Illyria lies. It is as much a part of her as her black heart, her irreverence for humanity and her desire to draw pain. It is woven into the crude fabric of this fragile fabric that encompasses her, and when Wesley asks if there are any memories of the Fred that was, she takes no pleasure in the falsehoods that stain her lips.
There are moments when she see things, people she does not know laughing in a corner, or knowledge she did not before possess. Memories come unbidden, halting time and forcing her perspective on them; these she files away, remembering them for the person who no longer can. Perhaps they will be useful someday, though she doubts it entirely.
Wesley asks her if there is anything remaining of the Fred that was, and Illyria lies. She remembers the vampire as he was, the dimension Fred that was inhabited, the proper way to apply syrup to pancakes. She remembers flesh pressed to hot flesh, the fevered movement of two bodies against each other. She does not know what to do with these images, for they mean nothing to her. She takes no joy in hiding something Wesley would hold dear from him; it is simply how Illyria is.
She is asked if Fred that was still inhabits this body, and she lies, but she sees what must have been a year ago--linear time still causes her mind to stumble--where another of these beings, red-haired and unsure, reaches over Fred that was to take a bowl and remove its contents to a pan. Fajitas: the word comes unbidden to the forefront of her mind, and that is what Fred that was and this human are making. They are fixing dinner, Fred that was whispers to her softly, and dancing easily around each other in the kitchen.
Illyria watches with Fred that was standing next to her, watching herself slip past the girl (Willow) with a shy smile, and Fred that was sighs and says she wishes this had gone somewhere. But the Fred that was in this memory only stands a little closer to Willow in the oversized kitchen, chopping peppers and adding them to a pan as well. They laugh and talk about something, physics and magic and the little spells these humans are so proud of for accomplishing.
As Illyria become more disinterested in the scene that is determined to unfold before her, the Fred that was gasps a little as Willow leans over suddenly to place a small kiss on the lips of the Fred beside her. That Fred smiles softly, and this Fred smiles sadly. This Fred turns to her, Illyria that is now, and says she always regretted not doing anything more. Regret is such a bitter word.
The memory freezes and slowly fades away, leaving Wesley with a book standing before her. Illyria cocks her head slightly, remembering the distortion of three identical bodies coexisting in the same space of time. It should not happen, of course, but it seems that the world that is now allows its rules to be bent to the point of breaking, without suffering the condequences.
Wesley asks if she has remembered something, and she answers always no.
words © SA. characters, show, and people not mine. no infringement is intended.