Fred hadn't been sure what to do when she had found herself deposited on a London street, uncertain about how she was even going to go about helping Giles or what exactly she was know. Cordelia had called her an Angel, but she didn't feel like it - especially since she was wearing the clothes she had died in.
Part of her wished that Wesley was there with her because she knew that he'd know what to do or at least he'd have a idea of where to start. She had always been the group helper, the one who helped with the research or the scientific aspects. She had never been the one to take the lead, not even when she and Charles had been in charge of the agency the summer Angel was missing and they had been taking care of...
Connor. Fred's brow furrowed as the memory came back to her. Angel had a son named Connor. She could have sworn that she had never known a Connor before, only she knew she did because she remembered him - she remembered everything, including not remembering him. What had Wolfram and Hart done to them? Was this what Cordelia had meant by her remark that the firm had lead them off the path? Altering them, blinding them, destroying them? Had Angel known? He had to - Connor had been his son.
She suddenly felt violated and didn't even know if the decision to go to Wolfram and Hart had even been her own. The thought that it might not have been didn't sit well with here at all, especially given what had happened to her and to Wesley. They had lost everything. And if they had gone willingly, that made it even worse.
Either way, she realized that she couldn't let someone else be pulled into that darkness. She had seen what happened to people who did, to her own friends. If the Powers wanted her to be their Angel, then she would be.
Sitting down on a bench nearby, she watched the Council building, deciding to wait for Giles to come out. She still wasn't sure what she was going to do to help him, but at the very least, she could maybe follow him for a while, see that he was safe for the time being until she knew exactly what was being planned against him.
As she sat there, it started to get colder, and she could feel it through the thin blouse and skirt she was wearing. She tried to ignore it though she wished she had a coat or something. February in London was quite different from February in Los Angeles. When he finally came out of the building, hunched in his jacket, she watched him as he turned and headed down the street before getting up from the bench and following him, staying on the opposite sidewalk across the road.
Giles continued to walk down the pavement and toward the pub. He glanced to his side and noticed the woman across the street from him. Stupid twit. Walking about London, in February, without a jacket on. Probably one of those drugged-out prostitutes that roam the city late at night, looking for the lonely souls.
He turned a corner and continued to walk. It was only a block or two from the pub. Giles shoved his hands in his pocket and suddenly got the feeling he was being followed. He glanced over and saw the woman was walking down the same street as him. He was being followed. Perhaps she wasn't a prostitute but a vampire.
Giles ducked into an alleyway and wrapped his fingers around the stake in his pocket. When he heard a noise behind him, he snorted. "First, I'm not going to pay you for sex. I can find better whores by the river. And second, if you're a vampire, I want you to know I trained one of the best Slayers there is. Now, why are you following me?" he asked, turning around.
Fred had been trying to stay far enough back that Giles wouldn't notice her but at the same time close enough that she wouldn't lose him. Passing some people, she got some strange looks, probably because of her clothes, but she tried to ignore it and stay focused on the man she was following.
He turned a corner and went down a side street, so she quickly crossed, keeping him in her sights. When he glanced her way, she tried to make herself inconspicuous, feeling severely out of place. "Lessons in spying and following would have been nice," she muttered to herself, suddenly noticing him duck down an alleyway.
Oh crap, had he seen her? Knowing that she had nothing to lose if he had, she hurried over and carefully stepped into the alley, only to kick a trashcan lid sitting on the ground. She stopped and cringed, knowing he had to have heard her.
Then he spoke to her, and she felt irritation bubbling in the pit of her stomach as her eyes opened wide. "Whore? I don't know where the hell you got that idea, but I'm not a hooker!" she told him, annoyed that he didn't even know her and could even think that about her. "And I'm not a vampire either. I know that--."
She stopped herself and took a deep breath, realizing that getting pissed off with him wasn't going to help. She decided to try a different tactic instead. "Look, I know who you are - that's why I'm here. You knew my friends Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and Cordelia Chase when they were in Sunnydale, and I was sent to find you. My name is Winifred Burkle."
"Oh, that's right. Whores like being called ladies of the night nowadays," Giles scoffed as he looked the woman over. "You seem a bit underdressed. Did your pimp not buy you any clothes?"
He knew he was being rude but he wasn't in the mood to be followed about by some slag, out to make a quick pound. If Giles wanted a quick shag, he'd pick up one of the women at the pub he wished he was at. Instead, he was stuck in a dark alley with this woman who just claimed to be Winifred Burkle. The same Winifred Burkle who had been consumed by Illyria.
"Winifred Burkle is dead. Consumed by an old one called Illyria…" He said before trailing off. His mind clicked and he remembered what his contact at Wolfram and Hart had told him. Giles let out a harsh laugh and shook his head.
"What Robert told me is true then. I'm sure you remember Robert. He's the one you almost killed because you caught him trailing you. He told me about how you could shift to make yourself look like Fred. No wonder it drove Wesley mad. Having you walk around, looking like his dead girlfriend," Giles said in a low voice. "So tell me, Illyria, why are you here and why are you following me?"
"I do not have a pimp! These were the clothes I was in!" Fred snapped back, a chill running over her arms, causing her to cross her arms as she stared at this unbelievably rude man.
Then he mentioned what Illyria had done to her, and her eyes opened wide as she took a deep breath, her skin prickling both from the cold and the memory of the heat and pain she had suffered from Illyria's infection.
"You know about that?" she whispered, just as Giles laughed, though it was anything but amused, and started railing against her. She stood there in disbelief, feeling her heart pounding - she still had a heart! - and her head spinning at his words. Illyria had done what?! She had caused Wesley to go mad?! She felt anger and hurt and grief rising from deep inside her, and when Giles actually called her Illyria, she couldn't hold back anymore.
"I am NOT Illyria!" she cried, feeling herself beginning to shake. "I'm Fred, and I don't even know this Robert, and I definitely didn't know anything about...about this...shifting to look like me or whatever it is you're talking about!" She didn't even know if she was allowed to say what had happened or how she had really got there, but it was all rushing out before she could stop it. "The last thing I remember, I was in Wesley's arms while something tried to swallow me whole, and it was hot, and it was painful, and I just wanted it to end so I wouldn't have to feel it anymore. Then I woke up, and Cordelia was there with some Irish guy, and she said the Powers were sending me back down here to put right what once went wrong or something like that, turning me in Sam-freaking-Beckett, and now I'm here, in the clothes I died in, because I'm supposed to help you, and now instead of being hot, I'm cold, and I don't know what I should be doing!"
"Yes, I know. Angel called, thinking I was going to send him help to save Fred. Why would I help that prick? Especially after what he did to me and Jenny. I hung up on him," Giles said with a smug look.
Then the woman went into a rant about not being Illyria and being cold and her clothes. A small part of him wanted to reach out for her as she stood there, shaking but he stopped himself. He wasn't a bleeding fool and he wasn't going to end up like Wesley. "Shut your trap," he growled. "You really have become good at this human stuff, haven't you Illyria. But you see, I'm not as naïve as Wesley and Angel and Spike." He shook his head. "Robert said he would watch Spike and you. Bloody wanker."
Giles pulled out his mobile and dialed Robert's number. After a few rings, the other man answered. "Robert, this is Rupert. I thought you were going to watch Illyria and Spike for me. Right. Then why is she standing in front of me? Oh. Are you sure? All right. Sorry for disturbing you." He rang off and stared at the woman - Fred.
He stared at her for a moment. According to Robert, Illyria and Spike were still in the states. Giles knew the Powers had their own way of dealing with things. Taking a step forward, he reached out a hand and softly touched Fred's neck, feeling a pulse. "Oh," he said, taking a step back. "You are her. I-I'm sorry."
Giles felt like an arse for treating her badly. He saw she was shaking so he shrugged his jacket off and held it out for her to take. "Why do I need help?"
When Giles told her to shut up, she took a step back like she had been physically slapped, her throat tightening. Why had they sent her here to help someone who wanted to treat her so horribly? She had always thought that Rupert Giles was supposed to be this wonderful guy based on what Willow had said, but he was just a jerk!
"Get me out of here," she said, looking upward while Giles took out his mobile and called his friend, tears forming in her eyes. "Please - I don't want to do this. Get me out of here. I can't help him, and I don't know what I'm doing or how I'm even supposed to do this."
Suddenly, she noticed him staring at her. "What? Want to throw more insults at me because God knows I haven't gotten enough of those yet tonight, never mind that I just woke up from what apparently was a year's slumber after having died!"
Instead of answering her, he reached out toward her, causing her to try to flinch away not wanting him to touch her. His fingers found her neck, however.
"You're sorry," she said, his apology deflating her anger and leaving her numb. She didn't even pay attention to the jacket he was holding out. "You call me a whore and the thing that killed me, and you're sorry." Trying to focus on why she was there instead, she took a deep breath and tried to wipe away the tears. "Cordy said something about someone being after you - someone who doesn't like the changes that have been to the Council. I don't know anything more than that."
"I'm sorry," he repeated when she asked if he had more insults for her. Giles continued to hold out the jacket for her but she didn't take it. He stepped forward and draped it over her shoulders. "It's too cold for you to be without a jacket, Fred." He then dug through his pocket and pulled out a handkerchief for her. "It's clean."
Giles was at a lost. He didn't know what to do. The poor woman in front of him had been taken away from the world she had known, only to sleep for a full year. He knew it had to be a shock to wake up and find her world had changed. It sort of reminded Giles of himself every morning he woke up, wondering where the world he knew had gone.
"You of all people should understand why I was skeptical, Fred. You're supposed to be dead. And I'm sorry for what I said." When she told him that someone didn't like the way he was running the Council, he sighed. That could be anyone. And when another cold wind blew through the alley, he looked over at her.
"My flat is close by. We can walk there and you could have a cup of tea and get warmed up. We can chat more. You can't just stand out here by yourself, Fred." He offered her his hand. "I'll make sure you're taken care of for tonight."
When Giles put the jacket around her, Fred immediately pulled it tighter around her against the chill, wanting to just fall asleep again. She was most definitely not prepared for this. They should have given her a manual or warned her or something.
Taking the handkerchief when he pressed it into her hand, she swiped it at her eyes, looking up at the night sky again and breathing in deeply while trying to calm herself. "I can understand the vampire thing. Maybe even the hooker thing although you'll have to excuse me for still being a little upset at being called a whore," she told him softly. "It's just...I didn't...I didn't know about Illyria. All I knew was that it was this awful, painful thing that made me feel so hollow and sick before I...before... I didn't know what happened after I died. I didn't know that you knew because last I knew, you didn't want anything to do with us at Wolfram and Hart."
She looked up at him, wanting to tell him what she remembered now about Angel and how they had ended up at Wolfram and Hart, but before she could, he invited her to his flat to get warmed up and to chat more. Looking around, she nodded.
"I don't have anywhere else to go, so yes, please," she said, just as the irony of him offering to take care of her for the night hit her, considering why she had been sent there. "Thank you."
Part of her wished that Wesley was there with her because she knew that he'd know what to do or at least he'd have a idea of where to start. She had always been the group helper, the one who helped with the research or the scientific aspects. She had never been the one to take the lead, not even when she and Charles had been in charge of the agency the summer Angel was missing and they had been taking care of...
Connor. Fred's brow furrowed as the memory came back to her. Angel had a son named Connor. She could have sworn that she had never known a Connor before, only she knew she did because she remembered him - she remembered everything, including not remembering him. What had Wolfram and Hart done to them? Was this what Cordelia had meant by her remark that the firm had lead them off the path? Altering them, blinding them, destroying them? Had Angel known? He had to - Connor had been his son.
She suddenly felt violated and didn't even know if the decision to go to Wolfram and Hart had even been her own. The thought that it might not have been didn't sit well with here at all, especially given what had happened to her and to Wesley. They had lost everything. And if they had gone willingly, that made it even worse.
Either way, she realized that she couldn't let someone else be pulled into that darkness. She had seen what happened to people who did, to her own friends. If the Powers wanted her to be their Angel, then she would be.
Sitting down on a bench nearby, she watched the Council building, deciding to wait for Giles to come out. She still wasn't sure what she was going to do to help him, but at the very least, she could maybe follow him for a while, see that he was safe for the time being until she knew exactly what was being planned against him.
As she sat there, it started to get colder, and she could feel it through the thin blouse and skirt she was wearing. She tried to ignore it though she wished she had a coat or something. February in London was quite different from February in Los Angeles. When he finally came out of the building, hunched in his jacket, she watched him as he turned and headed down the street before getting up from the bench and following him, staying on the opposite sidewalk across the road.
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He turned a corner and continued to walk. It was only a block or two from the pub. Giles shoved his hands in his pocket and suddenly got the feeling he was being followed. He glanced over and saw the woman was walking down the same street as him. He was being followed. Perhaps she wasn't a prostitute but a vampire.
Giles ducked into an alleyway and wrapped his fingers around the stake in his pocket. When he heard a noise behind him, he snorted. "First, I'm not going to pay you for sex. I can find better whores by the river. And second, if you're a vampire, I want you to know I trained one of the best Slayers there is. Now, why are you following me?" he asked, turning around.
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He turned a corner and went down a side street, so she quickly crossed, keeping him in her sights. When he glanced her way, she tried to make herself inconspicuous, feeling severely out of place. "Lessons in spying and following would have been nice," she muttered to herself, suddenly noticing him duck down an alleyway.
Oh crap, had he seen her? Knowing that she had nothing to lose if he had, she hurried over and carefully stepped into the alley, only to kick a trashcan lid sitting on the ground. She stopped and cringed, knowing he had to have heard her.
Then he spoke to her, and she felt irritation bubbling in the pit of her stomach as her eyes opened wide. "Whore? I don't know where the hell you got that idea, but I'm not a hooker!" she told him, annoyed that he didn't even know her and could even think that about her. "And I'm not a vampire either. I know that--."
She stopped herself and took a deep breath, realizing that getting pissed off with him wasn't going to help. She decided to try a different tactic instead. "Look, I know who you are - that's why I'm here. You knew my friends Wesley Wyndam-Pryce and Cordelia Chase when they were in Sunnydale, and I was sent to find you. My name is Winifred Burkle."
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He knew he was being rude but he wasn't in the mood to be followed about by some slag, out to make a quick pound. If Giles wanted a quick shag, he'd pick up one of the women at the pub he wished he was at. Instead, he was stuck in a dark alley with this woman who just claimed to be Winifred Burkle. The same Winifred Burkle who had been consumed by Illyria.
"Winifred Burkle is dead. Consumed by an old one called Illyria…" He said before trailing off. His mind clicked and he remembered what his contact at Wolfram and Hart had told him. Giles let out a harsh laugh and shook his head.
"What Robert told me is true then. I'm sure you remember Robert. He's the one you almost killed because you caught him trailing you. He told me about how you could shift to make yourself look like Fred. No wonder it drove Wesley mad. Having you walk around, looking like his dead girlfriend," Giles said in a low voice. "So tell me, Illyria, why are you here and why are you following me?"
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Then he mentioned what Illyria had done to her, and her eyes opened wide as she took a deep breath, her skin prickling both from the cold and the memory of the heat and pain she had suffered from Illyria's infection.
"You know about that?" she whispered, just as Giles laughed, though it was anything but amused, and started railing against her. She stood there in disbelief, feeling her heart pounding - she still had a heart! - and her head spinning at his words. Illyria had done what?! She had caused Wesley to go mad?! She felt anger and hurt and grief rising from deep inside her, and when Giles actually called her Illyria, she couldn't hold back anymore.
"I am NOT Illyria!" she cried, feeling herself beginning to shake. "I'm Fred, and I don't even know this Robert, and I definitely didn't know anything about...about this...shifting to look like me or whatever it is you're talking about!" She didn't even know if she was allowed to say what had happened or how she had really got there, but it was all rushing out before she could stop it. "The last thing I remember, I was in Wesley's arms while something tried to swallow me whole, and it was hot, and it was painful, and I just wanted it to end so I wouldn't have to feel it anymore. Then I woke up, and Cordelia was there with some Irish guy, and she said the Powers were sending me back down here to put right what once went wrong or something like that, turning me in Sam-freaking-Beckett, and now I'm here, in the clothes I died in, because I'm supposed to help you, and now instead of being hot, I'm cold, and I don't know what I should be doing!"
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Then the woman went into a rant about not being Illyria and being cold and her clothes. A small part of him wanted to reach out for her as she stood there, shaking but he stopped himself. He wasn't a bleeding fool and he wasn't going to end up like Wesley. "Shut your trap," he growled. "You really have become good at this human stuff, haven't you Illyria. But you see, I'm not as naïve as Wesley and Angel and Spike." He shook his head. "Robert said he would watch Spike and you. Bloody wanker."
Giles pulled out his mobile and dialed Robert's number. After a few rings, the other man answered. "Robert, this is Rupert. I thought you were going to watch Illyria and Spike for me. Right. Then why is she standing in front of me? Oh. Are you sure? All right. Sorry for disturbing you." He rang off and stared at the woman - Fred.
He stared at her for a moment. According to Robert, Illyria and Spike were still in the states. Giles knew the Powers had their own way of dealing with things. Taking a step forward, he reached out a hand and softly touched Fred's neck, feeling a pulse. "Oh," he said, taking a step back. "You are her. I-I'm sorry."
Giles felt like an arse for treating her badly. He saw she was shaking so he shrugged his jacket off and held it out for her to take. "Why do I need help?"
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"Get me out of here," she said, looking upward while Giles took out his mobile and called his friend, tears forming in her eyes. "Please - I don't want to do this. Get me out of here. I can't help him, and I don't know what I'm doing or how I'm even supposed to do this."
Suddenly, she noticed him staring at her. "What? Want to throw more insults at me because God knows I haven't gotten enough of those yet tonight, never mind that I just woke up from what apparently was a year's slumber after having died!"
Instead of answering her, he reached out toward her, causing her to try to flinch away not wanting him to touch her. His fingers found her neck, however.
"You're sorry," she said, his apology deflating her anger and leaving her numb. She didn't even pay attention to the jacket he was holding out. "You call me a whore and the thing that killed me, and you're sorry." Trying to focus on why she was there instead, she took a deep breath and tried to wipe away the tears. "Cordy said something about someone being after you - someone who doesn't like the changes that have been to the Council. I don't know anything more than that."
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Giles was at a lost. He didn't know what to do. The poor woman in front of him had been taken away from the world she had known, only to sleep for a full year. He knew it had to be a shock to wake up and find her world had changed. It sort of reminded Giles of himself every morning he woke up, wondering where the world he knew had gone.
"You of all people should understand why I was skeptical, Fred. You're supposed to be dead. And I'm sorry for what I said." When she told him that someone didn't like the way he was running the Council, he sighed. That could be anyone. And when another cold wind blew through the alley, he looked over at her.
"My flat is close by. We can walk there and you could have a cup of tea and get warmed up. We can chat more. You can't just stand out here by yourself, Fred." He offered her his hand. "I'll make sure you're taken care of for tonight."
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Taking the handkerchief when he pressed it into her hand, she swiped it at her eyes, looking up at the night sky again and breathing in deeply while trying to calm herself. "I can understand the vampire thing. Maybe even the hooker thing although you'll have to excuse me for still being a little upset at being called a whore," she told him softly. "It's just...I didn't...I didn't know about Illyria. All I knew was that it was this awful, painful thing that made me feel so hollow and sick before I...before... I didn't know what happened after I died. I didn't know that you knew because last I knew, you didn't want anything to do with us at Wolfram and Hart."
She looked up at him, wanting to tell him what she remembered now about Angel and how they had ended up at Wolfram and Hart, but before she could, he invited her to his flat to get warmed up and to chat more. Looking around, she nodded.
"I don't have anywhere else to go, so yes, please," she said, just as the irony of him offering to take care of her for the night hit her, considering why she had been sent there. "Thank you."
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