Nina: You’re a hero.

Angel: That word.

Nina: You’re •my• hero.

Angel: I may not always be.

Spike: Anyhow I thought Wesley was giving you a primer on all things human.

Illyria: He and I are no longer having intercourse.

Spike: Yeah-- Ahh-- You’re what? What?

Illyria: He has ceased communication with me.

Spike: Oh, oh. Communi--

Illyria: My recent reversion into the Buerkle persona disturbed him. He will not tell me why.

Spike: You don’t know? You may not think you’re as powerful as you were, highness, but looking like Fred for some of us is the most devastating power you have.

Angel: Harmony, you mind getting us some coffee?

Harmony: Coming up.

Senator Brucker: Oh, thank you, no, no coffee. But if it isn’t any trouble I think Ernesto might like some blood.

Ernesto: Virgin, if you have it. Room temperature’s fine.

Harmony: Sorry, we have a no human blood policy. I can offer you something in a rodent. We have some fruity, unassuming vole . . .

Marcus: Oh I think we can make an exception to our policy this time for the Senator. Couldn’t we Angel?

Angel: Harmony, the lab might have something in the blood bank. Why don’t you go check it out.

Harmony: Ok. You’re the boss, Boss. Could I maybe just have a teeny weeny--

Angel: No!

Harmony: Just thought I’d ask.

Spike: Listen, you need some Boritz killing done, I’ll have a go. I haven’t had a decent tussle since the Blue Meanie and I stopped sparring.

Wesley: Yes, alright. Call me if you find anything, I’ll be in my office learning what I can.

Illyria: He showed no regard for my presence.

Spike: Not that you require any creature’s attention. Hey! You wanna go find something to hit?

Izzy: Did I tell ya? I ran into Ed the other day.

Angel: Ed?

Izzy: The Grand Potentate Whatchahoozit of the Fell Brethren.

Angel: Right. How is Ed?

Izzy: You know the Fells, all they can talk about is the baby. The baby’s doing this now. The baby’s doing that. What a wonderful ritual sacrifice he’ll make. Yak, yak, yak. Anyway, he couldn’t say enough nice things about you.

Angel: Great.

Izzy: You’re really coming through, Big Guy. There’s a real buzz about you.

Angel: So how much longer do I have to wait for an answer.

Izzy: Hey, these things take time. Trust me. It won’t be long now.

Spike: I think corporate living’s made him lose his love for the hunt. No worries. More for me then.

Illyria: You don’t serve his interest.

Spike: What are you on about?

Illyria: I’ve seen this before with many rulers. Your leader has been corrupted.

Spike: Hey, hang on. In the first place Angel’s not my leader. And in the second, what the bloody hell do you mean corrupted?

Illyria: It always begins the same. A ruler turns a blind eye to the dealings of battles from which he cannot gain. And a deaf ear to the counsel of those closest to him. As his strength increases so does the separation between him and his follow--

Spike: Sshh. Do you smell that?

Illyria: The odors of everything in this world of men are equally repugnant to me.

Spike: Bloody helpful. You’re wrong about Angel. Not that I don’t think the sod could end up being a megalomaniacal bastard, but it’s just if he did I’d know it. I’d feel it.

Illyria: You’ll have proof soon enough. A corrupted ruler on such a path sees treachery and betrayal all around him. He cannot suffer intimates. He will eventually turn against them.

Spike: Guess I don’t have to worry about that because Angel and me have never been intimate. . . . Except that one. . .

Illyria: Mark me. He will murder one of you.

Drogan: Actually, he already has.

Spike: Drogan.

Illyria: Who is this.

Spike: The Guardian of the Deeper Well. The greenskeeper of your graveyard, so to speak.

Illyira: My jailer.

Drogan: Illyria.

Spike: Boritz. [Spike fights the Boritz demon.] Stay away from it’s mouth! It’s bite is poisonous! Go for it’s teeth, it might be a weak spot! [Illyria kills the Boritz demon.] Ok, yeah. That might do it.

Spike: Drogan, what the hell are you doing here? Oh, don’t give me the “ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no lies” bug-a-boo.

Drogan: I came to find you.

Spike: Oh so you tacked up a sign on your tree, waved ‘bye’ to the keepers, hopped a bug and somehow managed to sniff me out in a city of ten million?

Drogan: I can find anyone who has visited the Well, be they in this world or any other. I came to warn you.

Spike: Warn me?

Illyria: He’s bleeding.

Spike: You’re all torn up, mate. What did this to you, the Boritz was it?

Drogan: No. It was Angel.

Harmony: That’d look good on a calf.

Wes: Pardon?

Harmony: Thinking of getting a tattoo, right? Put a little more ‘baaad’ in your Bad Boy Bank? It should go on your calf.

Lorne: Hey, is Angel in there?

Wes: Yes.

Lorne: What’s the weather report?

Wes: Cold. Icy, actually.

Lorne: Well he cut six of my clients loose today. Didn’t even telling me. I spent all day talking them off ledges and pill bottles.

Wes: I sense that suicidal celebrities are beneath Angel’s concern.

Lorne: These are very pretty people I’m talking about, Wes. Four of them are getting in shape for “Young Guns III.”

Lorne: It’s like Angel’s suddenly started channelling Leona Helmsley.

Drogan: It was a Sithari. Part of a clan of demon assassins. He fell upon me last night. The poison from his four blades wearing heavy on my limbs. . .

Spike: Yeah. Rousing bit a rah-rah, mate. Get to the goods.

Drogan: Once I bested him I tortured the Sithari for hours until he confessed who had sent him. It was Angel.

Spike: Tell ‘em why.

Drogan: He said Angel was afraid I would find something in the Deeper Well. Something that would uncover the truth in his involvement.

Gunn: In what?

Drogan: Helping Illyria escape from her tomb.

Wes: I thought the release of her sarcophagus from the Deeper Well was predestined.

Spike: Yeah, what about that bit?

Drogan: Well that’s what I thought at the time, but now I believe Illyria’s resurrection may have been planned.

Gunn: By Angel.

Lorne: That doesn’t make a lick of sense. Why would Angel want to spring and Old One?

Drogan: I don’t think that was the point.

Gunn: Then what was?

Drogan: Before he died the assassin said something about a sacrifice. Someone trusted and dear.

Wes: Are you saying that Angel was responsible for what happened to Fred?

Drogan: He may not have chosen her specifically, but--

Lorne: Whoa! Let’s put a ki-bosh on that sentence before it turns into an ass-kicking.

Drogan: Do you think I gain pleasure in this? I held Angel an ally. A brother.

Wes: And you believe he may have murdered Fred?

Drogan: I know this is difficult for you, but Angel was involved. The information retrieved from the assassin--

Gunn: You ever think maybe he was lying?

Drogan: No one lies when they’re at the mercy of my wrath.

Gunn: Then •you’re• the liar, Aragorn.

Spike: He has to tell the truth. It’s a curse or something.

Gunn: How can we be sure? We don’t even know this guy.

Wes: Gunn, this is Drogan, the Battle Brand. Given eternal youth a thousand years ago. Demon Bane. Truth-sayer. Watcher’s Council.

Spike: Well, see? Did a paper. Bully for him.

Wes: Drogan, any idea what this symbol means?

Drogan: No.

Spike: Where’d you get that?

Wes: This afternoon someone tapped into the template interface. Sent a message to me and that symbol. Somebody’s dropping clues.

Gunn: Playing games is more like it.

Lorne: Well, put me on the short bus, but I still can’t wrap my head around the notion that Angel had anything to with Fred. Or any of this.

Wes: Angel’s has been doing a number of things out of character lately. We’ve all noticed it.

Lorne: Yeah, but why is this happening now? Why the change?

Wes: Yes, why the sudden need to tie up loose ends like Drogan?

Illyria: He’s preparing to make his move.

Gunn: What kinda move are we talking about?

Wes: There’s only one way to find out. We ask him. Drogan should stay here. Under guard.

Spike: I’m not missing the fireworks. Hey, Illyria, you don’t care about any of this nonsense, do you?

Illyria: The intricacies of your fates are meaningless.

Spike: Well then, good. Do you mind watching over our friend Drogan? Oh, come on. New place’d do you good. It’s nice and cozy. Help yourself to some beer in the fridge. Switch on the telly if you get bored. And, ah, feel free to play a little “Crash Bandicoot.” Give you lot something to pass the time.

Illyria: Crash Bandicoot?

Angel: Do I really have to explain this to you people? We’re in the business of business. Oil, software, world wide wickets. The product doesn’t matter, it’s the game that matters. Get to the top, be the best, have the most, win.

Wes: Win what?

Angel: •laughs• You’re still missing the point.

Gunn: That Angel talking, cause it sounds a lot more like Angelus.

Angel: No. If I were Angelus half of you would already be dead, just for the fun of it.

Spike: One of us already is. We having fun yet?

Angel: You want to know the truth? The truth is there’s only one of us who ever understood how things really work. Lorne.

Lorne: Whoa. Hey, hey. Can I •not• be the poster child for your nervous breakdown here?

Angel: You didn’t judge. You didn’t spend your life obsessed with good and evil. You do that, you get swallowed. Lost in the minutae. Good, bad, Angel, Angelus. None of it makes a difference. I wish it did, but you know, an ant with the best intentions or the most diabolical schemes is just exactly an ant. There is one thing in this business and this apocalypse that we call a world that matters. . . power. Power tips the scale. Power sets the course. And until I have real power, global power, I have nothing. I accomplish nothing.

Wes: And how you get this power --

Angel: Isn’t pretty. Isn’t fun. You think it’s Wolfram & Hart getting to me here, and maybe you’re right. Because they’ve shown us what power is. From day 1 they’ve been calling the shots. All we’ve done is get shot at. I have a chance to change that.

Lorne: And will you? I mean, not to play an old saw, but power does traditionally corrupt. You get high up enough and, well, the people, they do start to look like ants.

Angel: I can’t worry about that. The small stuff.

Harmony: Angel? That important phone call from that guy about that thing? It’s on line 3.

Angel: We’re done here. I have to take this.

Spike: Yeah, the guy, about the thing.

Wes: The small stuff, that you can’t worry about? Would that include Fred?

Angel: I loved Fred.

Wes: That’s not an answer.

Angel: Then I guess you don’t get one.

Wes: For God’s sake, say something.

Lorne: What would you like me to say? That Angel loved Fred and that in an eon of eons he would never harm her in any way? I wish I could Wes. But if he believes what he’s saying, and I believe he does.

Wes: It doesn’t make any sense. Angel never cared about power.

Lorne: Well he’s never had any to care about, has he? Not real power. Even as Angelus. And then just like that he’s king of the mountain. It’s quite a view from up there. Tends to make people want things. Even if they start with the best intentions. Angel’s seen real power and he’s not looking away. He’s gonna go for it Wes.

Lindsey: •laughs• You boys look like you could use a hug.

Angel: You don’t be with me. You don’t want to be near me.

Nina: Because I might get hurt?

Angel: Because I’m the thing that’ll hurt you.

Drogan: It is a test. A task of some sort. You must collect those crystals. And fruit.

Illyria: Why?

Drogan: Old one. You have no right to walk this earth. Your time is past. You belong to the Well.

Illyria: Truly. I wish now that I had never been brought out of it.

Drogan: Do you?

Illyria: I don’t know. I play this game. It’s pointless. And annoys me. And yet I’m compelled to play on.

Lindsey: So what are you gonna do? You gonna beat it out of me?

Spike: If you say so.

Gunn: We all know how this goes. Spike beats you to a bloody pulp, you beg for mercy, and we get what we came for.

Lorne: Who needs all that rigamarole?

Lindsey: I don’t know why Angel gave up that kid. Or anything else. Me and him? Not too close. Now can I get back to my game of solitaire? Where’d you get that?

Wes: Doesn’t matter. What does it mean?

Lindsey: •laughs• Is that what all this is about? All these questions about Angel? No. No way. No way they’d take Angel.

Spike: Who’s ‘they’?

Lindsey: Circle of the Black Thorn.

Lorne: Sounds like a little sewing club for pirates.

Lindsey: It’s a secret society.

Gunn: Never heard of ‘em.

Lindsey: That’s cause they’re secret.

Wes: Angel dedicated his life to helping others. Not because he had to but because it was a path he’d chosen. If he’s been swayed from that - influenced - maybe there’s still time. We can bring him back. He’d do the same for any of us, regardless of our actions.

Lorne: Ok, well what if he’s skipped too far down that Evil Brick Road?

Izzy: See? Didn’t I tell you it was going to happen? How about that lamb we got you for the slaughter? Any idea who that was?

Angel: Drogan. Battle Brand.

Izzy: Damn straight. We got you some supercharged warrior juice, not some schmuck. You must feel great.

Spike: Might want to stay down.

Angel: Or what? Careful. You don’t want to get yourselves hurt.

Gunn: We know what you’ve been doing. Giving up the baby to the Fell Brethren. Working for Senator Bitch. Trying to take out Drogan to cover up what you did to Fred. For what? To get in bed with the Circle of the Black Thorn?

Angel: So you figured it out.

Lorne: Yeah, a little singing from a jailbird we know. . . and loathe.

Angel: Lindsey? And you believed him.

Spike: Doesn’t have a reason to lie.

Angel: Doesn’t need one.

Wes: Unlike you.

Angel: What I do here is my business. You don’t like how I conduct it, you can leave. Before I kill you.

Wes: Kill us? Hard to believe we’re having trouble trusting you.

Angel: Just telling it like it is.

Wes: Then we have a problem.

Angel: I guess we do.

Angel: We done?

Wes: Let him go.

Angel: You don’t give the orders. Lorne, pull this thing out of me. Easy, not in a great mood. Good. Now, let’s finish this. Involvary. All right, we have six minutes.

Spike: Till what?

Angel: The glamour collapses. As far as anyone outside of this room is concerned, we’re still at each other’s throats.

Wes: Aren’t we?

Angel: Look, we don’t have a lot of time here, so I’m gonna have to make this short. Everything you think you know, everything you’ve heard is a lie.

Gunn: Why should we believe you?

Angel: Because I’m the one who told it. Read any good books lately?

Wes: You sent us the message?

Angel: And the assassin to kill Drogan.

Spike: So that part was true?

Angel: I knew Drogan could handle himself. I told the assassin just enough to lead Drogan to think I played a part in resurrecting Illyria. I figured he’d come here looking for allies against me.

Wes: Why would you want us to believe you killed Fred?

Angel: Because they needed to believe it.

Gunn: The Black Thorn.

Angel: They needed to believe my own people didn’t trust me anymore. They needed to believe a person as good and pure as Drogan considered me an enemy. It was the only way to gain their confidence.

Lorne: Oh, So this evil Angel thing’s been a big scam-ola. I smell Oscar.

Spike: When did this all start.

Angel: Two months ago. With a kiss. Though it didn’t hit me til later that night.

Wes: Cordelia gave you her visions.

Angel: One-shot deal. She put me on the path. Showed me where the real powers are. But I couldn’t see where they were. And then Fred died and I wasn’t going to let that be another random, horrible event in a random, horrible world. So I decided to use it to make her death matter. And it worked. I’m in. I’ve seen the faces of evil. I know who the real powers in the apocalypse are.

Gunn: So, all that power tilts the scales crap.

Angel: It’s true. We’re in a machine. The machine’s going to be here long after our bodies are dust. The Senior Partners will always exist in one form or another because mankind is weak.

Lorne: Ah, do you want me to point my crossbow at him because I think he’s going to start talking about ants again.

Angel: We are weak. The powerful control everything. Except our will to choose. Look, Lindsey’s a pathetic half-wit but he was right about one thing. Heroes don’t accept the way the world is. Senior Partners may be eternal but we can make their existence painful.

Wes: You want to take them on.

Angel: We’re in the machine. The Black Thorn runs it. We can bring their gears to a grinding halt even if it’s just for a moment.

Spike: About time we got our hands dirty.

Angel: This isn’t a keep fighting the good fight kinda deal. Let’s be clear. I’m talking about killing every single member of the Black Thorn. We don’t walk away from that.

Lorne: Do we crawl away at least?

Angel: We do this, Senior Partners will rain their full wrath. They’ll make an example of us. I’m talking full-on hell, not the basic fire and brimstone kind we’re used to.

Gunn: We know the drill.

Angel: No, you don’t. Ten to one we’re gone when the smoke clears. They will do everything in their power to destroy us. So, I need you to be sure. Power endures. We can’t bring down the Senior Partners but for one bright, shiny moment we can show them that they don’t own us. You need to decide, for yourselves, if that’s worth dying for. I can’t order you to do this. Can’t do it without you. So we’ll vote, as a team. Think about what I’m asking you to do. Think about what I’m asking you to give.

Spike: Kill ‘em all. Bring the house down while we’re still in it.

Angel: Something like that.

Spike: I’m in.

Wes: I’m in.