’m going to go have a shower and change,"

"Are you hungry? I’ll cook some thing when you come down."

"I’m hungry," Spike interjected.

"You’re always hungry William," Joyce smiled.

Spike stayed in the kitchen with Joyce while Angel made his way upstairs, he’d
been here a lot with Buffy and guessed that her room was now his. He opened the
door to find a rather messy room, the wardrobe was open with clothes scattered all
over the place looking like a tornado had ripped through the room.* I’m a total slob
*  There were a few books about demons etc on the desk and floor by the bed and
Mansun posters on the wall. The bed was unmade; in fact it looked like it had never
been made in the first place. He sat down on the pile of quilts and held his head in
his hands. With no warning tears streamed down his face and he began to sob like
a child. He was totally confused.  Cordelia was no closer to explaining what was
going on, and they had found no mention of either Spike or himself in the history 
books.  Instead, there were tales of Giles and his harem of female vampires 
terrorizing Europe. 

He pulled himself together and started to straighten the room. Then as he opened
the wardrobe to put the clothes away he came face to face with himself. For long
moments he stood there looking at this young man looking back at him. He had to
admit that he looked better than he would have expected.  He’d often dreamed of
seeing his reflection in a mirror. In his mind, he’d expected to be older with the
lines of his pain etched upon his face, but here he was young again, eyes bright,
skin alive, hair.. Well he could always do something about that. He hung the clothes
and closed the door putting his reflection away as well. 


An hour later he was showered and dressed in clean jeans and t-shirt, he walked
down the stairs into the kitchen, before he reached the door he listened to the
conversation between Spike and Joyce.

"And he says that he’s not supposed to be here. That Buffy is the slayer, and get
this, I’m a vampire too," Spike laughed.

"What does Cordelia say?" Joyce sounded concerned.

"Well she did a quick look through the watcher diaries and the other history books
but found no mention of this Angelus or a Spike. She thinks that maybe he’s been
working too hard or maybe taking drugs although that would seem completely out
of character for Liam." Spike shrugged.

Angel walked into the kitchen. There was a smell of bacon and eggs. His mouth
began to water and he realised how hungry he was. All conversation had come to a
halt and Spike was just looking at him.

"Sweetie how do you feel now?" Joyce asked bringing him a plate of food.

"Better," he answered, feeling uncomfortable that they had talked behind his back,
and mad at Spike for saying anything at all. Joyce didn’t need to know, she’d only
worry.

They all sat in silence while Angel slowly ate the food Joyce had cooked. Everything
sensation was new and strange to him.  The soft, rubbery texture of the eggs, the
chewy saltiness of the bacon, the toast was harsh against the roof of his mouth, but
the taste of butter was heavenly. He realised he missed eating. It had never
occurred to him before, but this was definitely one of life’s pleasures.

"So what have you two got planned for the rest of the day?" Joyce inquired.

"Patrol!"

"Party!" came the responses in unison.

"Huh..yeah Patrol... that’s what I meant to say." grinned Spike as Angel glared at
him.

"I take it you will be back tonight." Joyce directed the question to Angel.

"Yeah, I won’t be late, I promise."

"Ok then, I’ll leave you a snack in the fridge.  I’ve got some things to sort out at
the gallery so I’ll be late myself."

The boys headed back to the Magic shop to check in and then started their sweep of
the favorite monster hangouts.

TBC