Roger (Fred’s Dad): I don’t see why it has to be this way. There are plenty of good schools in the area.
Fred: I know and have a nice room and I could meet a nice boy and we could get married and we could live in my nice room.
Trish (Fred’s Mom): He’d have to be a smallish fella.
Fred: And have sweet little babies that could sleep in the drawers.
Roger: I do not see a down side to this plan.
Fred: Daddy, I love you like pancakes but I’m getting the hell outta here.
Trish: Language.
Roger: She should say it. That’s where she’s goin’. “Hell”-A.
Fred: It’s Los Angeles. The city of Angels, remember?
Roger: If you meet one angel there I’ll eat the dogs. Bunch a junkies and spoiled movie actors, that’s who you’re gonna meet.
Fred: In the graduate physics program at UCLA.
Roger: You don’t know.
Trish: Sweetie, why don’t you check the Chevy one more time.
Roger: Chevy’s fine. Slept in the drawer til I was three. Didn’t stunt me none.

Spike: Fuss, fuss. The thing was about to strike. It was on your back. What was I supposed to do?
Angel: Ask me to turn around.
Spike: Heat of battle. Wasn’t time.
Angel: You just like stabbing me.
Spike: Hah! I’m shocked, *shocked* that you’d say that. I much prefer hitting you with blunt instruments.
Angel: You know we only asked you along because we felt sorry for you.
Spike: Weren’t for me you’d be bug food so stop wincing.

Gunn: What’s up?
Wes: I should ask you. You seem unutterably cheery.
Gunn: I am. I am. Look, I gotta be straight with you cause this is kinda blowing my mind.
Wes: Tell me.
Gunn: Fred and I are getting back together. She was so keyed up from last night’s fight she asked me over and we ended up talking for hours just like old times. Then, all of a sudd--I can’t even keep this up cause your face is going to make me weep. Wes I am *so* messing with you.

Gunn: And to add the necessary boiler plate, you ever hurt her I’m gonna kill you like a chicken.

Spike: It’s bollocks, Angel. It’s your brand of bollocks, from first to last.
Angel: You can’t ever see the big picture. You can’t see *any* picture!
Spike: I’m talking about something primal, right? Savagery. Brutal, animal instinct.
Angel: And that wins out every time with you. You know the human race has evolved, Spike!
Spike: Into a bunch of namby-pamby, self-analyzing wankers who could never hope to hold up to aggressors.
Angel: We’re bigger, we’re smarter, plus there’s a thing called teamwork not to mention the superstitious terror of your “pure” aggressors!
Spike: You just want it to be the way you want it to be.
Angel: It’s not about what I want!
Wes: Sorry. Is this something we should all be discussing?
Angel: No.
Wes: It just sounds a little serious.
Angel: It was mostly. . . theoretical.
Spike: We were just working out a . . . . Look, if cavemen and astronauts got into a fight, who would win?
Wes: Ah. . . . . You’ve been yelling at each other for forty minutes about this. . . . Do the astronauts have weapons?
Angel & Spike (in unison): No.

Spike: Harmony just pulled me out of a very promising poker game down in Accounts Receivable, so this better be good. Oh, and by the way, all the guys down there agree that astronauts don’t stand a chance against cavemen, so don’t even start.
Angel: Look. I can’t do this anymore.
Spike: Admitting defeat, are you?
Angel: You and me. This isn’t working out.
Spike: Are you saying we should start annoying other people?
Angel: I’m saying you should go.
Spike: You really can’t stand the competition, can you?
Angel: That is the . . . The way I figure it, Lindsey brought you back as a spirit bound to this place so you’d become invested in it. He only made you corporeal again once you’d gotten used to it. Attached to it.
Spike: I’m not attached. I just don’t have anywhere else to go.
Angel: What if you did? Look, Wolfram & Hart has got offices in every major city in the world *and* a lot more out of it. I’ll give you the resources you need to go anywhere. Cars, gadgets, expense accounts. You fight the good fight. But, in style. And if possible, in outer Mongolia.
Spike: Roving agent. Sort of double-oh 7 without the poncy tux. Go anywhere I want?
Angel: Anywhere. Everywhere.
Spike: Huh. Anywhere but here.

Fred: But that doesn’t make any sense.
Lorne: I jut call it like I see it.
Fred: But the cavemen have fire, that’s what they live with in their caves. The astronauts should have some sort of weapon.

Fred: Hmp. It’s my boys. I haven’t had this many big, strapping men at my bedside since that night with the varsity LaCrosse team. That was a joke.
Lorne: You sure gave us all a big scare, Freddles.
Angel: You just need to rest. Lab’s doing some blood work.
Fred: I’m a mummy, aren’t I?
Spike: I’ve fought plenty of mummies, and none of them are as pretty as you. Almost none.
Fred: Now you all are being too comforting. What’s really up?
Gunn: You’re sick and you’re making it worse by worrying.
Knox: We’ve got that sarcophagus under the scope. If it gave you anything we’ll isolate it in a few hours.
Fred: So you don’t know what it is?
Angel: Yet.
Fred: Ok.
Angel: We’re gonna work this. Shouldn’t take long.
Fred: Handsome man saves me.
Angel: -chuckle- That’s how it works. Let’s get cracking.
Fred: Get cracking. Such an old fogey. . . . . I know you’ve got to go be book man.
Wes: Yes. Just hit that line I’ll be here in a heart beat.
Fred: Assuming I still have one.
Wes: Hush.

Angel: Wes and Fred?
Spike: You didn’t know?
Angel: I didn’t know.

Angel: How’s she handling it.
Wes: She’s smarter than all of us put together. She knows it’s bad.
Gunn: How bad? What do we know?
Knox: Whatever she’s got it doesn’t match up with any of the pathogens in our archives. It’s mystical and it’s not ours.
Angel: What about the sarcophagus?
Wes: My team is cross checking the symbols but it’s also new territory for us.
Gunn: Angel what exactly is happening to her? You talked to the doctors.
Wes: Do they have something?
Angel: Yeah, I, uh. . . Some parasitic agent is working its way through. . . I mean, as near as they can tell. . .
Wes: Get to the point.
Angel: Her organs are cooking. In a days time they’ll liquefy.
Spike: No. Not this girl. Not this day.
Angel: Wes you gotta tell me what was in that box. A name, history, anything.
Knox: We can’t get it open, not even the lasers.
Wes: Where did it come from?
Knox: It just showed up. No return address, didn’t recognize the guy who brought it in, come to think of it, the middle of the night.
Angel: This was deliberate.
Lorne: Senior Partners?
Gunn: Doesn’t add up, but I’ll hit the White Room. Talk to the conduit.
Angel: Now look, if the Senior Partners didn’t do this you gotta get them to help us.
Gunn: Any way I can.
Spike: What about Doyle, uh, Lindsey? Man likes to play his games.
Angel: I was looking to work the streets *and* we’ve got his address. For all we know he’s probably sitting there, laughing. If there’s muscle work to do. . .
Spike: Let’s make it twice as fast.
Lorne: And baby makes three. In case anybody feels like singing.
Angel: Guys?
Wes: You don’t have to say it.
Angel: I’ll say it anyway. Winifred Burkle. Go.

Gunn: Hello? Here kitty kitty? Look I know there’s someone in here and it ain’t just me. I’m not going any wher--[gets hit by Conduit-Gunn] Well whaddaya know. It *is* just me.

Conduit-Gunn: I am not your friend. I am not your flunkie. I am your conduit to the Senior Partners and they are tired of your insolence, oh yeah, they are not here for your convenience.
Gunn: I didn’t come for a favor. We can make a deal.
Conduit-Gunn: Deals are for the devil
Gunn: You want someone else, a life for hers, you’ll get it. You can have mine.
Conduit-Gunn: I already do.

Angel: Well. I’ll be damned all over again.

Eve: Why would we do anything to Fred? Why would we care about-- [smack!]
Lorne: Ooooh! I’m sorry that was a knuckle-buster. I’m Jake LaMotte over here, it’s pathetic. Oh. Here’s the thing, Eve. You’re going to sing for me and I’m going to read you, right now. And here’s one more thing. Winifred Burkle once told me after a sinful amount of Chinese food and in lieu of absolutely nothing, “I think a lot of people would choose to be green. Your shade if they had the choice.” If I hear one note, one quarter note, that tells me you had any involvement, these two won’t even have time to kill you. Oh, and anything by Diane Warren will also result in your death. Well, except “Rhythm of the Night.”

Angel: Come on. Let’s save the day.

Fred: I am not. . . I am not the damsel in distress, I am not some case! I have to work this. I lived in a cave for five years in a world where they killed my kind like cattle. I am not going to be cut down by some monster flu, I am better than that.

Spike: Hey, after we save Fred we should hit the West End. Take in a show.
Angel: I’ve never seen “Les Mis.”
Spike: Trust me. Half way through the first act you’ll be drinking humans again.
Angel: I can’t lose her, Spike.
Spike: You won’t.
Angel: I lost Cordy.

Wes: Angel and Spike are on their way to finding your cure. And I shouldn’t like to be the thing standing in their way.

Fred: It’s terrible. At a time like this I’m worried about how crappy I look.
Wes: You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Fred: You always liked the splotchy girls.
Wes: It’s my curse.

Spike: Strategy?
Angel: Just hold my hand.
Spike: St. Petersburg.
Angel: Thought you’d forgotten.

Knox: I mean, I don’t just care about Fred, I practically worship it.
Gunn: You said ‘it.’
Knox: What?
Gunn: Not ‘her,’ you said ‘I worship it.’
Knox: Oooops.

Gunn: You did this. You did all of this.
Knox: Technically that’s not the case. I just played my part.
Gunn: Why? You couldn’t stand the thought of Wes winning her so you kill her?
Knox: No! I meant everything I said about her. I chose Fred because I love her, because she’s worthy. You think I’d have my God hatched out of some schmuck?
Gunn: What are . . .
Knox: This was all set in motion millions of years ago, Charles. And there’s just no way to stop it.
Gunn: Angel and Spike.
Knox: Oh, they’re really on track, but it doesn’t matter. Angel’s not going to save her.
Gunn: You don’t know Angel.
Knox: I’m not being clear. I don’t mean that Angel’s going to *fail* to save her. I mean that he’s going to let her die.

Knox: There’s only a few of us now. I came to L.A. because I knew that’s where it’s kingdom had been. It was supposed to teleport back to the base of its power, but the continents drifted. Which they do. I had others help me get it here, but then it got stuck in, would you believe it, Customs. But you took care of that. You signed the order to bring it into the lab so you could get another brain-boost. It’s like I said. I’m just one small part of a greater machine.
Gunn: Angel’s gonna save her.
Knox: What he’s fighting against is older than the concept of time. I couldn’t stop it. There’s nothing left to do now but wait. Wait and try to figure out exactly what you want to tell your. . .

Spike: Yeah, it’s been freed. Why do you think we’re here? And what’s your favorite color? What’s your favorite song? Who’s the goalkeeper for Manchester United? And how many fingers am I holding up? You wanna kill me? Try. I don’t have time for your quirks.
Truman: The power to draw back Illyria lies in there. It requires a champion who has traveled from where it lies to where it belongs.
Angel: You’ve got two of those right here.
Truman: I didn’t know it was free. If we bring the sarcophagus back to the well it *will* draw Illyria out of your friend and *into* every single person between here and there. It will become the mystical equivalent of airborne. It will crawl into every soul in its path to keep from being trapped. In time tens, maybe hundreds of thousands will die in agony. If you save her.
Angel: No.
Spike: That’s madness.
Truman: This is a place of madness. I’ll prepare the spell. Your choice.
Angel: Hell with the world.

Fred: I walk with heroes. Think about that.
Wes: You are one.

Angel: Spike.
Spike: This goes all the way through. To the other side. So I figure, there’s a bloke somewhere ‘round New Zealand, standing on a bridge like this one, looking back down at us. All the way down. There’s a hole in the world. Feels like we ought to have known.

Fred: Will you kiss me? Would you have loved me?
Wes: I’ve loved you since I’ve known you. No that’s not . . . I think maybe even before.
Fred: I’m so sorry.
Wes: No, no.
Fred: I need you to talk to my parents. They have to know I wasn’t scared. That I went quick. That I wasn’t scared. Oh, God.
Wes: You have to fight it. You don’t have to talk, just concentrate on fighting. Just hold on.
Fred: I’m not scared. I’m not scared. I’m not scared. Please, Wesley, why can’t I stay?

Illyria: This will do.