Matrimony

 

HARKER :

You're a Monster. 

DRACULA :

And you're a Lawyer!

Nobody's Perfect.

(turns to the dying Bride he just murdered)

Ah, A Stake through The Heart.

You see, sometimes 

The Legends are right.

This is not one you can 

test too often, though.

I only ever have three 

brides at a time.

HARKER:

"Brides"?

DRACULA :

Brides, yes. 

I think that's 

The Right Word for it.

You see, um...

[ • ahem • ] ....I am 

trying to reproduce...

 

...which, frankly, 

can be a bit of 

A Challenge when 

There is Only 

One of You.

[English] The Master Scene - [The Wedding]

The Master :

Would you scrub yourself 

and make yourself clean.

My Daughter is 

getting married.

Come and join us —

Leave your worries for a while.

They'll still be there

when you get back.

And your memories 

aren't invited.

Stand wherever you like.

Good day, good day, 

good day, good day.

What a day. What a day.

Mama.

Rascal.

Clark, big day?

Big day indeed, sir.

How are you feeling?

I feel pretty well, thank you. How are you?

Wonderful.

As long as you 

hold these bodies,

in this life, you will 

be Man and Wife.

You may kiss the bride.

Master :

Marriage!

Previous to The Cause 

was awful.... Awful --

It was a cycle, 

like Life.

Birth, excitement, 

growth, decay, death.

Now... now...

...how about this?

Here it comes... 

a large dragon.

Teeth...

...blood dripping, 

red eyes. 

What do I got?

A lasso. I whip it up.

I wrap it around 

its neck, and I wrestle,

wrestle, wrestle him 

to the ground.

I snap up. I say, 

"Sit, Dragon." 

Dragon sits.

I say "Stay." 

Dragon stays.

Now it's got a leash on it.

I take it for a walk.

And that's where 

we're at with it now.

It stays on command.

Next we're going to teach it 

to roll over and 

play dead.

Love that story.

So, where are you from?

Huh? 

Where are you from?

Lynn, Massachusetts.

Freddie Quell, how do you do?

I'm Val. I'm his son.

Oh, yeah, I see it.

So what kind of Work 

will you be doing?

- Not sure.

Done any Time Hole work?

- Any what?

Any Time Hole work?

I don't think so. I don't know what that is.

I'm sure you're going to love it. - I hope so.

- Nice to meet you and welcome aboard. - Looking forward to it.

- How long have you known him? - Good night!

- About three years. - Good night, good night, good night.

Thank you, thank you for being here.

- Norman... - Three years?

Thank you.

- Good night, Master.

 Good night.(turns to Freddie --)

When can we have some 

more of your potion?

Whenever you like, 

I'll make it.

When I like it, I'll 

give you a signal.

I'll rub my nose 

and scratch my ear.

What will you need?

I'll take care of it.

Good.

Anything you need.

Thank you, good night.

Good night, everyone.

Don't get up. Don't get up.

I love you. I love you, too.

What a day.

We fought against the day 

and we won. We won.

Freddie, feel free 

to sit with us.

Can you invite him over?

Say, come on over.

Can you say hi?

He's... been 

writing all night.

You seem to inspire 

something in him.

Yeah?

Mm.

When we're at 

Home, on land,there's 

too much pulling 

him in each direction.

Every time he sits 

to write, a new attack 

is launched against him, and 

he spends too much time 

defending himself.

Who's attacking him?

People who are scared.

People who 

are greedy.

Ex-wives. Hugs.

That's what's so nice 

about being at sea.

He gets his 

studies done.

Hm.

Advances The Learning. 

He writes Book Two.

Currently codenamed,

euphamistically as either,

Book Two, or 

The Second Book —

Renfield Walked with Dracula — and Dracula TOOK Him

Dr. Seward’s Diary.

1 October.—I am puzzled afresh about Renfield. His moods change so rapidly that I find it difficult to keep touch of them, and as they always mean something more than his own well-being, they form a more than interesting study. This morning, when I went to see him after his repulse of Van Helsing, his manner was that of a man commanding destiny. He was, in fact, commanding destiny—subjectively. He did not really care for any of the things of mere earth; he was in the clouds and looked down on all the weaknesses and wants of us poor mortals. I thought I would improve the occasion and learn something, so I asked him:—

“What about the flies these times?” He smiled on me in quite a superior sort of way—such a smile as would have become the face of Malvolio—as he answered me:—

“The fly, my dear sir, has one striking feature; its wings are typical of the aërial powers of the psychic faculties. The ancients did well when they typified the soul as a butterfly!”

I thought I would push his analogy to its utmost logically, so I said quickly:—

“Oh, it is a soul you are after now, is it?” His madness foiled his reason, and a puzzled look spread over his face as, shaking his head with a decision which I had but seldom seen in him, he said:—

“Oh, no, oh no! I want no souls. Life is all I want.” Here he brightened up; “I am pretty indifferent about it at present. Life is all right; I have all I want. You must get a new patient, doctor, if you wish to study zoöphagy!”

This puzzled me a little, so I drew him on:—

“Then you command life; you are a god, I suppose?” He smiled with an ineffably benign superiority.

“Oh no! Far be it from me to arrogate to myself the attributes of the Deity. I am not even concerned in His especially spiritual doings. If I may state my intellectual position I am, so far as concerns things purely terrestrial, somewhat in the position which Enoch occupied spiritually!” This was a poser to me. I could not at the moment recall Enoch’s appositeness; so I had to ask a simple question, though I felt that by so doing I was lowering myself in the eyes of the lunatic:—

“And why with Enoch?”

“Because he walked with God.” I could not see the analogy, but did not like to admit it; so I harked back to what he had denied:—

“So you don’t care about life and you don’t want souls. Why not?” I put my question quickly and somewhat sternly, on purpose to disconcert him. The effort succeeded; for an instant he unconsciously relapsed into his old servile manner, bent low before me, and actually fawned upon me as he replied:—

“I don’t want any souls, indeed, indeed! I don’t. I couldn’t use them if I had them; they would be no manner of use to me. I couldn’t eat them or——” He suddenly stopped and the old cunning look spread over his face, like a wind-sweep on the surface of the water. “And doctor, as to life, what is it after all? When you’ve got all you require, and you know that you will never want, that is all. I have friends—good friends—like you, Dr. Seward”; this was said with a leer of inexpressible cunning. “I know that I shall never lack the means of life!”

I think that through the cloudiness of his insanity he saw some antagonism in me, for he at once fell back on the last refuge of such as he—a dogged silence. After a short time I saw that for the present it was useless to speak to him. He was sulky, and so I came away.

Later in the day he sent for me. Ordinarily I would not have come without special reason, but just at present I am so interested in him that I would gladly make an effort. Besides, I am glad to have anything to help to pass the time. Harker is out, following up clues; and so are Lord Godalming and Quincey. Van Helsing sits in my study poring over the record prepared by the Harkers; he seems to think that by accurate knowledge of all details he will light upon some clue. He does not wish to be disturbed in the work, without cause. I would have taken him with me to see the patient, only I thought that after his last repulse he might not care to go again. There was also another reason: Renfield might not speak so freely before a third person as when he and I were alone.

I found him sitting out in the middle of the floor on his stool, a pose which is generally indicative of some mental energy on his part. When I came in, he said at once, as though the question had been waiting on his lips:—

“What about souls?” It was evident then that my surmise had been correct. Unconscious cerebration was doing its work, even with the lunatic. I determined to have the matter out.“What about them yourself?” I asked. He did not reply for a moment but looked all round him, and up and down, as though he expected to find some inspiration for an answer.

“I don’t want any souls!” he said in a feeble, apologetic way. The matter seemed preying on his mind, and so I determined to use it—to “be cruel only to be kind.” So I said:—

“You like life, and you want life?”

“Oh yes! but that is all right; you needn’t worry about that!”

“But,” I asked, “how are we to get the life without getting the soul also?” This seemed to puzzle him, so I followed it up:—

“A nice time you’ll have some time when you’re flying out there, with the souls of thousands of flies and spiders and birds and cats buzzing and twittering and miauing all round you. You’ve got their lives, you know, and you must put up with their souls!” Something seemed to affect his imagination, for he put his fingers to his ears and shut his eyes, screwing them up tightly just as a small boy does when his face is being soaped. There was something pathetic in it that touched me; it also gave me a lesson, for it seemed that before me was a child—only a child, though the features were worn, and the stubble on the jaws was white. It was evident that he was undergoing some process of mental disturbance, and, knowing how his past moods had interpreted things seemingly foreign to himself, I thought I would enter into his mind as well as I could and go with him. The first step was to restore confidence, so I asked him, speaking pretty loud so that he would hear me through his closed ears:—

“Would you like some sugar to get your flies round again?” He seemed to wake up all at once, and shook his head. With a laugh he replied:—

“Not much! flies are poor things, after all!” After a pause he added, “But I don’t want their souls buzzing round me, all the same.”

“Or spiders?” I went on.

“Blow spiders! What’s the use of spiders? There isn’t anything in them to eat or”—he stopped suddenly, as though reminded of a forbidden topic.

“So, so!” I thought to myself, “this is the second time he has suddenly stopped at the word ‘drink’; what does it mean?” Renfield seemed himself aware of having made a lapse, for he hurried on, as though to distract my attention from it:—

“I don’t take any stock at all in such matters. ‘Rats and mice and such small deer,’ as Shakespeare has it, ‘chicken-feed of the larder’ they might be called. I’m past all that sort of nonsense. You might as well ask a man to eat molecules with a pair of chop-sticks, as to try to interest me about the lesser carnivora, when I know of what is before me.”

“I see,” I said. “You want big things that you can make your teeth meet in? How would you like to breakfast on elephant?”

“What ridiculous nonsense you are talking!” He was getting too wide awake, so I thought I would press him hard. “I wonder,” I said reflectively, “what an elephant’s soul is like!”

The effect I desired was obtained, for he at once fell from his high-horse and became a child again.

“I don’t want an elephant’s soul, or any soul at all!” he said. For a few moments he sat despondently. Suddenly he jumped to his feet, with his eyes blazing and all the signs of intense cerebral excitement. “To hell with you and your souls!” he shouted. “Why do you plague me about souls? Haven’t I got enough to worry, and pain, and distract me already, without thinking of souls!” He looked so hostile that I thought he was in for another homicidal fit, so I blew my whistle. The instant, however, that I did so he became calm, and said apologetically:—

“Forgive me, Doctor; I forgot myself. You do not need any help. I am so worried in my mind that I am apt to be irritable. If you only knew the problem I have to face, and that I am working out, you would pity, and tolerate, and pardon me. Pray do not put me in a strait-waistcoat. I want to think and I cannot think freely when my body is confined. I am sure you will understand!” He had evidently self-control; so when the attendants came I told them not to mind, and they withdrew. Renfield watched them go; when the door was closed he said, with considerable dignity and sweetness:—

“Dr. Seward, you have been very considerate towards me. Believe me that I am very, very grateful to you!” I thought it well to leave him in this mood, and so I came away. There is certainly something to ponder over in this man’s state. Several points seem to make what the American interviewer calls “a story,” if one could only get them in proper order. Here they are:—

Will not mention “drinking.”

Fears the thought of being burdened with the “soul” of anything.

Has no dread of wanting “life” in the future.

Despises the meaner forms of life altogether, though he dreads being haunted by their souls.

Logically all these things point one way! he has assurance of some kind that he will acquire some higher life. He dreads the consequence—the burden of a soul. Then it is a human life he looks to!

And the assurance—?

Merciful God! the Count has been to him, and there is some new scheme of terror afoot!

 

Later.—I went after my round to Van Helsing and told him my suspicion. He grew very grave; and, after thinking the matter over for a while asked me to take him to Renfield. I did so. As we came to the door we heard the lunatic within singing gaily, as he used to do in the time which now seems so long ago. When we entered we saw with amazement that he had spread out his sugar as of old; the flies, lethargic with the autumn, were beginning to buzz into the room. We tried to make him talk of the subject of our previous conversation, but he would not attend. He went on with his singing, just as though we had not been present. He had got a scrap of paper and was folding it into a note-book. We had to come away as ignorant as we went in.

His is a curious case indeed; we must watch him to-night.

Letter, Mitchell, Sons and Candy to Lord Godalming.

“1 October.

“My Lord,

“We are at all times only too happy to meet your wishes. We beg, with regard to the desire of your Lordship, expressed by Mr. Harker on your behalf, to supply the following information concerning the sale and purchase of No. 347, Piccadilly. The original vendors are the executors of the late Mr. Archibald Winter-Suffield. The purchaser is a foreign nobleman, Count de Ville, who effected the purchase himself paying the purchase money in notes ‘over the counter,’ if your Lordship will pardon us using so vulgar an expression. Beyond this we know nothing whatever of him.

“We are, my Lord,
“Your Lordship’s humble servants,
“Mitchell, Sons & Candy.”

Dr. Seward’s Diary.

2 October.—I placed a man in the corridor last night, and told him to make an accurate note of any sound he might hear from Renfield’s room, and gave him instructions that if there should be anything strange he was to call me. After dinner, when we had all gathered round the fire in the study—Mrs. Harker having gone to bed—we discussed the attempts and discoveries of the day. Harker was the only one who had any result, and we are in great hopes that his clue may be an important one.

Before going to bed I went round to the patient’s room and looked in through the observation trap. He was sleeping soundly, and his heart rose and fell with regular respiration.

This morning the man on duty reported to me that a little after midnight he was restless and kept saying his prayers somewhat loudly. I asked him if that was all; he replied that it was all he heard. There was something about his manner so suspicious that I asked him point blank if he had been asleep. He denied sleep, but admitted to having “dozed” for a while. It is too bad that men cannot be trusted unless they are watched.

To-day Harker is out following up his clue, and Art and Quincey are looking after horses. Godalming thinks that it will be well to have horses always in readiness, for when we get the information which we seek there will be no time to lose. We must sterilise all the imported earth between sunrise and sunset; we shall thus catch the Count at his weakest, and without a refuge to fly to. Van Helsing is off to the British Museum looking up some authorities on ancient medicine. The old physicians took account of things which their followers do not accept, and the Professor is searching for witch and demon cures which may be useful to us later.

I sometimes think we must be all mad and that we shall wake to sanity in strait-waistcoats.

 

Later.—We have met again. We seem at last to be on the track, and our work of to-morrow may be the beginning of the end. I wonder if Renfield’s quiet has anything to do with this. His moods have so followed the doings of the Count, that the coming destruction of the monster may be carried to him in some subtle way. If we could only get some hint as to what passed in his mind, between the time of my argument with him to-day and his resumption of fly-catching, it might afford us a valuable clue. He is now seemingly quiet for a spell.... Is he?—— That wild yell seemed to come from his room....

 

The attendant came bursting into my room and told me that Renfield had somehow met with some accident. He had heard him yell; and when he went to him found him lying on his face on the floor, all covered with blood. I must go at once....

Becoming

Cut to Doyle and Cordy 

drinking at a bar. 

Cordy: 

Well, this is working out nicely! 

I'm out of a job.

Doyle: 

Hey! It's not just you, you know?

Cordy: 

Oh, please. Who are you kidding? 

You're glad it happened.

Doyle: 

Hey, I'm glad for Angel, 

but if that means I'm off the hook with the Powers-That-Be as well, all the better. 

I'm finally free to go out in The World 

and make me own mark in The World.

Cordy: 

We had a cat that used to do that. 

(Puts her head down on the bar) 

Oh god, what am I going to do? 

I'm good for exactly two things : 

International Superstardom, or 

Helping a Vampire with a Soul to rid The World of Evil. 

That makes for a short but - colorful resume.

Doyle: 

Well, what ever happens form here on out, 

at least I will be able to say good-bye to them 

bone-crushing, head-wrenching, 

mind-numbing visions.

His head hits the bar as we cut to blurred pictures of the Mohra demon attacking Angel. 

Cordy: 

What do you see?

Doyle: 

We got Trouble.

Angelus: 

Everything That I am, 

Everything that I have done, 

Has led me Here. 

Cut to 

Manhattan, 

1996. 

A bum steps up to a trashcan and begins to go through it. 

A man walks past him and on down the street. 

Having found nothing, the bum makes his way into an alley with slow, labored steps. 

A boy runs past him with a package and disappears further down the alley. 

The bum, tired and weak, staggers into a concrete post at the side of the alley and stops. 

He coughs and rolls around to lean with his back against the post, and it's Angel, tired, filthy and unkempt. 

He just breathes for a moment, and then smells something. 

He searches the alley with his eyes and spots a rat scampering across to the other side. 

He takes a couple of unsteady steps, brushes the hair from his face and begins to stalk the rat. 

It reaches the other side and disappears into a pile of trashcans and bags. 

Angel dives after it, scattering the cans and bags noisily, but loses the rat. 

A man comes into the alley behind him. 

Angel rolls over to sit and flails his arms at the trashcans in anger over missing the rat. 

The man comes up to him. 

Whistler: 

God, are you disgusting. 

Angel calms down a bit and looks around himself. 

Whistler: 

This is really an unforgettable smell. 

This is the Stench of Death you're giving off here!

And the look says, uh... 

Crazy Homeless Guy. 

It's Not Good. 

Angel: (angrily) 

Get away from me. 

Whistler: 

What are you gonna do, bite me? 

(gasps and jumps back) 

Horrors! A vampire! 

Angel looks at him in surprise. 

Whistler: 

Ah, but you wouldn't bite me on account of your poor, tortured soul. 

It's so sad, a vampire with a soul. 

It's so poignant. 

Angel: (confused) 

Who are you? 

Whistler: 

Let's take a walk. 

Cut to a ways down the street. 

The two of them walk along the sidewalk for a few paces and then turn into the street to cross to the hotdog stand on the other side. 

Angel isn't paying any attention to the traffic, so Whistler grabs his arm to stop him. 

Whistler: 

What are you eating? 

(they continue across) 

Like, a rat once a month? 

Angel strays and almost walks into another car. 

Whistler grabs him again and pulls him back in time. 

Whistler: 

Hey! 

(car honks, they continue) 

Look, you're skin and bones here! 

Butcher shops are throwing away more blood in a day than you could stand. 

Good blood. 

(they reach the far side) 

You lived in The World a little bit, you'd know that. 

Angel: 

I wanna know who you are. 

(stops) 

Whistler: 

(stops and faces him) 

And I wanna know Who *You* Are. 

Angel: 

You already do. 

Whistler: 

Not yet. 

But I'm looking to find out. 

'Cause you could go either way here. 

Angel: 

I don't understand you. 

Whistler: 

Nobody understands me. 

That's my curse. 

(chuckles) 

He steps over to the street vendor and pulls out some cash. 

Whistler: 

Dog me. Mustard. 

He watches the vendor get out the hotdog and squirt on some mustard. 

Whistler: (to Angel) 

My name's Whistler. 

Vendor: 

Here you go. 

Whistler: 

(takes the dog) 

Thanks. 

(hands over a bill, turns to Angel) 

Anyway, lately it is. 

(takes a bite) Mm. 

Angel: (looks down) 

You're not a vampire. 

Whistler: 

A demon... technically. 

I mean, I'm not a bad guy. 

Not all demons are dedicated to the destruction of all life. 

Angel: (looks at him) 

Whadaya mean, I can go either way? 

Whistler: 

I mean, that you can become an even more useless rodent than you already are, 

or you can become someone. 

A person. 

Someone to be counted. 

Angel: 

I just wanna be left alone. 

(starts away) 

Whistler: 

Well, yeah, you've been left alone for, what, ninety years already. 

(Angel turns back) 

And what a package you are. 

The Stink Guy! 

Angel: 

What do you want from me? 

Whistler: 

I want you to see something. 

He gives Angel an intense look. 

Angel just looks at him. 

Whistler: 

We'd have to leave now. 

You see, and then you tell me what you wanna do. 

Angel: 

Where is it? 

Cut to 

Hemery High School in Los Angeles, 

1996. 

School is over for the day, and the students come streaming out. 

An old, rusted Chevy Impala with its windows spray-painted black pulls up on the far side of the street. 

The driver's window lowers, and Angel squints out into the daylight, careful to remain in shadow. 

He looks over at the building and sees Buffy come down the steps with three of her friends. 

Buffy: 

So I'm like, 'Dad, do you want me to go to the dance in an outfit I've already worn? 

Why do you hate me?' 

Girl#1: 

Is Tyler taking you? 

Buffy: 

Where were you when I got over Tyler? 

He's of the past. 

(Angel watches her) 

Tyler would have to crawl on his hands and knees to get me to go to the dance with him. 

Which, actually, he's supposed to do after practice, so I'm gonna wait. 

Girl#1: 

Okay. See ya later. 

Girl#2: 

Bye! 

Buffy:

(waves to Girl#1) 

Call me! 

Girl#1: Okay! Buffy: (waves to Girl#2) Call me! (waves to Girl#3) Call me! Girl#3: I will! 

Buffy climbs back up a few steps and looks around. 

She takes off her jacket and sits down to wait for Tyler. 

She lays the jacket across her legs and idly looks around again. 

A man in a black suit approaches her. 

He is her first Watcher, who has finally found her. 

Watcher: 

Buffy Summers? 

Buffy: 

(looks at him) 

Yeah? (smiles) 

Hi! (confused) What? 

Watcher: 

I need to speak with you. 

Buffy: (worried) 

You're not from Bullock's, are you? 

'Cause I-I meant to pay for that lipstick. 

Watcher: 

There isn't much time. 

You must come with me. 

Your Destiny awaits. 

Buffy: 

(confused, shakes her head) 

I don't have a Destiny. 

(nods) 

I'm Destiny-free, really. 

Watcher: 

(seriously) 

Yes, you have. 

You are The Chosen One. 

You alone can stop them. 

Buffy: 

Who? 

Watcher: 

The Vampires. 

Buffy: 

(considers for a moment) 

Huh? 

Cut to a cemetery. 

Buffy lands flat on her back. 

Buffy: 

Oof! 

A vampire props himself over her, growling menacingly. 

She is very frightened, and looks around frantically for what to do. 

Angel watches from behind some gravestones. 

Buffy spots her stake, but can't reach it, so she just gets her hands underneath the vampire and pushes him off. 

He flies off of her and lands hard on his back. 

Buffy: 

Oh, God... 

She rolls onto her hands and knees and scrambles on all fours to retrieve her stake. 

Buffy: 

Oh, God... Oh... 

Oh, God... Unh! 

She grabs the stake and quickly gets to her feet. 

She looks at it, unsure of what to do next. 

The vampire gets up and lunges at her. 

Reflexively she grabs him, sidesteps him and sends him flipping over to the ground again, dazed. 

She looks at the vampire, amazed by what she just did. 

She glances back at the Watcher, down at her stake and then makes her move to dispatch the vampire. 

She quickly gets to her knees, raises the stake above her head and plunges it into him, but gets him in the gut instead of the chest. 

Buffy: 

Oh! Not the heart! 

Angel watches, concerned.

 

Buffy plunges the stake into the vampire again, and this time hits her mark. 

An instant later the vampire bursts into ashes. 

Buffy is caught by surprise, and she screams and jumps back, landing on her butt. 

She just stares at the ashes on the grass in wide- eyed shock. 

Behind her the Watcher steps up. 

Watcher: 

You see? 

You see Your Power? 

Buffy isn't at all sure she wants to see. 

Angel continues to watch. 

Cut to Buffy's house in L.A. 

The camera looks into her room from outside. 

Buffy comes in with her mother close behind. 

Joyce: 

Why didn't you call? 

Buffy: 

(faces her mom) 

I'm sorry. I-I didn't know it was so late. 

Tyler and I were talking. 

Joyce: (exhales) 

That boy is irresponsible. 

Buffy: 

No, mom. It's not his fault. 

(takes off her jacket) 

Joyce: 

You know we worry, that's all. 

They look at each other for a moment, and Joyce shrugs. 

Joyce: 

Dinner's in ten minutes. 

(leaves) 

Buffy: (whispers) 

Yeah. 

She goes through the other door into her bathroom. 

The camera pans from the bedroom window over to the bathroom window. 

She turns on the water to wash up from the cemetery. 

Her parents talk in the hall, and she can hear as it escalates into an argument. 

Hank: 

Did she say where she was? 

Joyce: 

She was with Tyler. 

Hank: 

I don't want her seeing him anymore, period! 

Angel looks in at her from outside. 

Joyce: 

You're overreacting, dear. 

Buffy looks at herself in the mirror sadly.

 

The tears begin to come. 

Hank: 

Don't do that! 

Don't talk to me like I'm a kid! 

Joyce: 

I don't! Just forget it! 

Angel continues to watch and listen. 

Hank: 

Just because you can't discipline her, 

I have to be the ogre! 

Buffy keeps on staring into the mirror. 

Joyce: 

I am not having this conversation again! Alright? 

Buffy looks down and tries hard not to cry. 

Cut to the sewers. 

Angel arrives where Whistler is waiting for him. 

Whistler: 

She's gonna have it tough, that Slayer. 

She's just a kid. 

The World's full of Big, Bad Things. 

Angel: 

I wanna help her. 

(Whistler looks at him)

 I want... 

I wanna become someone. 

Whistler: 

God, jeez, look at you. 

She must be prettier than the last Slayer. 

(Angel looks away) 

This isn't gonna be easy. 

The more you live in This World, the more you see how apart from it you really are. 

(sternly) 

And this is Dangerous Work. 

Right now, you couldn't go three rounds with a fruit fly! 

Angel: (with resolve) 

I wanna learn from you. 

Whistler: 

Alright. 

Angel: 

But I don't wanna dress like you. 

(starts to leave) 

Whistler: (follows) 

Again, you're annoying me. 

You're lucky we need you on our side.

"Los Angeles. You see it at night and it shines. 

Like a beacon. People are drawn to it. 

People and Other Things. 

They come for all sorts of reasons. 

My reason? No surprise there. 

It started with A Girl..."

Angel sits at a bar, playing with a glass sitting in front of him. 

He appears to be slightly drunk.

[ He isn't. This is Performative Guise, and he is hunting. ]

Angel: 

She was a really, really pretty girl. 

No she, she was a hottie girl. 

She, she had - I mean - her hair was... You know?

You kind of remind me of her. 

He is talking to an unamused big, bald black man at the bar.

Because, because – you know – the hair. I mean – the hair.

He looks over at the guy sitting beside him. It is a burly black guy with a clean-shaven head. Angel turns his head and glances over his shoulder at a group of three guys and two girls playing pool behind him.

One of the guys comes and leans on the bar next to Angel and says to bartender: 

We want to cash out.

Angel looks up at him with a drunken grin: 

Girls are nice.

Laughs.

The guy gives him a disgusted look.

Bartender: 

Here you go.

Guy to the others: 

Okay, guys, let’s go. Let’s go find some real fun.

The five pool players leave and Angel straightens up in his chair. After a beat he gets up no longer laughing and follows them out.

Cut to Alleyway beside the bar:

Blond girl:

You guys really know the doorman? 

I mean you can get us into the Lido?

1.Guy: 

I don’t wanna to go clubbing anymore. 

I want to party, right here. 

Grabs the girl.

1.Girl: 

Hey back off!" 

(pushes him away)

2.vamp grabs 2.girl.

1.vamp grabs 1.girl by the throat: 

Shut up and die!

(vamps out)

Angel walks up apparently drunk: 

Excuse me. ‘scuse me. I’m sorry. 

But has anybody seen my car? 

It’s big , and it’s shiny.

1.vamp: 

Piss off, pal!

Angel walks up to him and leans in to get a closer look at his face. 1.vamp growls at him. 

Angel leans back: 

Uhh, breath mint?

1.vamp throws the girl into some trashcans and swings at Angel. 

Angel blocks, knocks him down, spins around to knock the 2.vamp running up in the face, then kicks out at the first vamp just getting back up. 

3.vamp tackles Angel to the ground, but Angel catapults him over his head and gets back up. 

Sees two vamps charging him from opposite sides. 

Triggers the stakes concealed in spring-loaded wrist sheathes under his sleeves and stakes both at the same time. 

They dust.

1.vamp comes up and hits him over the head with a trashcan. Angel drops to the ground.

Angel (in vamp face): 

You shouldn’t have done that.

Gets up, hits 1.vamp in the stomach then throws him. 1.vamp spins in the air and lands on top of a car’s windshield cracking it.

Cut to the two girls watching, looking scared. 1.girl is bleeding from a cut on her forehead.

1.girl: 

Oh, my god! They were…

Angel with his back turned to them: 

Go Home.

1.girl steps closer: 

Thank you.

Angel spins around and she looks shocked at his vamp face. He stares at her bleeding cut. 

Stay away from me.

The girls back off. 

Angel stalks down the alley looking disgusted. 

Breaking a slat from a wooden crate he stakes the vamp still lying on the car’s hood without even looking. 

The girls watch him leave.

Intro.

Angel walks down a street. Enters an office Building. Walks down a couple steps and through one of the offices on the ground floor and gets into an elevator. Pulls the metal grating closed, the elevator goes down.

Cut to angel getting out of the elevator, takes off his coat as he walks into the apartment. Undoes the empty wrist sheathes, steps over to a weapons cabinet, takes off his shirt (has a black muscle shirt on under it, sorry ladies) and drops it over the back of a sofa. Then freezes and looks over his shoulder at:

Doyle: 

I like the place. I mean it’s not much with the view, 

but it has a nice bat-cave sort of an air to it.

Angel: 

Who are you?

Doyle playing with a deck of cards in his hands: 

Doyle.

Angel turns around: 

You don’t smell human.

Doyle: 

Now that’s a bit rude. 

So happens that I am very much human.

Sneezes and blue spikes pop out all over his face.

On My Mother’s side.

Shakes his head and the spikes disappear.

Doyle walks past Angel: 

Well, I come in uninvited, 

so you know I’m not a vampire like yourself.

Angel: 

What do you want?

Doyle: 

I’ve been sent – 

By The Powers That Be.

Angel: 

The Powers That Be what? 

Doyle: 

Let me tell you a little bedtime story.

Angel: 

But I’m not sleepy.

Doyle: 

Once upon a time there was a vampire. 

And he was the meanest vampire in all the land. 

(Flashback to Angel in vamp face biting Daniel, biting a girl) 

All the other vampires were afraid of him, he was such a - bastard. 

Then one day he’s cursed – by gypsies. 

(Flashback to old gypsy lady speaking the curse) 

They restore his Human Soul.

 

And all of a sudden he is mad with guilt. 

You know: ‘What have I done?’

You know, he’s freaked.

Angel sits down on the sofa: 

Okay. Now I’m sleepy.

Doyle: 

Yeah, well, it’s a fairly dull tale. 

It needs a little sex, is my feeling. 

So sure enough: Enter The Girl. 

(Flash to scenes of Buffy) 

Pretty little blonde thing, (whistles) Vampire Slayer by trade. 

And our vampire falls madly in love with her. 

(Flash to Angel and Buffy kissing) 

Eventually the two of them - well, they get fleshy with one another. 

Well, I guess the technical term is 'Perfect Happiness'. 

But when our boy gets there, (Flash to dream sequence form Amends) he goes bad again. 

He kills again. It’s ugly. 

So when he gets his soul back for the second time, he figures hey, he can’t be any where near Miss Young Puppy Eyes without endangering them both. 

So what does he do? He takes off. 

(Flash to Angel walking away in G2) 

Goes to LA. 

(Doyle picks up a knife) 

To fight Evil - and atone for his crimes.

 

He’s a Shadow - 

A Faceless Champion of the hapless Human Race – 

Say you wouldn’t have a beer of any kind in here, would you?"

Angel: 

No.

Doyle: 

Come on, you must have something besides pig’s blood!

Angel get up off the sofa: 

Okay. You’ve told me The Story of My Life, 

which, since I was there, I already knew. 

....why aren’t I kicking you out...?

Doyle looks into the refrigerator that holds two bags of blood: 

Because now I’m going to tell you what happens next. 

You see this vampire, he thinks he’s helping. 

Fighting the demons. 

Staying away from the human’s so as not to be tempted. 

Doing penance in his little - cell. 

But he’s cut off. From everything. 

From the people he’s trying to help.

Angel: 

I still save ‘em.

Who cares if I don’t stop to chat.

Doyle: 

When was the last time you drank [human] blood?

Angel whispers: 

Buffy.

Doyle: 

Left you with a bit of a craving, didn’t it? 

Let me tell you something, pal, that craving is going to grow and one day soon, one of those helpless victims that you don’t really care about is going to look way too appetizing to turn down. 

And you’ll figure —

“Hey! what’s one against all I’ve saved? 

Might as well eat them. 

I’m still ahead by The Numbers!"

You know I’m parched from all this yakking, man. 

Let’s go treat me to a Billy Dee.

Cut to Angel and Doyle walking on the street.

Doyle carrying a bottle in a brown paper bag: 

It’s not all about fighting and gadgets and stuff. 

It’s about reaching out to people, showing them that there’s love and hope still left in the world.

Homeless lady comes up and asks him for some change.

Doyle (to lady): 

Get a job, you lazy sow. 

(to Angel) 

It’s about letting them into your heart. 

It’s not about saving lives; it’s about saving souls. 

Hey, possibly your own in the process.

Angel: 

I want to know who sent you.

Doyle: 

I’m honestly not sure. 

They don’t speak to me direct. I get - visions. 

Which is to say great splitting migraines that come with pictures. 

A name – a face. 

I don’t know who sends them. 

I just know Whoever Sends Them is more powerful than me or you, and They're just trying to make things Right.

Angel: 

Why Me?

Doyle: 

Because you’ve got Potential. 

And the balance sheet isn’t exactly in your favor.

Angel: 

Well why you?

Doyle: 

We all got something to atone f'r. 

(reaches into his pocket and pulls out a piece of paper) 

Had a vision this morning. 

When the blinding pain stopped I wrote this down.

Angel reads the paper -

TINA

COFFEE SPOT

Angel :

Tina.

Doyle: 

Nice looking girl, needs help.

Angel: 

Help with what?

Doyle: 

That’s Your Business. 

I just take The Names.

Angel: 

I don’t get it. How am I supposed to know…

Doyle: 

You’re supposed to get into Her Life, remember? 

Get involved. 

Look, High School’s over, boy. 

It’s time to make with the grown up talk.

Angel: 

Why would a woman I’ve never met even talk to me?"

Doyle laughs:

Have you looked into a mirror lately? (hesitates)

No, I guess you really haven’t, no."

Angel: 

I’m not good with People.

Doyle: 

Well that’s the whole point of this little exercise, isn’t it?

Are You Game? 

Cut to Angel walking through the sewers, subway noises in the background. 

He hears someone moaning. 

He quickly climbs up through a trap door just in front of the bed Tina is lying on. He grabs her and tries to wake her form her nightmare.

She grabs a hold of him while he tries to calm her down.

Tina: 

He was here.

Angel: 

I’m here.

 

Did your friend Denise have a tattoo on her left shoulder?"

Tina: 

She had a rose.

Angel: 

I think she *was* murdered. 

And there were others. 

He picks girls with no family, no one to care.

Tina pulls away from him.

Angel: 

Look you don’t have to be afraid. Your safe here.

Tina points over his shoulder at Doyle’s note laying on the sofa table: 

Why do you have that? 

You knew who I was when you walked in there last night?

Tina starts to pack her things.

Angel stands up: 

No, I didn’t. I just -

I had your name that’s all, all right? 

Look. It’s complicated.

Tina: 

Yeah, I’m sure. 

Big complicated game that Russell’s playing with my head. 

How much is he paying you?

Angel: 

He’s not.

Tina: 

You’re just like him. 

You stay away from me.

She runs out of the apartment.

She runs through the office to the doors leading out. 

Sun is shining through the windows in the doors.

As she leaves the office Angel grabs her arm.

Angel: 

Please, listen…

She tries to get away and pulls him towards the doors. 

Direct sunlight hits his arm and it goes up in flame. 

As Tina stares in horror Angel vamps out. 

She runs out the doors. Angel moves to follow but stops when he starts smoking again in the sunlight.

Cut to Tina’s apartment building. 

Tina is packing. She picks up a revolver from a drawer and spins around aiming it right at Russell.

Tina: 

Russell."

Russell: 

I’ve been looking everywhere for you. 

And here you are right under my nose. 

Oh, I own the building, most of the block. 

[ Which is probably how he can come in uninvited, and legally - it's his property. ]

[ It's a Full-Service Law Firm. ]

(smiles at her) 

Are you going to point that gun at me all day?

Tina: 

What did you do to Denise?

Russell: 

Nothing.

Tina: 

I want The Truth, Russell.

Russell: 

She wanted to go home, I bought her a ticket to Pensacola.

Tina: 

She’s dead.

Russell: 

What do you mean? She called me yesterday. 

She said she’s going back to school, 

she wanted me to pull some strings.

[ Highly Unlikely. ]

Russell: 

Look, we both know that I live outside of the box, 

but I don’t go around killing my friends!

[ You're not his friend, you're his lunch. ] 

If this is about LA. If you need rent. 

You know I only want to help you. 

Takes the gun from her.

Just tell me what you want.

Tina looks down, crying: 

I want to Go Home.

Russell smiling: 

Done.

Strokes her cheek as she cries.

Russell: 

Poor thing. Who’s been spinning your head like this?

Tina: 

I don’t know. I thought you hired him. 

He turned into something. 

It was the most horrible thing I’ve ever seen.

Russell vamps out: 

Well, you’re young.

Tina gasps in shock and he leans in to bite her.

Cut to Angel running up to her apartment. 

He opens the door and walks in to find her laying dead on the floor. 

He touches the bite marks on her neck then looks at the blood on his fingers.

Cut to the Coroners zipping Tina up in a body bag. 

Camera pulls back to reveal Angel watching the scene from a neighboring roof.

Cut to Angel steeping out of the elevator into his apartment.

Angel: 

The guy’ trying to take her at the party was called Stacy.

Doyle: 

First name or last?

Angel:

I don’t know. Professional muscle, probably done some time.

Doyle: 

I can ask around.

Angel grabs a phone book: 

Great. Start with the car. 

Grey ’87 Black Mercedes 300E, going to need some serious work on the bumper. 

Call the chop shops.

Doyle: 

I know a couple that ain’t in the book, too.

Angel: 

The guy in the car leads me to Stacy. 

Stacy leads me to Russell.

Doyle: 

You couldn’t have known she was going to run out on you like that.

Angel: 

Forget it. Let’s get to work.

Doyle: 

You can’t cut yourself off from…

Angel: 

Doyle, I don’t want to share my feelings, 

I don’t want to open up. 

I want to find Russell 

and I want to look him in the eye.

Doyle: 

Then what?

Angel: 

Then I’m going to share my feelings.

Cut to Russell’s huge white Mansion. 

There are dark suited security guys patrolling the premises and uniformed maids in the halls. 

Russell is watching a video tape of Margo’s party while listening to his lawyer’s report.

LINDSAY McDONALD : 

Mr. Winters, the Eltron merger is a go. 

They caved on everything after you negotiated with their CFO. 

[ I dread to think.... ]

We’ll bring the papers by your office tomorrow.

Russell is looking at pictures of Tina at the party:

She had something, didn’t she?

Tina smiles into the camera and waves.

Russell: 

I was sorry to kill her so soon.

LINDSAY McDONALD : 

Actually, you haven’t seen her in several week.  

(opens briefcase and takes out a paper) 

You were in a conference yesterday with your contract lawyers when the unfortunate incident occurred. 

And we’ve located a witness that is telling police that saw a dark complected man with blood on his hands fleeing the scene.

Russell: "Impressive."

Lawyer: "Wolfram&Hart is a full service law firm, Mr. Winters. It is our job - to see to it that our clients lives run more smoothly."

Russell sees a picture of Cordelia: "Who is this? (gets up) A fresh face. - I think we should meet."

Lawyer: "Should I alert the firm that this young lady may constitute another long-term investment?"

Russell: "I don’t think so. I just want something to eat."

Cut to Stacy’s Gym Supplies. Stacy is talking to a guy when the store window is shattered by a trashcan swung by angel.

Cut to Angel pushing Stacy down on a weight bench.

Angel: "Where does he live, how much security does he have?"

Stacy: "Listen Hot shot. What ever she was to you, you better forget it. You have no idea who you’re dealing with here."

Angel: 

Russell? Let me guess. 

Not big on the daylight and the mirrors? 

Drinks a lot of V-8?

Stacy: 

You get in his way, he’ll kill you. 

He’ll kill everyone you care about.

Angel: 

There is nobody left that I care about.

Cut to Cordelia’s apartment she is sitting in the Lotus position with her eyes closed.

Cordelia: 

I am somebody. I matter. 

People will be drawn to my positive energy 

and help me to achieve my goals. 

I am right where I am supposed to be 

(she falls forward to the bed face down) 

and not dying for something to eat!

The telephone rings. Cordy jumps up and grabs it.

Cordelia: 

Hello, Cordelia Chase.

Margo pouring herself a drink: 

Cor, it’s Margo. You were such a hit at my party last night.

Cordelia: 

Oh, thanks!

Margo: 

Guess who saw my videotape of the party and guess who wants to meet with you.

(pours out some pills)

Cordelia: 

A Director? A Manager? 

An assistant to an assistant who wants to spring for lunch?

Margo washing down the pills with her drink: 

Russell Winters.

Cordelia: 

The investment guy?

Margo: 

Oh, oh, Cordelia. He is a lot more than that. 

He helps people get started in their careers. 

And he wants to meet you – tonight.

Cordelia: 

Tonight?

Margo: 

He’ll send a Limo for you at 8.

Cut to Angel’s apartment. 

Angel is filling up a black bag with weapons.

Doyle: 

Wow, you’re really going to war here. - I guess you – ah - you’ve seen a few in your time, yeah?

Angel: 

14, not including Vietnam. 

They never declared it.

Cut to Cordelia riding in the Limo.

Cordelia: 

"People will be attracted to my positive energy and help me achieve my goals." Oh, yeah!

Limo drives through a big metal gate onto the grounds of Russell’s mansion.

Cut to Angel’s apartment.

Doyle: 

Well, listen, best of luck to you man. (slaps Angel’s shoulder) 

I’ve got some fairly large coin riding on the Vikings tonight, but I’ll be there with you in spirit, yeah?"

Angel: 

You’re driving.

Doyle: 

Now wait a minute. Nah-a, I’m not combat ready. 

I’m just The Messenger!

Angel throws him the weapons bag: 

And I’m The Message. 

Cut to Cordelia following a butler through Russell’s huge foyer. They enter one of the rooms.

Russell get up to greet her: 

I’m Russell. Thank you so much for coming. (to butler) that’ll be all Franklin. We’d like to be alone.

Cordelia: 

Wow, what a nice place. I love your curtains. 

Not afraid to emphasize the curtains.

Russell: 

Well, I have old fashioned tastes.

Cordelia: 

I grew up in a nice home. 

It wasn’t like this, but we did have a room or two that we didn’t even know what they were for – 

Until the IRS got all huffy about my folks not paying taxes for, well, ever. 

They took it all.

Russell: 

Margo tells me you’re an actress. 

It’s going well?"

Cordelia sits down: 

Oh… Yeah, it’s great! 

I’ve had a lot of opportunities. 

The hands in the liquid-gel commercial were almost mine, by one or two girls. 

And well… 

It’s not everything – I…

Cut to Angel’s convertible driving up to the gate. 

Angel gets out to talk to the guard throwing the keys to Doyle.

Angel: 

How’re you doing. I think we’re lost. 

We are looking for a Roscomere. 

What are you watching? 

Is that the game? (leans into the guard booth) The Vikings on?

Drops the guard with a hard right, then pulls the cable form the security camera pointing at the gate. 

Takes off his light jacket and shirt and throws them in the car. 

He’s dressed all in black now. 

Gets out his bag of weapons.

Angel: 

Tie him up. 

I’m out in ten minutes or I’m not coming out.

Cut to Cordelia.

Cordelia: 

I’ve tried really hard, you know.
Usually when I set out to achieve something I succeed at it, right away. 

But I… I don’t know anybody,
and I don’t really have any friends here.

Russell: 

Now you know me. You don’t have to worry anymore.

Cordelia looks down then back up at him: 

What do you want me to do?

Russell steps closer: 

Just tell me what you want.

Cordelia: 

Oh, god. I’m sorry! I’m getting all weepy in front of you. I probably look really scary. 

(gets up and looks around the room) 

I finally get invited to a nice place – with no mirrors, 

and lots of curtains… hey, you’re a vampire!

Russell: 

What? No, I’m not.

Cordelia: 

Are too!

Russell: 

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

Cordelia: 

Hey, I’m from Sunnydale. We had our own Hellmouth! 

I think I know a vampire when I’m - alone with him… 

In his fortress-like home. 

And you know, I think I’m just feeling a little light headed from hunger. 

I’m just wacky. And kidding! Ha, ha.

Cut to Angel setting an explosive charge with a 30 second timer on the fuse box.

Russell: 

Truth is, I’m glad you know. 

It means we can skip the formalities.

Russell vamps out and Cordelia turns to run.

Cut to Angel throwing a grappling hook up to the balcony. Cut to him jumping over the balcony railing.

Cut to Doyle sitting in the car, checking his watch.

Cut to Cordelia running up the white marble stairs.

Russell grabs her with a growl. Cut to the fuse box blowing. Cut to Russell looking up as the lights suddenly go out. He lets go of Cordy.

Angel: "Russell Winters."

Cordelia: "Angel?"

Angel slowly steps out of the dark at the end of the open landing: "I have a message for you – from Tina."

Russell: "You made a very big mistake coming here."

Cordelia: "You don’t know who he is, do you? Oh, boy! You are about to get your ass kicked!"

Angel pulls out a stake and attacks Russell. They are pretty evenly matched. After some back and forth Russell manages to throw Angel down.

Cordelia: "Angel?"

Angel looks up and sees to bodyguards with drawn guns charging up the stairs. He waits until they are all on the runner he is laying on the pulls it out form under all three of his opponents as he gets up.

Russell: "Kill them!"

Angel takes a shot in the chest then turns to pick up Cordelia. While more bullets hit him in the back he jumps over the banister to the floor below.

Cordelia: "Angel! Ah!"

They run out the front door.

Cut to Doyle jumping in his seat as he hears the gunshots.

Doyle: "That’s it. I’m gone!"

Backs out of the driveway and speeds down the road.

Doyle hits the steering wheel: "Come on. Damn it!"

Turns the car around and charges the gate, screaming and hitting the steering wheel. The car hits – and stops, the gate still closed.

Doyle: "It’s - a Good Gate.

Cut to Angel and Cordelia coming up to the car. Angel is hunched over; the front of the car is dented and steaming.

Doyle: 

You know, I’ve had a bit of an accident, but we’ll talk later…

Cordelia gets into the passenger seat while Angel falls into the back seat.

Cut to Angel’s apartment. 

Doyle is digging the bullet out of Angel’s chest.

Doyle: 

Got it!

Cordelia: 

Finally! I thought I was going to faint while barfing! Okay. (she dabs at the wound with a piece of gauze and Angel flinches) Sorry. So, it’s over, right? We’re going to be okay. You put the fear of god into that Russell guy. (tapes a piece of gauze over the bullets hole) He’s not going to come looking for me, right?"

They all just look at each other.

Cut to Russell Winters big corporate building. 

Cut to his office. He is sitting at the head of the table with about ten other guys in suits sitting around it.

LINDSAY McDONALD : 

The Eltron mutual trust binder is ready for your signature. 

As to the intruder that broke into your home last night, local authorities have no information on him. 

However we have several top private investigators…

(the doors burst open and Angel walks in) 

that are looking into his where-abouts.

Russell: 

I believe we’ve located him.

The Lawyer stand up and bars Angel’s way: 

I’m with Wolfram & Hart. 

(hands him a business card) 

Mr. Winters has never been accused and shall never be convicted of any crime – ever. 

Should you continue to harass our client, we will be forced to bring you into the light of day. 

(Angel walks past him looking at Winters) 

I place, I’m told, that isn’t all that healthy for you.

Russell: 

Angel - We do things a certain way here in LA.

Angel: 

Well, I’m new here.

Russell: 

But you’re A Civilised Man. 

We don’t have to go around attacking each other. 

Look at me: I pay my taxes. 

I keep my name out of the paper, 

and I don’t make waves. 

And in return -- I can do anything I want!

Angel puts one foot on the chair between Russell’s legs and leans forward: 

Really. 

Hmm. Can you fly....?

Pushes the chair backwards into the wall of windows behind Russell. 

Russell crashes through the window. 

He falls down screaming, catches fire and turns to dust.

Angel hears the scream cut off: 

Hmm. I guess not.

Walks out sticking the lawyer’s business card into the front pocket of his jacket.

Cut to the empty chair and glass hitting the side walk.

Lawyer pulls out his cell phone: 

Set up an interoffice meeting for 4:00. 

Seems we have a new player in town. 

No, no, there is any need to disturb The Senior Partners with this. Not yet.

Cut to Angel sitting in his apartment staring at the phone. He picks it up and dials a number.

Buffy’s voice on the phone: "Hello? Hello?"

Angel hangs up the phone.

Doyle walks in: 

What happened to Russell?

Angel: 

He went into the light.

Doyle: 

And yet you don’t seem to be in a celebrating mood."

Angel: 

Killed a vampire. 

Didn’t help anybody.

Doyle: 

Are you sure about that? 

Because there is a girl upstairs that’s as happy as can be.

There is a scream. Both men jump up and rush upstairs.

They burst into the office upstairs, Angel carefully avoiding the sun streaming in through the windows.

Cordelia with a duster in her hand: 

Ah! Look over there! A cockroach! 

In the corner. I think it’s a bantam weight!

Cordelia to Angel: 

Okay, first thing. 

We need to call an exterminator – and a sign painter. 

We should have a name on the door!"

Angel: 

Okay. I’m confused.

Cordelia:

Doyle filled me in on your little Mission. 

So I was just saying, if we’re going to Help People, 

maybe, a small charge. 

You know, something to help pay the rent, and my salary. 

You need somebody to organise things, 

and you’re not exactly rolling in it, 

Mr. "I-was-alive-for-200-years-and-never-developed-an-investment-portfolio."

Angel: 

You want to charge people?

Cordelia: 

Well, not everybody. 

But sooner or later we are going to have to help some rich people, right? Right?

Doyle: 

Possibly, yeah.

Cordelia (to Angel): 

Hand me that box. 

So I think that we should charge based on a case-by-case analysis, but with me working for a flat fee.

I mean, um…that is - 

if you think that you can use me?

After a moment Angel hands her the box with a smile.

Cordelia: 

Of course this is just temporary - until my inevitable stardom takes effect.

She takes the box from him and walks away with a smile.

Doyle: 

You’ve made a good choice. 

She’ll provide a connection to The World. 

She’s got a very – humanising influence.

Angel with a half smile: 

You think she’s a Hottie."

Doyle: "Yeah, she’s a stiffener alright, I can’t lie about that. But, you know, she could use a hand."

Angel: "True."

Doyle: "You know there’s a lot of people in this city that need helping."

Angel: "Hmm. So I noticed."

Doyle: "You game?"

Cut to nighttime LA superimposed over their faces. Cut to Angel looking out over the city.

Angel: "I’m game."

BLACK OUT.