(A/N): Ok. I was shooting for just a one-shot fic with what Fred affectionately called just "Her boys" but apparently people wanted at least Illyria to be included so here's another chapter. Still, I'm glad that I could give Illyria her own chapter. And in dedication to Fred it's a Dixie Chicks song. Not that I listen to them. Which made them harder to find the song. I wouldn't blame you if you just ignored it, actually... Just wanted to match up the song fic motif. Plus, if you notice how Illyria's thoughts become a little...modern...it's part of the story, I mean, Fred's thoughts are slowly pushing through the surface. -

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

*

"She is

I am

*

What really makes a person? Obviously it isn't the body. And the soul is only a fraction of the equation. No, there is also the mind. The memories one acquires as they live and experience whatever fate has had in store for them. Take, for example, a vampire. They rape, torture and commit awful atrocities against mankind for centuries. It doesn't matter if they go out and get themselves a soul, they still remember. It's the memories that shape us into the people... demons, we are. That must be why it's so hard to differentiate between myself and this shell...Fred.

*

She is mean . . . but

No one believes

She hates . . . But

No one believes

She is rude . . . but

No one believes

*

I need Wesley to show me through this world. Help me understand these feelings that were hers. Because even though I've never been in these halls, I've seen them through her eyes. And even if I've never had a decent conversation with any of these inferior beings, I still feel like I know them and would do anything to protect them. These...primal urges ... Useless, and entirely too human. And I know that the ONLY reason I am experiencing this hell is because of her. The consequences of planting myself in a mortal body. It comes with a mortal toil...

*

She is our mean and innocent because: No one believes

*

No one has a problem believing I'm evil. As they should, one of the first demons to roam this world. But every so often they see the same innocence they connected with this face. And maybe they should. I don't know how long it will be before I fall into the same mannerisms as her... But just out of memory.

*

She cusses . . . but

No one believes

She hates me . . . but

No one believes

She is a smoker . . . but

No one believes

*

There isn't much to do around this...place of work. Usually, I try to stay out of everyone's way. Don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I try to pass the time looking through some of Fred's old files. I used some of my time to look up some of my...her friends. The most intriguing file is on Spike. William the Bloody has killed two slayers in his lifetime and loved another. It seems that even before a soul he started fighting evil.

All for the love of a woman.

So is a soul really all that important. I am eons older than this half- breed yet he seems so much more...evolved. At least by today's standards. As if something kept him human even after is turning. He is a complete contradiction to his race, letting his emotions control his actions. He should have never been able to feel emotions! Just like I shouldn't be feeling them right now.

*

She's is gonna be our dangerr...

*

What makes so me dangerous is not my past but my future. Her memories brace me for this world as if I was a newborn taking her first steps. I've been imprisoned at least five epochs yet I still know all of these utterly human references. Will it really be that hard for me to adjust to this world? Each passing day I remember more, feel more.

*

I'm an angel . . . but

No one believes

I'm nice . . . but

No one believes

I'm truthful . . . but

No one believes

*

The other day I held the elevator door for a former friend. She looked young and bubbly, like she just stepped out of that little talking box. What do they call it? Uh...a TV, I believe. It took a while for me to remember her name, I felt more than recognized her as a friend.

Harmony.

That's her name. Another half breed. She looked just as surprised as I felt, that I had cared enough to hold it for her. I tried to brush it off as just a reflex but sometimes I seriously doubt that this is the case. That's another human emotion. Doubt. For one's self-esteem to be low as to second-guess one's self.

*

So gonna commit her suicide because: no one believed herr.

*

I'll never forget the first time I confronted Wes for his help. His words continue to eat at me. He's asking me to commit myself to something I'd never follow as a demon. He wants me to believe in hope. Nope is not a faith that the damned usually can confide in.

Unless said demon has a soul.

Or is an enigma like Spike. Or, apparently, is one of the minority demons that aren't interested in carnage. Damn. Everything is soooooo complicated. In my day all you had to do was kill a demon, eat his kin, rape and disgrace whatever name it had made for itself and take a step up the bad ass ladder. When did things get so... weird?

*

I'm sweet . . . but

No one believes

I'm loveable . . . but

No one believes

I care . . . but

No one has ever will never believe

*

I've finally flipped. I found myself giggling earlier today. It was something Spike said about Angel knocking him unconscious with one head butt and the reason being because of the truckloads of gel that he uses in his hair. It wasn't any funnier than any of the other insults he hurls at his grandsire, but it just slipped out. Once again, he looked just as surprised as Harmony had and I felt but he had this ghost of a smirk on his face. It was enough to make me almost blush. The keyword being almost.

Goodness, I'm waaaay too old for crushes.

*

She is gonna be in jail all because no one believes her soul

Life is about loving, but peoples are not caring,

All they do is worry, worry bout themselves and never the else

*

I'm not going to lie and say that they never see Fred when they look at me. But when they do they chose to ignore me rather than agitate. Which is great, it means they still fear me. Sometimes I hear Wesley and Angel fighting over me in what few would consider "hushed voices." The whole building could hear them and I have to resist the urge not to try and shrink away. Another one of Fred's quirks which I now call, "Fredantics."

That's another thing. I've adopted. The use of the various types of humor, including dry wit and sarcasm. What the hell, I've been plagued with irony ever since I awoke in Fred.

*

She is mean . . . but

No one believes

She is hateful . . . but

No one believes

Our lives will always be our danger from herr

*

The memories that I was able to show a different Fred. The one apart from the loveable sidekick she inevitably became in the little superhero gang. The one apart from the geeky, A+ daughter of a farmer and his wife. One that was prepared to kill the professor who sent her to a hell dimension.

The one who could get severely bitchy if given the chance. I can relate to that. Her anger. That's part of the power of hate. It can connect people. But say one little about their sweet little martyr and they get all pissy. They know the crystal-pristine image they create for Fred is a lie but they'd rather live in denial. Just like when they allow them to see her in me.

*

I'm an angel . . . but

No one believes

I'm loveable . . . but

No one believes

She is an angel that's trapped deep inside

And she needs to get out

*

One positive side to having the memories of such a brilliant mind is that I've been able to classify my emotions. I'm thinking of it as a more demonic R.E.M disorder.

Especially since the other day I found myself looking at Wesley's lower...assets. It was mortifying. He actually caught me! Still, he did do this cute little thing where he blushes and his eyes grow wide and he gets all jittery... Dammit, I sound like a teenaged schoolgirl! My thoughts don't even sound like my own anymore. Defiled by Fred's own knowledge of ...slang! Urgh...It's so damn frustrating.

*

But just what about meehee

Why don't you people ever believe that others suicide

Ohohohoho yeaheh WHY CAN'T YOU SEE JUST WHAT ABOUT

MEEHEE

*

I can't really tell the difference between the two of us. We'll eventually meld together and create a whole new person, demon, whatever. It's been a long time since I've been unsure about anything because to be unsure about something you have to care. But I guess that's what it means to be a part of this world. It doesn't matter if you have a soul or not, if you eat food or drink blood or even if you have horns or fangs. Wesley was right but seeing as Fred is a child of the computer age, only seeing it on TV helped it to sink it.

"Hope. It is coincidentally the source of our greatest strength and our greatest weakness."

The Architect said it in The Matrix: Reloaded. Yeah, big surprise that the dork in Fred would like that movie. Well, I guess I gotta admit it wasn't too horrible... Maybe we could convince Wes to watch it with us.

*

She is danger but I am an angel

I am an angel that's trapped deep down inside tell I find the one

The one that I loveve They never will think, never will think

It will come or it will be released because I am I'm a,

DREAMING FEARIE

*

I still detest the Dixie Chicks but their music feels calming. Something else she likes. I'd never tell anybody this but sometimes I take out Mr. Feignbaum and listen to Landslide. I was one of the most feared and reviled demons of my time. My peers tremble in fear at the mere mention of my name and had an army to follow my every whim. Now I listen to the Dixie Chicks with a stuffed bunny on my lap.

It's sickening! Every once in a while I find myself having to control dry heaves. But every usually, I feel the joy of having something familiar, even if I've never experienced have of the things I seem to hold dear. And every once in a while, I Fred's memories kicked in and I hear joyous laughter. It's so warm that I close my eyes and try to concentrate on the sound.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

R&R Please

(A/n): Ok. This is pretty weird.