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: This is going to be the last chapter of 'Two Of A Kind'. Writing it has been fun and I hope reading has too. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed this story and a special thank you to gidgetgirl, for thinking up the challenge and to my beta, Botticelli's Venus.

Author's Note II: For those of you reading 'The Happiest Place On Earth', there is one chapter to go and I'll have that up as soon as it's written.

Author's Note III: To gidgetgirl – I think a story about Harmony and little Illyria would be fun to read. Maybe after the season finale the Senior Partners could punish Illyria by turning her into a child and make Harmony take care of her. I'd get a kick out of Harmony and little Illyria saving the world. Maybe someone could throw a challenge together.

Chapter 14.

An aeroplane, somewhere in the sky, the next evening.

Illyria groaned as her stomach lurched and it's contents spewed forth into the paper bag Willow had given her.

"It's not fair!" The pint-sized deity moaned, glaring at Fred, who was half asleep in Wesley's arms. "If I am sick, Winifred should be sick too. Why isn't she?"

"Because she didn't refuse to take the travel sickness tablets we gave her, insisting that we were trying to poison her." Wesley pointed out dryly.

"Are you sure that you don't want to reconsider?" Willow asked temptingly, holding out the pink, teddy bear shaped tablet.

Deciding that putting an end to the unpleasant experience of vomiting was worth a small sacrifice of pride, little Illyria grudgingly accepted the tablet, popping it into her mouth eagerly.

"Mmm." Her eyes lit up with genuine childlike enthusiasm. "Strawberry."

An hour later.

"Did we have to bring the cat?" Angel groused for the umpteenth time, glaring at Wanker, who was happily occupying his time by sharpening his claws – much to the detriment of the seat he was using as a scratching post.

"Yes." Little Fred's tone brooked no argument. "If we'd left Wanker at the office, he'd have been lonely."

"I could have lived with th . . . No! Bad cat! Bad!"

Wanker looked up at the vampire with an innocent 'who, me?' expression, not at all self conscious or ashamed about the yellow puddle he had 'improved' the carpet of the plane with.

"Don't yell at Wanker!" Fred exclaimed, scooping her insulted pet into her arms. "It's not his fault he has accidents. He's just a baby. 'Sides," The four year old pointed out logically. "There's no litter tray on the plane."

"Sorry, sweetheart." Angel smiled at the little girl. I'm not really mad at Wanker. It's just . . ."

"You're scared." Fred finished for him. "That something will go wrong with the spell." She gave him a sunny smile. "Don't be. You have to have happily ever after in fairytales. That's the rule."

"We can't argue with that." Wesley spoke with more optimism than he felt.

"It'll work." Willow said in a low voice.

Wesley gave her a wan smile, his eyes never leaving little Fred. "I hope so."

/I can't lose her again. /

Half an hour later.

"Are we there yet?"

"Not yet, Fred."

"Are we there yet?"

"Illyria, didn't you hear me tell Fred . . ."

"Are we there yet?"

"Fred, you just asked me!"

"That was nearly ten seconds ago. We've moved since then. Are we there yet?"

"Not . . ."

"Are we there yet?"

"Girls!" Gunn glared at the two angelic looking little girls. "I will tell you when we get there." He glared at the smirking and decidedly unangelic looking Spike. "You just had to teach them that game, didn't you?"

The blond vampire grinned impudently. "Are we there yet?"

Two and a half hours later, the Deeper Well.

"Is this it?" Fred wrinkled her nose at the knarled tree trunk.

"This is it." For her sake, Wesley tried to sound cheerful.

"Oh." Fred frowned. "I thought it'd be a castle."

"It is the Deeper Well."

After her first glimpse of the tall, robed figure carrying a lit flame torch, Fred ducked behind Wesley's leg, shyly avoiding the newcomer.

Illyria, on the other hand, met Drogyn's gaze fearlessly.

"My jailer."

"Old one." Drogyn inclined his head slightly. "You have returned. Of your own will?"

"Yes." Illyria glared at him. "This world was not what I expected, not what I wanted. I expect that situation to be rectified before I return."

"Alright, let's get this show on the road." Willow interrupted. "My spell needs to take place at midnight if it's to work. And I'm sure Illyria's dying to get back to the Deeper Well."

The little goddess nodded eagerly.

"Very well." With a wave of his hand, Drogyn opened the gateway to the Deeper Well, the tomb and prison of countless old ones.

Moving in single file, little Illyria, Angel, Gunn, Lorne, Spike, Willow and Faith followed Drogyn through the doorway.

"Wesley," Little Fred's voice was soft. "I'm scared."

Wesley scooped her up in his arms, rubbing her back gently. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"No." She shook her head decisively. "We have to try." She looked up at him with beseeching eyes. "Will you stay with me?"

He kissed the top of her head. "I'll be right there."

"The ritual will take only moments." Drogyn spoke quietly, but confidently as he scattered some kind of sand over a brazier. "If you are ready. . ."

"I am." Illyria stood next to the flaming brazier.

"Me too." Although she did not sound anywhere near as self-assured as her counterpart, little Fred didn't falter as she took her place next to Illyria.

Drogyn took a deep breath, concentrating all of his energies on his right hand where a purplish crystal Wesley recognized as having come from Illyria's sarcophagus was slowly forming.

The Guardian of the Deeper Well chanted in a strange language not even Wesley recognized, the flames of the brazier licking higher and higher as he spoke the ritual words.

His pupils were jet black as he turned towards the six adults.

"I advise you to step away." His tone was fierce.

They hastened to obey.

Finishing his incantation, Drogyn stepped as far away from the brazier as he dared and, hefting the crystal in his hand, dashed it into the flames.

The force of the blast was enough to knock him off his feet, although the two little girls stood unmoving in it's wake.

The dark cave was completely illuminated by the blue flames, which increased in intensity until the seven adults had to shield their eyes to avoid being blinded.

A scream of pain and triumph echoed through the cave, growing louder and louder as it resonated through the chamber and all the way through the earth to the other side, announcing to the slumbering, trapped demons that one of their fold was returning.

Then, as quickly as it happened, it was over.

"Fred!" Wesley darted forward to catch the prone body of the woman he loved in his arms. "She's as cold as ice!" He desperately checked for breathing and a pulse, any sign of life. "She's dead." Even though he had been preparing himself for this since he had heard Willow's plan, no, since he had learned that Illyria had infected his beloved – had it really only been a week ago? – the pain he felt saying this was greater than any he had ever felt.

"Get out of my way, Wesley."

Willow knelt next to the other woman's corpse, her eyes turning a liquid black as her spell called forth the most forbidden of magicks, calling on the powers that governed the universe to, for once, cut them a break.

"It's not working." Icy tears rolled down Angel's cheeks as the spell progressed with no sign of progress.

From his arms, Wanker mewed unhappily, not understanding what was happening.

Scarcely noticing what he was doing, Angel stroked the kitten's fur, wanting to offer some comfort to the distressed animal.

"Give her time." Spike insisted. "She's done this before. Once."

Wesley watched, too numb to cry or speak as the red haired witch expended every ounce of energy she possessed in a last, desperate shot at reviving her friend.

"It's too late." His voice was hoarse. "She's gone."

Willow looked up at him, her dark eyes a sparkling white, her expression one of gentleness and compassion.

Her skin shimmered as she gently placed her hands on Fred's forehead and over her heart.

An ethereally beautiful song filled the confines of the cave, bringing tears not only to Lorne's eyes, but to the eyes of everyone who heard it.

The being he knew was not Willow looked up at Wesley with an expression of pure empathy and love.

/You have been given a gift in your love. / The sweet voice resonated through his head. /Do not give up on it. Ever. /

Willow's eyes returned to their normal shade as the force possessing her departed. Exhausted, she lay on the floor of the cave, breathing heavily.

"Wesley?" Fred's choking call was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

"I'm here, my love." Gently pulling her into his arms, Wesley leaned forward, kissing her gently. "I'll always be here."

"I told you . . ." Fred's breathing was laboured. "I told you we'd get 'happily ever after'."

THE END.

Author's Note: Well, that's all folks. Please forgive the corny ending. After what happened on the show, I couldn't bear not to have a happy ending. I hope you liked it.