Disclaimer: Since my name is not Joss Whedon, 'Angel' and all the characters associated with the show belong to someone who isn't me. I also don't own the storyline - that's taken from gidgetgirl's 'Twice The Trouble' Challenge, posted on the Chocolate Covered Strawberries Challenge Archive.

'Twice The Trouble' Challenge

A Fred Throwback. In season five of Angel, Illyria's attempt to takeover Fred's body is thwarted by the Powers that Be, and the result is that, when Illyria enters Fred's body, the body splits in half: into two identical little girls, save one has blue hair. The Angel gang has to keep little Illyria (if that's her name...) from taking over the world, and take care of little Fred. You take it from there.

Requirements:

The evil one must have blue hair.

Harmony must make an appearance in the fic.

Both Gunn and Wes must babysit... one of the girls must like each of them better than the other

Author's Note I: To gidgetgirl – Thanks for your nickname suggestion a few chapters ago. I've adapted it a bit to suit my twisted, demonic purposes.

Author's Note II: To Imzadi – Having a timeout, trashing the office, then sulking. And I'm afraid there'll be no Lindsey in this story. I really can't think of a reason they'll want him back within the next chapter or two.

Author's note III: To Freezyboncoolipants – I know, neither could I, but he had to do something to discipline her and I couldn't think of much else.

Author's Note IV: Apologies to anyone who is reading 'The Happiest Place On Earth'. I know it's been ages since I updated. I've had a bit of writer's block as far as that story is concerned. Once the holidays start I should be able to finish it.

Words in = Thoughts.

Chapter 11.

Half past nine, the next morning, Angel's office.

"So," Angel gave his friend a wry grin. "Which one do you want?"

The green-skinned Pylean looked decidedly disgruntled. "Do I have to?"

"Yes." Angel's voice was firm.

"Doesn't Wesley want to do it?" Lorne asked hopefully. "He's wonderful with Freddikins. He could take her, you could take Baby Blue and I could enjoy a nice brunch with Gwynth."

"Sorry." The dark haired vampire didn't look or sound even slightly remorseful. "Wes has barely eaten or slept since Fred . . .you know. If he isn't taking care of her, he's researching. I sent him home for the day. He's not allowed back in the building until he's ha some rest."

Lorne utilized a Pylean expletive hitherto reserved for his mother. "You're a cruel man, Angelcakes, a very cruel man."

"Hey!" Angel was mildly insulted. "I am giving you first choice here."

Lorme glanced across the room, where the two little girls were sitting on the couch, looking through picture books, identically dressed in pink gingham sundresses – Harmony didn't seem to have bought anything that wasn't pastel, frilly or both – completely indistinguishable to his discerning eye.

Angel followed his friend's gaze. "So, do you want the one on the right or the one on the left?"

Lorne glared at him. "Ever think about dressing them in different outfits, strudel?"

Angel looked sheepish. "Well, they seem to like dressing alike and Harmony bought two of everything so . . ." He trailed off. "I've tried getting them to change. Illyria screams, Fred cries, it's not worth the trouble. You have to pick your battles." He finished solemnly, sounding more like a general planning field tactics than a temporary guardian of two little girls. "Now stop stalling and pick one." He ordered, amused by Lorne's procrastination.

Lorne studied the solemn faces of the two little girls, trying and failing to find a gesture or a facial expression that would tell him who the good one was.

/Although, after yesterday, I think that we've just got two bad ones. / He reflected mournfully. After another moments deliberation, he pointed to the child on the right. "I'll take Door Number One, chief." /It's a fifty-fifty shot. /

"Congratulations." Angel's smile was positively devilish. "You've just won an ancient demon goddess."

Lorne's face fell. "No, wait, I've changed my mind . . ."

"Too late." Angel motioned Illyria over. "Have fun."

"But I . . ."

Before Lorne could argue any further, he found himself ushered out of Angel's office with little Illyria, and the door was shut firmly behind them.

"So," He looked down at his new charge, apprehension in his eyes. "Do you like singing?"

The look the child goddess gave him was one of pure, unmitigated disgust.

Twenty minutes later.

The mild punishment Angel had inflicted the previous day had proven to be effective.

Motivated by the threat of further corner time if she misbehaved, little Fred was acting like a model child.

In the four year old's sage opinion, time spent in the corner meditating on her sins was the vilest thing imaginable. Her mind was so active that every minute she spent without occupation seemed to drag on for an hour.

It was torture and, in her opinion, it just wasn't worth it.

While Fred worked on designing a cover for her revised book of fairytales, Angel ploughed his way through his far less pleasant tasks, pausing every now and again to smile fondly at the little girl.

He missed the adult Fred. She had been the first person to truly accept him and he would always love her for that but, as painful as losing her was, he was beginning to enjoy having her child self around.

/I must be going soft. / Angel thought with a rueful chuckle.

Lorne's office.

After growing up in the bosom of his 'loving' family, Lorne was no stranger to uncomfortable silences.

That didn't mean, however, that he enjoyed them.

Illyria, fully occupied with a child's picture encyclopaedia, determined to learn everything she could about humans, despite her less than stellar reading ability, had not said two words since they had settled down in his office.

Lorne was rather put out by her pointed ignoring of him.

He had no desire to sit around playing Candyland and dress-up – well, maybe he wanted to a little – but some small acknowledgement of his presence would have been nice.

/I bet Angel's having more fun than me. /

Angel's office.

"HARMONY!" Angel bellowed at the top of his lungs.

Little Fred covered her ears, giving Angel a plaintive look. "Too loud."

"Sorry, sweetheart." The term of endearment slipped out unconsciously. "It's just . . . Harmony." He glared at his secretary as she scuttled into his office. He stabbed the computer screen detailing his schedule with an accusing finger. "Why do I have a meeting scheduled with the heads of the five branches of the Krat'ma'hen clan scheduled for ten o'clock today? You told me that that meeting was on the seventeenth. Tomorrow."

"Today is the sev . . ." Quailing under Angel's glare, Harmony hurriedly counted out the dates on her fingers. She bit her lip, embarrassed. "Oopsy."

"Wonderful." Angel scowled. "What am I supposed to do about . . .?" He nodded in Fred's direction. "Gunn's in court all morning, Wesley's at home, Lorne already has Illyria, you have to take notes for the meeting. That just leaves . . ." Angel's face fell. He sighed in defeat. "Harmony, I need you to make a call."

"No bloody way!"

"Spike, you know I wouldn't ask if there was any possible alternative."

The blond vampire threw up his hands in exasperation. "I've got plans, Captain Brood. Important, ungetoutofable plans."

"Bring her with you."

"Why don't you keep her with you?" Spike demanded. "I've got a . . .a meeting."

"So have I." Angel's voice was grim. "I'm meeting with the five branch heads of the Krat'ma'hen clan, very powerful, not to mention frightening demons who are highly likely to mistake her for a canapé." He scowled at his grandchilde. "Are you?"

"No, but. . ."

"Good." Angel scooped Fred up and passed her into Spike's unwilling arms. "Don't let anything happen to her." He leaned forward to plant a kiss on the top of the little girl's head. Be a good girl for Spike." He paused, reconsidering. "Well, you don't have to be . . .Just go!" He chivvied Spike out of his office, closing the door behind him so that he could skim through the files on the Krat'ma'hen clan in the five minutes left before his guests were due to arrive.

Spike was left standing out in the hallway, little Fred in his arms, caught on the horns of a dilemma.

Should he abandon his biggest winning streak in the past decade, forfeiting his winnings to date if he didn't return, or should he risk scarring his small charger for life by letting her sit in on a game.

/On second thoughts, / Spike mused. /The little bit's seen plenty of weird stuff in the past couple of days. My buddies won't even make her blink. /

"So," He said aloud. "You're good with numbers, right?"

Five minutes later.

"Uh-uh."

"Fred!"

"I don't wanna!"

"I'm your sitter, pet, you have to mind me." Spike reminded her firmly.

"I won't." Fred crossed her arms across her chest stubbornly.

"You're asking for a smacked backside, missy!"

"You won't." Fred responded tranquilly, not put out in the least by Spike's empty threat. It hadn't taken her long to figure out that Spike's bark was worse than his bite.

"Come on, luv," Spike wheedled. "I'll be unhappy if you don't."

Fred shook her head firmly, unmoved by his emotional blackmail.

"How about a compromise?" Spike suggested, remembering Wesley's success during what the adult members of the Fang Gang had termed the 'taco incident'. "You come with me for an hour, them I play dollies or whatever you want for an hour."

"Half an hour for your game." The four year old bargained shrewdly. "Then two hours of mine." She set her chin determinedly. "Take it or leave it."

"Fine." Spike said gratefully, holding out his hand. "Time for me to give you a crash course in poker."

Fifteen minutes later.

"Spike." Little Fred tugged impatiently on the vampire's shirt.

Spike sighed. "What's up, luv?"

"Thumper's sad."

Spike looked over at the grey, furry demon whose long ears had earned him his less than flattering nickname. His face was completely devoid of expression.

"No he's not."

"Yes he is." Fred hissed insistently. "His cards aren't as nice to him as yours."

Spike glanced up to see 'Thumper's poker face falter for the briefest of instants. He grinned. "Call." He displayed his hand with a flourish. "Read 'em and weep, boys."

'Thumper' growled and the brown demon Fred had named 'Bambi' bared his teeth threateningly.

"You never said you were upping the stakes." He complained in a slightly gravelly voice, watching the little girl with covetous eyes and baring his pointed teeth.

Spike scowled at him. "Back off, you wanker! The little bit's not up for grabs."

"Spike?" Fred shot him a curious look. "What's a wanker?"

Spike correctly guessed that Angel and his friends would be less than pleased if he taught their miniature friend to curse.

"A wanker's a very nice person, pet." He lied. He smiled happily as he gathered together his mewing winnings.

The little girl had her uses after all.

An hour and a half later.

Spike was beginning to regret using the phrase 'whatever you want' in his agreement with Fred.

After several rounds of Candyland, little Fred had decided that she wanted to play 'House' with him, which, as four year old's games went, wasn't the worst.

He could have borne it, except for his role . . .

"Here's your bottle." Fred shoved a doll's bottle she had charmed one of the mail guys into filling with warm milk into his mouth. "Drink up, then you can take your nap."

Even without seeing his reflection, he knew that, between the ridiculously small bonnet she had balanced on his head and the tea towel tied around his neck for a bib, he looked absurd as he sat on the miniature chair as his 'mommy', wearing a large fuchsia straw hat and a long string of pearls, tried to spoon feed him.

"Do I have to be the baby, pet? Can't I be the daddy?"

"No." Fred looked appalled at the idea. "That's Wesley's job."

"Wesley isn't here."

"Doesn't matter." Little Fred told him solemnly. "Wesley has to be the daddy 'cause I'm gonna marry him when I grow up."

Spike couldn't argue with that. He took a swig from the bottle, making a face. Even when he had been human, warm milk had been pretty far down on his list of favourite drinks. He waited until his 'mother's back was turned before topping up the bottle with liquid from his hip flask.

He sipped gingerly before taking a long swallow.

/It's not half bad, really. /

"Now," Fred beamed at him as she came back to the table with a plate of unidentifiable mush. She scooped up a generous spoonful and waved it around in front of his face. "Here comes the aeroplane."

Spike, seeing no alternative, obediently opened his mouth.

From the doorway, unnoticed by either the vampire or the child, Angel watched, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Are you getting all of this?" He asked sotto voce, giving his secretary a conspiratorial wink.

Harmony nodded in satisfaction, clutching the camcorder tightly.

Spike was going to freak!

Half past eight that night, Angel's office.

Wesley, after swearing that he had had eight hours sleep and a good meal, was allowed upstairs to say goodnight to little Fred, mostly because she had stubbornly refused to go to bed until he had read her a story.

While Wesley sat on the couch, reading to little Fred, who sat on his lap, and little Illyria, who hovered to the side, doing her best to look uninterested and Lorne unwound with a Sea breeze, Angel tried once again to persuade Giles to let him talk to Willow.

The Watcher had staunchly refused to listen to Angel's arguments or pleading and had hung up, as he always did after a couple of minutes.

Spike, thrilled over his winnings and ever so slightly tipsy after half a dozen bottles of whiskey and milk, sauntered into the office with a grin on his face.

"What do you want, Spike?" Angel asked curtly, still ticked off with Giles.

"Aren't you just a regular little Mary Sunshine?" Spike gave him a sarcastic smirk. "Got a present for the little love, seeing as she helped me win it."

Before any of the adults could stop him, Spike tipped his gift into Fred's lap.

The four year old scooped up the black bundle of fur with an ecstatic smile. "A kitten!" She flung her arms around Spike's neck, hugging him tightly. "Thank you!" She turned to Wesley with a pleading expression. "Can I keep her?"

"It's a him, pet." Spike was enjoying the discomfort in Angel and Wesley's faces. "So can she, Percy?"

Wesley couldn't say no.

"What are you going to call him?" Angel asked, trying to hide his apprehension at having another small mess creator roaming the building.

Fred clutched her new pet to her, beaming up at its donor. "Wanker."

As one, Angel, Wesley and Lorne turned to glare at the less than contrite Spike.

The blond vampire grinned.

He doubted that he would ever have to babysit again.

An hour and a half later.

Angel waited until the two little girls were in bed and asleep before he called a council of war.

Looking around at the faces of Wesley, Gunn, Lorne, Spike and Harmony, he sighed deeply.

"We need to make some long term plans, guys." He spoke in a low voice. "Fred and Illyria have been here for nearly a week and we're no closer to finding a solution than we were the day they arrived. Giles was pretty adamant about nobody from Sunnydale coming to help and even with our Wolfram and Hart resources, we haven't made any progress. We need to figure out what to do with the girls. If we have to, we can contain Illyria, but Fred is another matter. Should we contact the Burkles, let them decide, maybe send her back to Texas with them?"

"We can't." Wesley's voice was firm. "My contacts have already intercepted several kidnap threats against both girls, some from Illyria's worshippers, a couple from people interested in them as a collector's item." Wesley's expression registered his disgust. "A demon psychiatrist is offering an eight figure reward for anyone who delivers the girls to him to study. We won't be able to protect Fred if she leaves."

"Are you suggesting we raise Fred and Illyria here?" Gunn was incredulous.

Spike snorted in derision. "In that case, we'll need Mary Bleedin' Poppins."

"No you don't." A familiar and very welcome voice drew their attention to the doorway, where two young women were standing. Willow grinned, delighted with the impact her entrance had had. "I think you need a witch."

TBC.