GUY: Who is it?

LINDSEY: (through door) You don't know me. My name is Lindsey McDonald. I work at Wolfram and Hart.

GUY: What do you want?

LINDSEY: I wanna talk to you, just for a minute. Can I come in? (The guy closes the door enough to release the safety chain, opens it again to let Lindsey in, then glances out along the corridor before closing the door.) No, it's okay. I'm alone.

GUY: Professional habit. I, ah, see a lot of low-lives.

LINDSEY: Yeah, I guess you would be, being a parole officer. Listen. This is completely off the record. I had a procedure done - at Fairfield Clinic. I know they paid you to do things for them in the past, and I don't care about that. What I do care about is finding out where they get their body parts.

GUY: What's the code?

LINDSEY: Code?

GUY: Well, if you're with Wolfram and Hart, you know the code.

LINDSEY: Look, I'm a lawyer there. This is not my case. I don't know the code. We don't need the code. I can pay you...

(The guy hits Lindsey across the chin, sending him crashing down onto the sofa table. Hits him over the head as he comes back up and everything goes dark. .... The parole officer is holding Lindsey up against the wall, pressing the muzzle of his revolver against his throat.)

GUY: Now you got three seconds to tell me what the game is.

LINDSEY: There is no game. This is about me.

GUY: Good bye.

(Something comes flying into the room, shattering the window. The guy spins around and shoots at Angel standing just outside of it and Angel drops out of sight. Guy grabs Lindsey from behind around the throat and drags him over towards the window, holding the gun against his head.)

GUY: Friend of yours?

LINDSEY: No, he's not.

GUY: Hey, I'm about to out a bullet into your buddy's brain here! - I got him. I know I got him.

(The guy leans out the window to look and Angel shoots up and slings a loop of rope over his head around his throat. Lindsey spins free, twisting the gun out of the guy's grip at the same time.)

LINDSEY: What are you doing here?!

ANGEL: Gee, I don't know, saving your life?

LINDSEY: (waves the guy's gun wildly in Angel's face) I don't need you to save my life.

GUY: Hey, watch it with that!

ANGEL: Gee, a little gratitude, Lindsey. Goes a long way.

LINDSEY: You got no business! What-why aren't you trying to kill me?!

ANGEL: Excuse me. I'm on a case here, Lindsey. Does everything always have to be about killing you all the time?

GUY: I-I can see you guys got issues, so I'll just... (Stops as Angel tightens the rope on his throat.)

LINDSEY: That's my lead! You're choking my lead!

ANGEL: 'He's *my* lead! He's *my* lead!' What, are we on the schoolyard here? Look, if you wanna get to the bottom of this, you got to learn how to play with others. (To the parole-guy) Look, I'm gonna loosen the rope and you're gonna tell me everything about your parolee, Bradley Scott.

LINDSEY: Who?

ANGEL: The guy whose hand you're wearing. You might want to listen up.

LINDSEY: You don't tell me what to do.

ANGEL: (to the guy) He's so immature.

LINDSEY: Shut up!!

ANGEL: (to guy) We're waiting.

GUY: I'm not telling you zip. You can kill me but Wolfram and Hart will do a lot worse.

ANGEL: Kill you? - Why would I kill you (morphs into vamp-face) when I could live off you for a month? (Pats man's face as he screams.) Hmm, can't you just taste that butter fat?

LINDSEY: You are really gross, you know that?

GUY: I'll tell ya! I'll tell ya! Scott stole some bearer bonds, went to jail. When he got paroled, Wolfram and Hart had him assigned to me.

ANGEL: According to your file he was a fugitive no-show, but you saw him, didn't you?

GUY: Just once.

LINDSEY: You took him to Fairfield Clinic?

GUY: No, I didn't take him there.

ANGEL: Where?

GUY: Just some address. I don't know what they do there. I don't wanna know.

• Angel & Lindsey
• Funnies

written by: David Greenwalt; Original transcript anonymous. Edited & formatted for this site by Sylvia.. Full transcript at:
http://www.buffyworld.com/angel/season2/transcripts/40_tran.shtml