Disclaimer: I own nothing, Angel belongs to Joss Whedon and whoever else who owns Angel.

Warning: Spoilers for eventually pretty much all the seasons, so...

The music was slow at first, creating a beautiful melody as the dancers gracefully moved across the stage. It was quite impressive, Wesley had to admit. The dancing was clearly well constructed, no doubt by a fantastic choreographer. It truly seemed like the dancers knew exactly what they were doing, knowing at each moment when they were set to do something without hesitation. The music picked up rapidly, causing a bit of a splurge of excitement as the dance began to get quicker to meet the beautifully fast tempo of the music.

And then there was Cordelia's snoring. Cordy and Angel were sitting in two seats in the row above Wes, Gunn, and Fred. Wes could imagine others were angered by her snoring as well and were probably shooting her and Angel dirty looks.

Sneakily, Wes stole a glance at Fred. She looked magnificent tonight in her red dress, hair all curly and put up, and makeup all put on. Fred always looked beautiful anyway, in Wes's opinion. But tonight there was just something…different. Something magical. Cordelia had told him that Fred felt the same way about him.

Unfortunately, Cordelia had gotten the wrong vibe and Fred wasn't really thinking of Wes in that way. There was actually someone else who was catching her eye. That someone else was currently leaning forward, grinning, and enjoying the performance of Giselle.

The dance being performed at the moment ended extremely climactically. Applause flooded the entire theater. Gunn clapped especially loud, yelling "Bravo!" Wes heard Cordy jerk awake and say something to Angel, but couldn't make out what exactly. People started filling out, headed towards the lobby. Walking down the row, Fred almost tripped in her shoes, but was okay by instinctively grabbing onto Wes's arm.

"Oops. Look at clumsy ole me." she grinned, jokingly. Wesley smiled, feeling excitement run through his system. Before the night was over, he'd have to talk to Fred. Alone.

The five of them entered the lobby. Gunn began praising Giselle, which was essentially a surprise for everyone. He'd been very reluctant when Angel first got the tickets. Although, if Angelus of all people (or vampires) could enjoy this ballet, then it made enough sense for someone like Gunn to enjoy it.

"They certainly live up to their reputation," Wes said. He looked at Angel, who was frowning as if in deep thought, probably worrying about Connor with Lorne. In an effort to distract him, Wes asked: "Has the choreography changed much since…?"

"No," Angel shook his head. "Nothing's changed. It's exactly the same."

"Take it from me; they should've changed it." Cordy stifled a yawn. "Majorly."

"Hey, it's perfect the way it is," Gunn argued. "There ain't a single thing that could make it better."

"No, guys, you don't understand," Angel went on. "It's exactly the same as it was in 1890. Even the dancers on the stage are exactly the same. Haven't aged a single day."

"Looks like somebody fell asleep too," Cordy smiled. Then she looked around the lobby. "Are there any snacks?"

"I didn't fall asleep," Angel told her.

"So are you thinking vampires?" Wes asked Angel. It wasn't impossible, he figured. Some crazed vampire manager of Giselle wanted the show to be perfect forever, perhaps. But then Angel told them that it wasn't vampires on the stage, it was something else. The lights in the lobby flickered on and off, signaling the end of intermission. Fred proposed the idea of them snooping around once the show was over. Admittedly, Wes's heart leapt at the thought of going on an adventure of sorts with Fred. Maybe then they could be alone, and Wes was extremely anxious to talk with Fred.

"You guys go back in," Angel insisted. "I'll snoop around backstage."

"No!" Wes quickly intervened, faster and louder than he'd intended. Everyone turned and looked at him. "I-I mean, you should go back in. With your vampire seeing and hearing and everything, you can look around in the dark and notice if anything's off or if anyone's doing something suspicious when we wouldn't be able to see. I'll go snooping backstage."

Angel didn't respond at first. By the look on his face, Wes could tell he wasn't too keen on what he was saying. He'd want to go explore backstage, and Wes couldn't blame him. Still, he just hoped…

"Fine," Angel finally spoke after a tense few seconds. "I'll go back in."

"I'll come with you," Cordy said. "Maybe my new demon-y powers can pick something up too."

"I…" Gunn paused. He looked at Fred, beautiful Fred. If there was a chance to spend time with her, he wanted to take it. But, undeniably, he wanted to see the second act to the ballet.

"It's okay," Fred smiled at him. "I'll go with Wesley. Go enjoy the rest of the show."

With that, Angel, Cordy, and Gunn left with the rest of the crowd. Wes looked at Fred and flashed a nervous smile. She told him they should get to looking around now.

Things were eerily silent aside from the distant hum of the music, giving the building a haunting feel. Wes couldn't help but be a little shaken. Fred, on the other hand, seemed completely calm. She was amazing. A survivor. To be stuck in Pylea and survive like she had was one of the bravest stories he'd ever heard. And seeing her come down those steps in the Hyperion everyday caused his heart to skip a beat every time.

After a short while, they found a door leading to stairs which led to another door that would bring them backstage. The only problem was that there was a guard standing in front of the door. He looked bored and unfocused. Luckily, he didn't notice Wes and Fred.

"What do we do?" Fred whispered. "Sneak up on him? You grab him I knock him out?" She started looking around for some sort of weapon.

"He's a guard, Fred, not a demon."

"So what? We need to get back there. Do you want to come?"

"Excuse me?"

"Backstage. Do you want to come or not?"

"Ah," Wes nodded. "I suppose." Fred being all bossy and giving orders was cute to him, actually. He started looking around for something he could knock the guard out with.

Once the job was done, they walked inside and closed the door behind them. Almost instantly, they found themselves walking down a hall—a hall that seemed too long for words. There was definitely something going on here, something magical. Nothing normal would cause a hall to be this long. It was almost like they were passing the same doors over and over again.

"Maybe we should turn back," Fred suggested after a few minutes. But when they turned around, it was a completely different corridor than before. "Or not," she spoke dejectedly.

They started walking down this new corridor. Wes managed to work out all the courage inside of him and took a deep breath. The time wasn't ideal, supposedly, but Wes figured they weren't going to be interrupted anytime soon.

"Listen, Fred. There's, uh, something I wanted to talk with you about."

"Wesley?"

"I know it's not the best time, but-"

"No, Wesley, look!" she pointed at a door that appeared different than all of the other doors they'd seen. "Maybe it's an exit?"

"Maybe," Wes said, although he didn't like the thought of her interrupting him so they could possibly get out of here. He wanted to talk with her, but he guessed that it would just have to wait.

Fred opened the door and they found themselves in a dressing room. Fred was disappointed, but walked in the dressing room anyway. This was what they were looking for. Maybe in here there would be some sort of clue as to how all the dancers hadn't aged and were still doing the same performance.

Fred walked over to a dressing table and found a little chain with a cross on it. She guessed that meant Angel was right. Vampires wouldn't keep crosses—or mirrors—in their dressing room.

Suddenly she felt her entire demeanor changed. It was like her own mind was just cast aside as something else seemed to take control, and she couldn't fight it. Fred dropped the cross and spun around, looking at Wesley, who was snooping around the room a bit.

"What are you doing here?" Fred's voice questioned.

Wes looked at her. "Fred? What are you-"

Something changed. His mind was pushed to the sides just like Fred's, and he somehow heard words in his voice that were not his own. And yet somehow the thing in his head almost felt right, like it was supposed to happen.

"I came back for you," Wes spoke, stepping forward. "Did you really think I would just leave you here, alone?" Again he stepped forward, this time arriving right in front of Fred. He looked down at her as she gazed up into his eyes. Their bodies were so close to touching. He felt her breath on his skin and she felt his on hers

"You don't understand." Water formed in Fred's eyes. "It's over."

Wes reached over and lightly touched Fred's face, slowly tracing down until he reached her neck. "No, it never is. I can feel you. I can see you. If we don't give up, we can—"

"It's too late, and you're just afraid to admit it! Because you don't think you can live without me."

"Because I can't," Wesley found himself fighting, still not himself. "Every time I see her…you're all I think about. And if there's a possibility to get you back, I won't let go. I will fight and fight and fight until you're in my life again."

"There's no hope."

"I can save you."

"How?!"

Out of nowhere Wes was leaning down and kissing Fred. With the feeling of her lips pressed against his, he wasn't sure whether to be excited or worried. What was going on? Who was taking over him? Either way, it was too powerful to fight; giving him the illusion they had no choice but finish the scene off.

They pulled apart, breathing heavily. Fred cupped his face with her hands.

"I love you," she whispered, a few tears falling down her face. Then she kissed him again, and it was so hard to pull apart.

"Let me save you from this rotten dark abyss," Wesley urged. "Let me bring you back."

"But she's already here."

"Our love is stronger than anything. This must be proven for us to be safe."

They began kissing again, harder this time, more forcefully. So forcefully they fell back onto a lounge. In Fred's own mind, she knew this was wrong. Whatever was happening wasn't right. At the same time, she found herself actually kind of…enjoying this. When her body kissed Wesley's, it didn't just feel like they were being possessed or something. It actually felt right, and she somehow knew that even if they weren't possessed (which had to be obviously what was happening) and had kissed, she would never want to stop kissing him. Suddenly, by chance of a random possession, she was looking at Wesley through a whole new light, a light she'd never seen him in before. It was a good light, a bright light that opened up so many possibilities for their future together. You know, once this whole possession thing was over.

The kissing only seemed to intensify. Fred was pulling Wes's tux jacket off, and then going for the shirt. Things were being removed at an alarmingly fast pace.

Until randomly, the possession ended. It was such a shock, so sudden, that they both found themselves breathing heavily, unable to move, faces only mere inches apart from each other's.

"Wesley," Fred, the 'real-and-not-possessed' Fred, whispered.

Wes originally would've jumped up in embarrassment, unable to look at Fred. It was an embarrassing situation, really, about to sleep with a close friend because of a possession, even if he was in love with her. But there was a certain way she said his name that just told him things were different, were never going to be the same.

With enough bravery to astonish even himself, Wes leaned down and lightly pressed his lips against Fred's. Their first actual kiss.

It was amazing. Fireworks, everywhere. He felt like he'd been waiting for this moment for so long. With a new hunger, a powerfully magnificent hunger, Fred kissed Wesley back, signifying the change of things to come.

Manipulation.

It wasn't hard, really, at least not for someone like himself.

See, the thing was, he wasn't an idiot. No, no, no, far from it. He was a demon, one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world. He was Cyvus Vail, and did Angel and his ragtag group of freaks really think he wouldn't see through the scheme? Oh, Angel thought he was so smart, signing the contract so he wouldn't Shanshu and everything, but Vail was smarter.

That was why he'd anticipated the end. Illyria was going to kill him. So, he'd created a backup plan, just as any genius sorcerer would do, correct?

The origins of Giselle were no secrets to him or anyone, really. Plus, they'd all heard about the spirits in there who wanted to finish out their little role or whatever. Before Wesley or Illyria could arrive, he simply did a spell that would alter a few things, changing the course of the Fang Gang forever. A spell that would be put in place at the sign of Vail's death.

Manipulation. It was nearly impossible when trying to manipulate something that happened in the past, but not impossible when it involved a total of four spirits who were lovers and deserved better. Including the silly ballerina and her secret lover, but also including Wesley and Fred themselves. All it took for Vail was to manipulate their spirits to switch places momentarily through a fabrication of time, when they needed to be. A scene that was created that never happened between the two, but was a fantasy created in one of Wes's dreams when mourning the loss of Fred because he wanted to save her so badly, was placed in their spirits. And like magic, it'd happened, just as planned. Wes and Fred, possessed by their future dead spirit selves, and not even knowing it. But that didn't really matter. All that mattered was because of that night, because of Vail's manipulation, nothing would be the same. That, in the end, benefitted him, because it meant he wouldn't die in the future. But it was still up in the air about how things would turn out for Angel and his team after this new change. Whether they would change for better or for worse, even Vail didn't know, and he certainly wasn't planning on finding out.