"Was that what you needed?" He stared at face of Winnifred Burkle, and spoke to the person who was definitely not Fred behind it. It was worse when she looked like Fred. He wanted her to change back, be blue. "It was most informative." Her naïve features, were sharp yet still all powerful. "Good. Don't ever do it again." Her features morphed, and she became a brilliant blue. Her eyes glazed over with something that would easily compare to ice, and the cotton on her dress melted away, replacing itself with the red combat suit so often bore by Illyria, the king of gods, or whatever. He stared at her for a moment, and while aware of his glance, she didn't return it, instead choosing to stare at the elevator doors that had closed just moments after the shell's parents had departed.
She walked into the middle of the Wolfram and Hart lobby, and turned her head around, looking left and right like a child under a fish tank. Illyria was a puzzle to all of them. Each of them had a piece, but the puzzle had missing pieces, practically scattered across the metaphorical floor. She morphed to Fred again, and walked over to Wesley, touching her arms. "Seeing you like this, it-it sickens me." "Oh dear lord we both know that's not true" He looked pained like he had been stabbed in the gut. They were unaware of Fred's two parents bursting through the elevator door again in the very same lobby, just minutes after they left. They watched as 'Fred' ran her arms over Wesley's shoulder. "Glad to see she finally found herself a decent boyfriend." They watched as their daughter and Wesley walked into the ancient relics room. "Let's give em' some space."
The room was dark, and he sat in silence, completely taken over by sleep. The dreary silence echoed through the humble walls, and the shadow of the sleeping man in the dramatic chair bellowed over any light that dared to enter the space. In his dreams it was light. The original inhabitant of the body that had now been two minds, was sitting next to him. He knew he made noise when he slept, that was what made Illyria curious to know what love is. She stood over him, the darkness more appealing to her than the light. His breathing was the only sound in the room. He opened his eyes but didn't try to move at all. He gripped the sides of the armchair and stared at the wall opposite him. "You were dreaming about her again." Her voice took Fred's shape. "You're not her, be anything be blue, just don't be her." She tilted her head up and turned blue. It took them only seconds to uncover a presence in the room, one that meant bad things, for what little happiness evil law firms still had left.
Trish and Rodger Burkle stood at the door of the office very confused as their daughter turned into a leather clad blue demonic looking sort of thing. "W-what?" Wesley stared back at them in despair. Why don't you go see Angel, he thought. He got up and walked out of the room without a second glance. He had some things to deal with.