Summary: Fred gets an eating disorder and the guys don't know how to deal. Set in LA beginning of Angel season 5, but eventually in Sunnydale.

Disclaimer: (unfortunately) I don't own any of the Angel or Buffy characters, so don't sue me...cuz I got nuthin...

Set in early Angel season 5 a little after they gained control of Wolfram and Hart.

She waited impatiently as the scale determined once again that day her weight. 106 pounds, sure it was less than last week, but not good enough, she scolded herself and made a mental note she would exercise twice as much later.

It wouldn't make much of a difference though, because she would never be good enough. She would never be thin enough. Not until you could see every last bone on her body.

But it wasn't really about the weight, she had always been thin, and she was happy with the way she looked, was.

It was about the control, something she felt she had lost all of in her life. So she couldn't stop now, that wouldn't make sense. She had to do this; she had to prove to herself that she could still control something in her life.

She looked in the floor length mirror that stood in her room. The average person would see a 5'8 extremely emaciated woman, with dark circles under her eyes, thin hair, and pale skin; and that person would see that this woman needs help.

But Fred saw all that and more. She saw a monster; she saw imperfections on every inch of her body. Whether it be too much fat on her hips and thighs, or that her arms weren't slender enough. The list went on and on. But she still continued with her ways, why?

Because she could.

She could get thin enough; she could harness that missing control in her life. And she could do it all right in front of her friends, without them even knowing about it.

That was the part she loved the most. That she was so good at it, that no one had noticed what was going on. They would ask if she was okay occasionally when she would refuse a doughnut or coffee, but she had mastered the lying. She would say she already ate or she would get something later. And they would believe her.

Even Lorne, he was supposed to be some sort of mind reader, and he couldn't even tell. And that alone made her feel better than any food could.

She weighed herself again, still 106. She scolded herself yet again and got dressed. A light brown tank top and white floor length skirt.

One last look in the mirror revealed bared boney shoulders, sunken in collar bone and arms as thin as forks.

But to her she looked like a cow, and not the Pylean slave kind, the real kind.

And now to face her friends again...

If you want me to continue then pleeeeease review. It may be a little out of character but I enjoyed writing it and I would like to do a second chapter asap.

Hope you like it. ;-)