Fred: You think that’s a good idea? Playing chicken with the district attorney of a major metropolitan city?
Gunn: Just a little professional rivalry. You want ugly, see us go at it on the golf course.
Fred: You play golf? Since . . . what?!?

Angel: I think I liked you better when you just wanted to hit people.
Gunn: Rational thought. It’s an acquired taste.

Harmony: Boss? We just got a tip some looney’s hatched from the bin.
Angel: Who did a what?
Harmony: A girl at the nuthouse went all ‘Cuckoo’s Nest.’ Hacked up a couple of guards. Went over the wall.
Angel: Really not our department, Harmony.
Wes: Notify the authorities. Make sure they’re on it.
Harmony: Ok, but they better bring a priest. Looks like this chick’s gone all kinds of ‘Exorcist.’
Angel: Wait a minute, she’s possessed?
Harmony: Duh! . . . Didn’t I say that?

Spike: Ah. Well, fancy this. Bitty slug I saved you from scrambled your brains after all? Come to check yourself in?
Angel: What are you doing here, Spike?
Spike: Didn’t you get the memo? Hero of the people now.
Angel: Then go and annoy them.

Doctor: Can I help you?
Spike: Other way ‘round, Doc. I’m. . .
Angel: here to get your patient back. Angel, Wolfram & Hart.
Doctor: A lawyer? I already told the police everything I know.
Angel: Well let’s go over it again, just in case you left out any details.
Spike: What he said, but with a bit more of a threat, at the end.

Angel: Sorry, he’s. . . Is ‘pathological idiot’ an actual condition?

Angel: What happened?
Spike: Just thought I’d see what it’s like to bounce off the pavement. Pretty much what I expected.
Angel: Stay out of it, tactical’s on the way.
Spike: Oh, right. Sure she’ll hang around till they show up.
Angel: You should have waited.
Spike: Keep your knickers on! Least now I know what we’re dealing with. It’s a Chinese demon. Maybe a water dragon, or one of those elemental thingys. . . . What?

Spike: A psychotic vampire slayer.
Angel: How many times you gonna keep saying that?
Spike: Just trying to wrap my lobes around it. A psycho slayer.
Angel: And you let her get away.
Spike: At least I was trying to stop her.
Angel: How that work out?
Spike: At least I know the game now, don’t I? Killed two slayers with my own hands. Think I can handle one that’s gone daft in the melon.

Andrew: Spike?
Spike: Oh, for the love of. . .
Andrew: Spike? It’s you. It’s really you! My therapist thought I was holding on to false hope but, I knew you’d come back. You’re like, you’re like Gandalf the White resurrected from the pit of the Balrog, more beautiful than ever. Oh! He’s alive, Frodo. He’s alive.
Angel: You two know each other?

Angel: Can we save memory lane until *after* we contain the psychotic super power killing machine?

Fred: In every generation one is chosen.
Andrew: Yes, attractive slender woman.

Lorne: Wait. So if there’s only one slayer what is little Miss Whack-Your-Head-Off doing scampering around?
Spike: Little Sunnydale surprise.
Andrew: Six months ago Buffy, vamPYRE slayer extrordinaire, had her lesbian witch make with the beaucoup de magique and one light show later. . .
Angel: All the potentials become slayers.

Andrew: My hypothesis exactly, Pryce. I see Mr. Giles may have been wrong about you.

Spike: That explains why the skirt was yappin’ at me in Chinese. Musta thought she was the slayer I took out in the Boxer Rebellion.
Angel: You mean the slayer you murdered.
Spike: Well I didn’t have a soul back then, did I?
Angel: Right, cause having one now is making *such* a difference.

Angel: Spike, you think this is a joke?
Spike: Only if you’re the punchline.

Spike: We could play cat-and-mouse all night. . . or I could wedgie you unconscious and be done with it.
Andrew: Whoa. I see your senses are as well honed as your Vigo Mortenson pectorals.

Andrew: You’re not the only one who’s changed. Mr. Giles’s been training me. I’m faster, stronger, and 82% more manly than the last time we. . . . Aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh! (screaming like a girl)

Angel: Sure this guy’s reliable?
Lorne: Oh, yeah, Vern’s top drawer. He does all of Tom Arnold’s readings.

Andrew: Wait a minute. She doesn’t know you’re alive, does she?
Spike: I don’t think so. I mean, I don’t know. Does she?
Andrew: No, no. No, she can’t. I would have heard about it. We would have had a conference call. Why haven’t you told her?
Spike: ‘Hello, Buffy. It’s Spike. I didn’t burn up like you thought. How are things?’
Andrew: You want me to tell her? Cause I’m really good with those delicate, personal. . .
Spike: No. Don’t tell her. I’ll take care of it.
Andrew: Got it. The loner. Planet Cucumber. As in “cool as a.”
Spike: Just keep your mouth shut.
Andrew: No problem brother. You’re a troubled hero. Creature of the Night. El creatro del noche.
Spike: Jesus, stop.
Andrew: Living by his own rules. Not afraid of anything, anyone. . . [keeps talking as the scene fades out]


Andrew: What’s it smell like? Blood, I mean.
Spike: Metallic, sorta. You ever taste a penny?
Andrew: No. Wait. . . no.
Spike: Smells like that.
[a bit later. . . ]
Andrew: What is it?
Spike: Blood. Smells stronger.
Andrew: You mean like nickels?

Dana: Heart and head. Have to get home. Doesn’t hurt if you hold still.
Spike: You’re a real sack of hammers, aren’t you? Hey, don’t worry. I used to date a girl who wasn’t all there.

Spike: Right. Let me explain. You got visions, right? Vampire slayer memories kicking around in your head. Which is tough, ‘cuz it sounds like you’re past midnight on the crazy clock anyway.

Dana: William the Bloody.
Spike: No, no, no. That’s not going to lead anywhere good. You wanna focus on what’s real.

Andrew: That’s alright boys, I’ll take her from here. Totally appreciate your help on this one, big guy. Never could have found her without you, but you have enough problems of your own to worry about.
Angel: Get out of the way, Andrew.
Andrew: She’s a slayer. That means she’s ours.
Angel: Yeah. Sorry. Not how it works. Load her up. Don’t hesitate to tranq her if she so much as. . .
Andrew: I don’t think you heard me, Angel. You think we’re just going to let you take her back to your evil stronghold? Well, as they say in Me-hico. . . no. . . . we’re not gonna let you.
Angel: She’s psychotic and I’m not going to turn her over to you.
Andrew: You don’t have a choice. Check the viewscreen, Uhura. I got twelve vamPYRE slayers behind me and not one of them has ever dated you. . . . She’s coming with us one way or another.
Angel: You’re way outta your league. I’ll just clear this with Buffy.
Andrew: Where do you think my orders came from? Newsflash! Nobody in our camp trusts you anymore. Nobody. You work for Wolfram & Hart. Don’t fool yourself. We’re not on the same side. Thank you for your help but, ah, we got it.

Spike: Come to tap dance on the patient, have we doc? I’d give you the finger but apparently I won’t have the motor skills ‘til the drugs wear off.
Angel: Lotta pain?
Spike: More than I’d like. But not as much as you would. Just what I deserve.
Angel: Didn’t say that.
Spike: No. I did. Lass thought I’d killed her family. And I’m s’posed to what, complain, ‘cuz hers wasn’t one of the hundreds of families that I did kill? I’m not saying you’re right. ‘Cuz I’m physically incapable of saying that. But, ah, for a demon, I never did think much about the nature of evil. Just threw myself in. Thought it was a party. I liked the rush. I liked the crunch. Never did look back at the victims.
Angel: I couldn’t take my eyes off them. I was only in it for the evil. It was everything to me. It was art. The destruction of a human being. . . I guess I woulda considered Dana a masterpiece.
Spike: What happens to her?
Angel: I don’t know. Um, Andrew and the slayers took her. Didn’t trust us to help her.
Spike: Andrew double crossed us? That’s a good move. Hah. Hope for the little ponce yet. Though the tingling in my forearms tells me she’s too far gone to help. She’s one of us now. She’s a monster.
Angel: She’s an innocent victim.
Spike: So were we. . . once upon a time.
Angel: Once upon a time.