| Conviction | Just Rewards | Unleashed | Hellbound | Life of the Party |

| The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco | Lineage | Destiny | Harm's Way |

| Soul Purpose | Damage | You're Welcome | Why We Fight |

| Smile Time | A Hole in the World | Shells | Underneath | Origin |

| Time Bomb | The Girl in Question | Power Play | Not Fade Away |

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2. Just Rewards

Spike: What...what...
Harmony: What the hell are you doing here, Spike?
Wesley: Harmony, please.
Gunn: This is Spike? The Spike?
Fred: Wait a minute. Who's—
Lorne: Easy, slim. Easy. No one's gonna hurt you.
Gunn: Speak for yourself, green jeans.
Fred: OK, would somebody please tell me who—
Wesley: William the Bloody. He's a vampire. One of the worst recorded. Second only to—
Angel: Me. But you're dead.

Spike: Bugger.

Harmony: Oh...my...God! You and the slayer actually... I mean, I know you had that twisted obsession with her, but...yecch. That's just... yecch. I... yecch! 

Spike: I must be in hell.
Lorne: Uh, no. L.A., but a lot of people make that mistake.

Lorne: Yeah, the vampire slayer both men loved, both men lost. Oh, I could sell that to any studio in a heartbeat. I see Depp and Bloom. But then I see them a lot. Sorry. Hazard of running the entertainment division. Gotta get out more.

Fred: Ectoplasm's what makes ghosts visible to the human eye. If he's a ghost, technically we shouldn't be able to see him. And I'm detecting brainwave activity.
Angel: On Spike? That is weird.
Fred: Also, ghosts generally absorb light and heat energy making the area around them a few degrees cooler. Spike's radiating heat.
Spike: Think I'm hot, do you?
Fred: Mm...lukewarm. Just above room temperature.

Spike: What? You mean my skin and muscle burning away from the bone? Organs exploding in my chest? Eyeballs melting in their sockets? No. No memory at all. Thanks for asking.

Fred: Spike?
Spike: Hmm? Oh, balls. 

Spike: And this, bloody hell, wasn't mine. I'm not you. I don't give a piss about atonement or destiny. Just because I got me a soul doesn't mean I'm gonna let myself be led around by—
Fred: E-excuse me?
Wesley: Did—did you just say— Spike has a soul? You never said.
Angel: Didn't seem worth mentioning, you know.
Gunn: Seems to be a lot of that.
Spike: Or maybe Captain Forehead was feeling a little less special. Didn't like me crashing his exclusive club—another vampire with a soul in the world.
Angel: You're not in the world...Casper. 

Spike: I'm not the prat here. I know you, Angel. What do you think you're doing? Made some devil's bargain to take over this company. Thought you'd use it to fight the evil of the world from inside the belly of the beast. Trouble is you're too busy fighting to see you and yours are getting digested.

Angel: That... I'm meeting with Grox'lars?! They eat babies!
Harmony: Just their heads. You were supposed to open negotiations with his clan.

Wesley: Why bother handing you the keys to the kingdom?
Angel: Doesn't make sense. What are the senior partners playing at?
Wesley: Maybe there's dissent in their ranks, or maybe there's another player in the game they—and we don't know anything about. Then again, maybe they got exactly what they were after.

Spike: Don't think I didn't bleeding try. Every time I got as far as the city limits I kept popping back here like my insides are getting yanked.
Wesley: Hmm. I suspected as much. The amulet's Wolfram & Hart's property. It's bound to this place, and since Spike's connected to it...

Spike: Hey! I'm nobody's bloody property, Percy. So what? I'm just stuck here forever? I bet you're loving this, aren't you?
Angel: Knowing you'll be haunting me till the end of time? Hmm. It's a dream come true.

Wesley: You can't take Hainsley on yourself.
Angel: I'm not gonna risk him turning somebody else into chowder.
Wesley: Angel, you have a multi-billion dollar company at your disposal with armed and trained personnel.
Angel: They cramp my style. 
Wesley: Your style's not gonna cut it with a necromancer. We should probably avoid an eye-for-an-eye escalation here.
Angel: Not going for his eyes, Wes.
Gunn: I know what you should go for. It'll hurt him. Bad.

Spike: This haunting-you-till- the-end-of-time idea of yours is starting to sound appealing. I could drive you completely starkers, right out of your gourd. Yeah, and you wouldn't be able to do a sodding thing about it. Fancy a road trip. This'll be fun, eh? You and me together again. So...where are we off to?
Angel: To see the wizard.

Butler: Do you have an appointment with Mr. Hainsley?
Spike: Let's just say he sent us an invitation.
Angel: We're—I'm from Wolfram & Hart.
Spike: I'm his date.

Angel: What is your problem?
Spike: You are, ya ponce! You're my problem. You got it too good. You're king of a 30-floor castle, with all the cars, comfort, power, and glory you could ever want, and here I save the world, throw myself onto the proverbial hand grenade for love, honor, and all the right reasons, and what do I get? Bloody well toasted and ghosted is what I get, isn't it? It's not fair.
Angel: Fair?! You asked for a soul. I didn't! It almost killed me. I spent a hundred years trying to come to terms with infinite remorse. You spent 3 weeks moaning in a basement, and then you were fine! What's fair about that?!

Spike: That's how you're gonna fight the forces of evil now—call the I.R.S.?
Angel: Whatever it takes.
Spike: Hello, I.R.S.? Will you fight my battles for me? And while you're at it, will you wipe my wide, spotty...

Wesley: I've had my entire department doing thorough research on the amulet. There's not much. Not in the way of releasing Spike from it, anyway. At least not in the conventional sense. 
Angel: And what's the unconventional sense?
Wesley: Something he asked for. Eternal rest.

Angel: What do you want from me?
Spike: I can't live like this, Angel. Being useless. Being nothing. I want it to end.

Spike: Come on, Angel. What choice did I have? Bloody exorcism? Letting you and yours banish me to oblivion? No, thanks. Necro here's gonna give me my body back... after I take yours for a test drive, fix his little problems. And here's the kicker: I go in, and you go... pfft! Off to never-never-come-back land. And then... yours very truly will be running the show. Your cars, your fancy digs, everything—everyone—I deserve...will be mine. And maybe I'll have a go with that Fred. She looks like a goer, and she seems to really look up to you.
Angel: Shut up.

Spike: Oh, bollocks. I was just getting warmed up.
Angel: That was you hitting me?

Spike: The last bit, yeah. Hainsley's been dead since he hit the table. Oh, come on. Had to get a few licks in, didn't I?

Spike: I know what's down there—where it's trying to take me—and it's not the place heroes go. Not by a bloody long shot. It's the other one. Full of fire and torment. And it's happening. And I'm terrified. Help me?

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3. Unleashed

Lorne: Hey, uh, who wants some mu shu? I got beaucoup mu shu here.

Fred: Turns out running a company doesn't leave a lot of time for, you know, covert ops.

Lorne: Yeah, I'm up to my horns in schmoozin' starlets and boozin' hipsters, Angel.

Gunn: I made a deal. We all did. Seems like I'm the only one who's willing to accept that. Everybody here got something out of this.
Angel: Fear, mistrust, a great motor pool. 
Lorne: I got the Nancy Sinatra collection. Original 45s.
Wesley: I did get a rather nice pen. Sterling. Has my name on it. Which is not the point at all.

Spike: Hey, I'm a situation, remember? I'm a bloody phantom. And you and your serious girl spectacles were gonna help me with my bloody little problem.
Fred: I know, and I bloody will. I had some ideas. 

Spike: It was a long time ago. He was a young watcher, fresh out of the academy, when we crossed paths. It was a, what-you-call, battle of wills...and blood was spilled. Vendettas were sworn. It was a whole—
Fred: My God... you're so full of crap.

Spike: That's rough. 'Cause here on out, she's in the kill-or-be-killed club. 
Angel: Here on out, she's under my protection.
Spike: If you find her before she turns. Catch her after she goes all growly, won't be easy taking her out. I had a wee spat with a werewolf myself once. Fought for over an hour. Brutal, vicious. Almost lost my—
Fred: Angel killed him with a pen.

Angel: You know that whoosh thing that you do when you're suddenly not there anymore? I love that.

Angel: What I'm trying to do, Nina, is help you.
Nina: Said the psycho rapist. 

Nina: So...what? You're like a Frankenstein?
Angel: What? No! I'm—I'm a vampire.
Nina: Vampire.
Angel: But I have a soul. I'm—I'm not evil, and neither are you.

Nina: How would you—you're not a monster, too, are you?
Fred: Nope. Standard-issue science nerd. I did spend 5 years in a demon dimension... 'til Angel saved me.
Nina: Guess he saves a lot of girls, huh?
Fred: Girls, guys...puppies. He's pretty much an equal-opportunity saver.
Nina: So, you two are like a couple?
Fred: Uh, me and Angel? Oh, God, no. He—he was seeing someone, sort of... but she... Angel doesn't date much—at all. 'Cause of his circumstances.

Fred: Yeah. A demon-hunting, helpless-helping, dysfunctional family.

Lorne: Whoa! Watch it there! Just passing by and got splashed with a heap of grouchy. Got to tell you, Angelkins, that extra weight is not looking so good on you. I'm talking about psychic pounds, pumpkin. Why don't you consider me the Jenny Craig for the soul, huh? So let's hear it.
Angel: I'm not gonna sing.
Lorne: Couldn't bear it if you did. No, it's talking you need... or maybe a shoulder to—
Angel: I'm not gonna cry either.

Lorne: Like him, don't like him—that's up to you. You're fighting so many enemies around you, Angel, your punches are getting sloppy, and we've got the bruises to prove it. We're operating in unfriendly territory, champ. I don't want you to forget about the people covering your back.

Fred: It's my fault. I called Nina like totally suicidal 'cause this guy in our ceramics class dumped me. And then my car got towed. And she wanted to call, but my cell phone battery—

Gunn: I'm all up in the law now, but damn it feels good to get my violence on.

Gunn: What, no leprechaun souffle?
Crane: There's no such thing as leprechauns.

Nina: How do you live with it? Knowing that you've...killed people?
Angel: Nina, they were going to eat you for dinner.

Angel: I'm sorry. I probably should've had you guys over sooner, but I'm still trying to get used to the place myself.
Lorne: Look at this. I'm home! Hey, cosmos all around?
Fred: Sounds good.
Wesley: Quite luxurious.
Angel: Yeah, it's not bad.

Wesley: What if I have a craving for Sasquatch Soup?
Gunn: Is that something you English eat with your beans on toast?
Fred: Mmm, you guys are making me hungry. Who wants Chinese?
Gunn: Long as nothing comes tar-tar, I'm in.
Wesley: No, I'm too tired to make any decisions.
Lorne: Just order the usual, Fredikins.
Angel: I'm buying.
Lorne: Ladies and gentlemen, hell just froze over.
Gunn: So...werewolf girl. Think you got a shot?
Angel: She gave me a look.
Wesley: Really? A look?

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4. Hellbound

Spike: How long did you know I was there?
Fred: Uh, just since the lobby. But that popping up behind me was really scary. Look, I dropped my papers.
Spike: Nice touch.
Fred: Thanks.

Fred: Ah! That totally makes sense.
Spike: What does?
Fred: The fluctuations in your readings. Lack of particle cohesion. It's almost as if your essence is straddling a dimensional void, which may be the key, assuming that the amulet you used to save the world is some sort of trans-reality amplifier capable of focusing massive quantities of mystical energy.
Spike: And what in the King's English does that mean to the dearly almost departed? 
Fred: It means that if I can defy most of the laws of nature, there's a good chance I'll be able to anchor you to this plane and make you corporeal.
Spike: Well... might be a hug in your future after all.

Spike: Don't mean to interrupt the sitting in the dark basement, mate, but could you point the quickest way back to the lab? As the ghost flies— 

Wesley: Half of these are antiquities of the rarest order. If I exploit every connection I've made over the last month as the new head of research and intelligence... 20 minutes.
Fred: Great. Let me know when they're in.
Wesley: Under one condition... dinner.
Fred: Oh, I, uh...
Wesley: I mean you, having one, a real one. When's the last time you had anything besides day-old takeout? Or had more than a nap up in your lab?

Angel: Whoa! Trying to do what?
Fred: Make Spike corporeal again like you asked.
Angel: Uh, no, what I asked for was for you to try to find a way to get Spike out of Wolfram & Hart.

Fred: He just saved the world. Vampire with a soul fighting for the good of humanity. Ring anything? He's just like you, a champion.
Angel: God, I really hate that word.

Eve: He is quite the dish, with those eyes... 
Fred: And the hair and the cheeks and— What do you think I am, stupid? I know he's been playing me with the looks and the smiles. I'm not some idiot schoolgirl with a crush.

Spike: Right. Vampire ghost here, ya sod. Bloody well invented afraid of the dark.

Spike: Just thought we could hang is all. Couple of vampires from the old days doing our... hangy thing.

Angel: I never escaped from hell. All I got was a short reprieve. Not even sure how I managed that.
Spike: Oh, put your martyr away, Mahatma. Fred told me all about your great, shining prophecy. Pile up all your good deeds and get the big brass ring handed to you like everything else.
Angel: Except for one small catch. The prophecy's a bunch of bull. They all are. Nothing's written in stone or fated to happen, Spike. You save the world, you end up running an evil law firm.

Spike: Then why even bother? Try to do the right thing, make a difference...
Angel: What else are we gonna do?
Spike: So that's it, then. I really am going to burn. 
Angel: Welcome to the club.
Spike: Least I got company, eh? You and me, together again. Hope and Crosby. Stills and Nash. Chico and the—
Angel: Yeah, are we done?
Spike: Never much for small talk, were you? Always too busy trying to perfect that brooding block-of-wood mystique. God, I love that.
Angel: Not as much as I loved your nonstop yammering.
Spike: The way you always had to be the big swingy, swaggerin' around, barkin' orders...
Angel: Never listening...
Spike: Always interrupting...
Angel: And your hair. What color do they call that, radioactive?
Spike: Never much cared for you, Liam, even when we were evil.
Angel: Cared for you less.
Spike: Fine.
Angel: Good. There was one thing about you...
Spike: Really?
Angel: Yeah, I never told anybody about this, but I—I liked your poems.
Spike: You like Barry Manilow.

Gunn: Give him 20 minutes. He'll be popping up next to you in the bathroom, making cracks about your— Am I the only one he does that to?

Spike: The reaper? Tall, grim fellow with a scythe? Is that what all this boogie-boogie's been about?
Glass Ghost Woman: It hurts...
Spike: I been knocking around the land of the lost for months now, pretty as you please. Slipped through the cracks, did I?

Psychic: All right. Let's get to it. Eve tells me that you've lost a ghostie. 
Fred: Well, he's not actually a ghost technically. More of a—
Psychic: Yeah, whatever. Now, I have pilates at the crack of why-am-I-awake? So we're gonna move this right along. I will mutter a few calming words to get us into the zone, and then we'll see if we can scare up your missing spook. OK. Clear your minds... which, judging by the looks of you, won't be that hard. 
Fred: Should we hold hands?
Psychic: Only if you're lonely. Now, zip it and let me do my sweet funky. I call upon the guardian of souls, the keeper of the passage. Let our breath flow from what is to what has passed. Bless us with the presence of the lost. Grant us communion with the world beyond our reach. Give voice to those who can no longer be heard. I beseech you, open your gates... reveal your secrets. 

Angel: Spike, stop it.
Spike: It's not me, you git.

Gunn: Got it. The dark soul.
Angel: What's it say?
Gunn: A lot. There are over 3,200 different references. 4 of them are about you.
Angel: What? Give me that.
Wesley: This is getting us nowhere.
Angel: Let me see this. Well, that's not fair. I didn't even have a soul when I did that.

Pavayne: ...all rules are mine. Reality bends. My desire. The way it was meant to...
Spike: Bending reality? I didn't just fade away. It was you. That's why they can't see me anymore.

Wesley: That's never good.
Fred: What? Oh, no, I... I just ran out of white board. I'm not crazy. Again.
Gunn: Just scary smart.

Gunn: Actually, it's not that bad......if you like cats.
Angel: I'm kind of a dog person.

Spike: Keen little racket you've got carved out for yourself—prying off spirits and sucking them down the chute. Kept your own toasties out of the fire, didn't it? 'Til now.

Spike: Don't kill him. If he becomes a spirit again, we'll never stop him.
Angel: Fine. No killing. Just a whole lot of bruisin'.

Spike: No. I'm not gonna end up like Pavayne—cheating hell any way he could, no matter who it hurt.
Fred: Just proves what I've been telling everybody.
Spike: That I'm a handsome devil who brightens the place up?
Fred: That you're worth saving.
Spike: Don't have it so bad, really. Plenty of room. Good company. Even picked up a few new tricks. I guess there's worse things...than being a ghost.

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5. Life of the Party

Lorne: Harmonica!
Harmony: Lorney-tunes! 

Lorne: Oh, don't worry, darlin'. I've pulled the big boy out of many a brood-fest. It shouldn't be that— Eww. 

Angel: Look, Lorne, I've been out all night, OK? I'm beat up, I'm exhausted, I'm covered head to toe in Thraxis blood, which actually kind of burns, so this is all gonna have to wait until I take a shower. 

Lorne: You killed the Thraxis? 
Angel: Shower. 

Lorne's Reflection: Ooh, ouch. That's an adult-sized bang-a-roo. Hello? Oh, Mr. Smiles. Oh, come on, you can't ignore me forever. Oh, well, fine. Looks like you're gonna have to slap a band-aid on that melon, draw a grin on that bewitching green mug, and go right back out there. On the count of 9, sunshine. 1...2...3...The show stops for no demon, Lorne. 4...5... They're all waiting for you. 6...7... They're counting on you. 8...comin'up on 9. They're gonna eat you up with a spoon because you're so scrumptious! 
Lorne: Shut up! 
Lorne's Reflection: Don't, don't leave me this way I can't exist I'll surely miss your tender kiss so don't leave me this way ohhhh... 

Angel: No releasing, just bathing. That's what one does after bashing open a demonic piñata full of rancid Tabasco. What do you want, Eve? 
Eve: You stood me up. We had a 7:30, Angel, a meeting. 
Angel: Oh. Right. Uh... I'll get my pants. 

Angel: Well, you said it yourself. Everyone needs a release. 
Eve: No. I said you need a release. Not everyone bottles all this stuff up like you.
Angel: I don't bottle. 
Eve: You bottle. 
Angel: I don't bottle. 

Knox: Oh, I don't know. It seemed kind of simple to me. It's just a little hand-held, spell-casting robot, right? So it's either the robot or the spell that we have a problem with. 
Wesley: Well, the grenade's core enchantment looks operational, so I think we're talking about a faulty trigger mechanism. 
Fred: No, wait a minute. I designed that mechanism myself. 
Knox: Yeah, that's right, and I machined it. It was beautiful work, on both counts, if I may say. 
Fred: You may. 

Lorne: Et tu, Brutuses? Why is it so hard to get anyone to have any fun around here? 

Knox: You should go. It's the Halloween blowout to end all blowouts. Last year, uh— They took a bunch of cows and put them in a giant wicker effigy of Krishna, uh, doused it with sambuca, and it— Uh, well... anyway, it—it's a hell of a good time. 

Lorne: Look, I know he's the boss and everything, but you're up and coming here, and it's time for you to spread your wings, legal eagle. From now on, I want you to stake out your territory, and I want you to keep it staked. 
Gunn: Stake, territory. Sure. Look, um, Lorne, I'm a little busy right now. I have a deposition to get ready for, but I will definitely get to that

Harmony: Here's your blood, bossy. Ahem. Boss. 

Harmony: Good luck. The morale around here stinks. 
Angel: What? 
Harmony: Uh-huh. Everybody thinks you suck. Well, come on, boss. They're all out there, sweating through their matsudas, worried if you're gonna axe them or, you know, axe them. 
Angel: OK, look, hey, I haven't— OK, look, I may have...killed a couple of them. 
Lorne: And several clients...and maybe some potential clients? Why do you think my R.S.V.P. list is only a fifth of the size of last year's? 
Eve: It's you, babe. 
Angel: Come on, what, do they think I'm throwing this thing so I can slaughter them? Fine. I surrender. Go ahead, Lorne. Put on your best dog and pony. I won't get in the way. 

Angel: This really matters to you, doesn't it? 
Lorne: Well, of course. The new Wolfram & Hart— I mean, we have to— 
Angel: No. I mean, this really matters to you. Personally. 
Lorne: Yeah. You know, Angel, I— I don't have superhuman strength, and I'm not a fighter. Quantum physics makes me nauseous, and I barely made a passing grade at mystical studies, but I'm on your team. This is something I can do. I believe it has a purpose that can help you, even if you don't. 

Sebassis: Yes. Though I do prefer the tales of your counterpart Angelus. Ah, you had flair back then, child. 
Angel: Well, I guess we all mellow in our old age. 

Sebassis: Oh, come, come. We're all blood-drinkers here. Ah, but that's right. You choose to drink the blood of swine. Filthy beasts. 
Angel: Actually, that's a misconception. 
Lorne: Filthy! Yes! Honestly, I don't know how he does it. 

Lorne: Oh, right, that's, uh—ah. So, tell me, that mask, uh, it is rubber, right? 

Fred: I guess I've always hated parties. I never know what to do with myself. I just end up at the hors d'oeuvres table, trying to look occupied. 

Lorne: Oh, no, no, no, sweetie. You're the young, the beautiful, the ready-to— oh. Well, here's one problem. You're totally sober! It's Halloween. You should be 3 sheets to the wind already. Now, try and get into the spirit of things, OK? 

Lorne: Angel. It's a graveyard out there, and all the guests wanna meet the new guy in charge. 
Angel: Look, Lorne, I—I— I have things. I'm busy. I'm brooding. 
Lorne: Oh, you're watching hockey! 
Angel: Yeah, but my team is losing. 

Angel: Yeah, Spike. I thought you hated these kind of things. 
Spike: I would've thought the same of you. 
Lorne: Oh, no, he's doing great. He's already not killed, like, 100 guests. 
Spike: He doesn't have to. Party's already dead. 
Lorne: Oh, really, Spike, would it kill you to be a little more positive? Hmm? 

Fred: Yeah, for 8 years straight, I went out dressed as Raggedy Ann. 
Wesley: Ooh, sorry. Sounds like fun, I suppose. We never really celebrated Halloween in England.
Fred: Oh. That's so sad. Look, potstickers! 
Harmony: Watch your step, guys. Somebody peed all over there. 
Fred: Well, that's just— huh. Just wrong. 
Wesley: Revolting. 

Eve: I have to say, I'm impressed. I saw you with Sebassis. I honestly didn't know you had it in you. 
Angel: Yeah, well, it was an act. I think. 
Eve: I picked up on that from 100 yards away. Yep. You were bangin' it out to the cheap seats. 
Angel: Funny. I was gonna say the same thing about that dress. 
Lorne: Oh, you two. Really. The sexual tension? Oh, with a knife you could cut it, huh? Get a room. 

Angel: This seems a little sudden. 
Eve: Uh-huh. 
Angel: Mmm. I mean, do you even have a last name? 
Eve: Do you? 

Fred: So am I. I mean, wow. Wes. Wesley, I am totally drunk-faced. 
Wesley: Because you can't hold your— what are you drinking? 
Fred: Nothing. 
Wesley: You can't hold that. 

Wesley: Hey. Hey, Gunn. Is something weird going on? Charles, you just peed on my shoes. 
Gunn: I'll be damned. That's weird. 

Spike: This might be the greatest song ever written. 
Wesley: Yes. We appear to be under the effect of something, a spell. 
Gunn: Spike, how long have you been, you know... this? 
Spike: It's great, isn't it? I don't know. Happened a bit after I talked with Angel and Lorne. Yeah. Lorne told me to think positively. 

Spike: Hey! Angel's getting some! Good on you, mate. 

Wesley: Everything he's told us to do, we're doing. Spike's thinking positive, Gunn is peeing all over the office. 
Fred: And we're a little bit drunk. 
Wesley: Yes. But not because we drank, because Lorne told us to be drunk. 
Angel: Lorne told you to pee all over the office? 
Gunn: Lord, I hope so. 

Angel: Wes, Fred, go find Lorne's sleep and figure out a way to put it back in his head.
Wesley: Yes, sir. 
Fred: Done and doner. 

Lorne: Angel, we still got a party going on. Someone has to make sure there's ice in the drinks. 
Angel: Oh, right. 
Spike: Ooh, ooh! Me! Me! I'm your people person. 
Angel: Gunn, go on the floor, see if anyone else is under the Lorne effect. 
Gunn: Check. 
Angel: And stop with the— 
Gunn: Do my best. 
Angel: And, Eve, you stay here with me, and we'll have more sex. 
Eve: I'm on it. 
Spike: Brilliant plan. Excellent. 

Fred: You know, share stuff, talk to each other, tell each other what we're thinking. 
Wesley: Yes, that would be—I would— 
Fred: It would be nice. We could be confidantes. Confiding confidentially. 
Wesley: I've been wanting to do that for some time now. 
Fred: What do you think of Knox? 

Harmony: Oh, my God! 
Lorne: It's me. 

Spike: That's one bitchin' big suit. 

Lorne: Stop it! Stop killing! Listen to me. Me! Wow, I must really hate myself. 

Wesley: Come on, come on, come on. 
Fred: Did you press— 
Wesley: Oh. Yeah. Come on, come on, come on. 

Gunn: Pretty damn good party, though. I'll see you tomorrow— well, today, but later. Oh, and your chair. 
Angel: What? 
Gunn: Don't sit in it. I already called janitorial. 
Angel: Why can't I— 
Spike: You pissed in the big man's chair? That's fantastic! 
Angel: Spike, can you please turn off that warm fuzzy? 
Spike: What, the Lorne thing? Wore off. I just think that's bloody fabulous. 
Angel: All right, guys, good night. Let Lorne get some sleep, all right? Out. 

Lorne: Mmm. I'm sorry. 
Angel: Hey, it's OK, Lorne. Just try and get some rest. Get some sleep. 
Lorne: It's—it's hard. It's hard being the host of the party. Yeah.
Angel: Stop trying to be.

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6. The Cautionary Tale of Numero Cinco

Lorne: OK, um, professional opinion? Uh...sexy soccer mama or brainy beauty? You're an aging sexpot celebrating a decade of turning 29. You got 2 little rugrats that aren't that little, a husband who thinks the extras trailer is a buffet table, and gravity ain't doing you any favors. So "Happy Birthday, Sexy Mama" or... Fred. Hey, Fred, sweetie, you're sorta like a woman. 
Fred: Oh, that's... not a compliment. 

Lorne: Oh, you're all woman. You're everywoman. You're Wonder Woman!
Fred: Damn straight. 

Gunn: Look, I know legal weasels and business deals aren't as heroic to you as rescuing young honeys from tumescent trolls, but I love what we do. 
Angel: Tumescent...trolls? 
Gunn: Went a little Johnnie Cochran on ya. You know, for the first time in my life, I can't wait to get to work in the morning. You've always had your special powers. Now I have mine. Spike: Isn't that special! We all have special powers. Anybody wanna trade? I'll swap ya two-for-one. Walking through walls, picking up mugs... 
in exchange for... I don't know, how about me not being dead? 
Angel: How about you not being here? 
Spike: If wishes were horses... 

Angel: Ow! 
Wesley: What happened? 
Angel: The mail guy threw me. 
Gunn: What?! 
Spike: Number 5?! He did this? Isn't he like 100 years old? 
Angel: Kinda hard to tell with the mask. 

Spike: Hey! Fred! Did ya hear? Angel attacked the old mail guy. 
Angel: What?! 
Fred: Not number 5? You didn't hurt him? 
Angel: No. I— He attacked me. 

Lorne: Holy tornado! It's true! 
Spike: Yeah. It was amazing. Angel went right off on the mail guy. 
Lorne: Oh, this must've been one major smackdown. 
Angel: There was no smacking. 
Lorne: That's not the hubbub I'm hearing, honeybuns. Word on the web has you sucker-punching Grandpa Moses. 
Angel: The web? 
Lorne: Don't sweat it, sweetie pie. I've got my flak catcher spinning this into P.R. gold. Once the word spreads you beat up an innocent old man, well, the truly terrible will think twice before going toe-to-toe with our avenging Angel. 
Spike: Yes. The geriatric community will be soiling their nappies when they hear you're on the case. Bravo. 

Gunn: Still not sure why blondie ghost tagged along. 
Spike: Not much choice really, is there? Can't drink, smoke, diddle my willy. Doesn't leave much to do other than watch you blokes stumble around playing Agatha Christie. 
Wesley: Yeah, remind me again how you ended up in the front seat. 
Spike: Called shotgun, mate. 
Wesley: Oh. I thought we were doing a weapons check.

Gunn: How you like that, sparky? OK, so next time, I hold onto the axe. 

Fred: Come on. You saved the world, sacrificed yourself, closed a hellmouth. 
Spike: Didn't do much, really. I just stood there... let the fire come. Nothin' real heroic about that. 
Fred: Well, you did save my life. 
Spike: Well, when you say it like that... 

Wesley: It tells of an epic, apocalyptic battle and a vampire with a soul who plays a major role in that battle. And there's the suggestion that the vampire will get to live again. 
Spike: When you say, "plays a major role in an apocalyptic battle," you mean like, um... heroically closing a hellmouth that was about to destroy the world? 
Wesley: The text isn't specific about the battle. 
Spike: But it's specific about the name of the vampire with a soul. 
Wesley: No, I imagine it could be any vampire with a soul... ...who isn't a ghost. 

Angel: Hi. Unh! Stop doing that. 
Number 5: Perhaps I wasn't clear in our last conversation. 
Angel: What conversation? You threw me through a window. 
Number 5: I heard you speaking. You were going to drag me into your quest for the Aztec demon. 
Angel: No, I wasn't. I was gonna give you some mail. 
Number 5: Oh. Sorry. 
Angel: Now I'm dragging you back in. 

Number 5: Surely you have heard about our great victory over the devil's robot? 
Angel: Sorry. 
Number 5: Nobody remembers the good stuff. 

Angel: But you didn't. You got stuck with the hard part, the carrying-on. No wonder your brothers' spirits never come to visit. Listen to yourself. You've quit. Tell me: Why'd you stop caring? 
Number 5: It was not hard. I will show you. 

Angel: You made a difference in the lives you saved. And you did it because... it was the right thing to do. Nobody asks us to go out and fight, put our lives on the line. We do it because we can, 'cause we know how. We do it whether people remember us or not, in spite of the fact that there's no shiny reward at the end of the day... other than the work itself. I think some part of you still knows that, still believes in being a hero. Then again, maybe not. 

Wesley: I'd forgotten that Aztec culture was so violent.
Gunn: Yeah, 'cause our culture's so at peace. 
Wesley: All right, but by and large, we don't eat our victims. 

Angel: The reason why I know this Aztec demon is not eating the hearts of heroes is... he didn't take mine. Am I honestly supposed to believe that it had no problem sticking a sword in my stomach but then decided, "Oh, wait, his heart's not heroic enough"? Ha! I don't think so. 

Angel: What are you saying? 
Gunn: As meat goes, your heart's a dried-up hunk of gnarly-ass beef jerky

Angel: Of course not. The prophecies are nonsense. You know that. Oh, come on, Wes, after everything we've seen the past couple of years? "The father will kill the son." 
Wesley: What are you talking about? 

Spike: Oh, see! Drama queen. 

Number 5: You are one strange man, Señor Angel. 
Angel: I'm not the one in a mask standing in a cemetery in the middle of the night. 

Number 4: Amigo... andale. 
Angel: We're trying to kill it, not pin it. 
Angel: OK. Pinning works. Hey. 

Number 5: Mis hermanos, they came back. 
Angel: Because you're worthy. You proved it. 
Number 5: Maybe. But still the demon did not want my heart. 
Angel: He didn't want mine, either. 
Number 5: Of course not, amigo. Who would want that dried-up walnut of a dead thing? 

Fred: So number 5, he jumped in and helped at the end? 
Angel: He died a hero.

back to the top

7. Lineage

Wesley: If I'd known this was going to be a seminar, I'd have worn my name tag. 

Emil: God... You are making me so hot right now. 
Fred: Wow. Turned on by a woman holding an enormous gun. What a surprise. 

Fred: Yes, thank you, Wesley. I'd love a gun. 

Wesley: Fred has more than proven herself in the field. There was no reason to think— 
Angel: We found her bleeding to death on the ground. From now on, you clear it with me before using any of my people. 
Wesley: Your people? 
Angel: Got it? 

Angel: He can be careless. 
Eve: Focuses too much on the big picture? Overlooks the people involved? 
Angel: Something like that. 
Eve: Willing to risk anything... or anyone... for the greater good. Look, hey... I'm just asking. Could it be there's another reason you're getting so mad at him about this? Mmm... stealing your son, for instance? 
Angel: We don't talk about my son.

Eve: Is it? Or are you worried about the next time Wesley betrays you trying to do "the right thing"? 

Fred: Listen to you. You're blaming yourself because poor Fred got hurt. Stop trying to be all valiant. You're coming off like a self-pitying child. 
Wesley: Hello, father. 
Fred: Oh, yeah, that's mature. Well, I wish I was your father. I'd tell you to grow up. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: It doesn't work. I've tried.

Roger Wyndham-Pryce: Not necessarily. Your name's proven to be a point of contention. There is some who believe that your tenure as watcher ranks as our most embarrassing failure. 
Wesley: Really? I beat out everybody dying in an explosion as most embarrassing failure. 

Lorne: You're killing me. If Louis Gossett, Jr. wants this foam party to happen, he'll keep his mouth zipped tight. I've been working on this guest list all week. Yes, my entire week. I don't care about Iron Eagle II, Van. Nobody did. Oh, no. Don't tell him that. Wesley Wyndam-Price, you should be ashamed. I didn't know you had a younger brother. 
Wesley: Lorne. Yes. This is my father, Roger Wyndham-Price. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: How do you do? 
Lorne: A father? Well, I don't believe it. Well, OK, I do believe it, but only 'cause I heard you were in the building. Ha ha ha. Well, look at you. It's like Winston Churchill and a young Richard Harris had a beautiful love child, which, according to my sources, may not be as ridiculous as it sounds. 

Spike: Daddy, eh? I always thought Wesley was grown in some sort of greenhouse for dandies. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: Spike. 
Spike: You've heard of me? 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: No. We've met. 1963. My colleagues and I fell upon you slaughtering an orphanage in Vienna. Killed 2 of my men before you escaped. 
Spike: Oh... how've you been? 

Angel: I didn't know your father was coming to visit, Wesley. I'm Angel. Pleasure to meet you. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: Do you really expect me to shake that? 
Angel: I'm not real comfortable with hugging. No. I realize this may be somewhat of a horror show to you. But I hope you can keep an open mind. We really are doing good work here. 

Angel: What happened? 
Spike: I can explain. Apparently, when Percy here was younger, he used to be known as "head boy." 
Angel: Yeah. I already knew that. 
Spike: Right. I have nothing else to report. 

Lorne: So I am covered in cherries. The police are just pounding on the door, and Judi Dench starts screaming, "oh, that's way too much to pay for a pair of pants!" Ha ha ha! 

Spike: I'm finished here, too. If you want, I can have someone type up the report about head boy. 
Angel: Get out. 
Spike: Suit yourself. 

Angel: Yeah, well, your father's visit just rattled you. 
Wesley: I find it hard to think straight when he's around. 
Angel: Fathers and sons. That can be torture sometimes.

Wesley: You want to talk about me. All right. The last girl I was with I had to chop into little tiny pieces because a higher power saw fit to stab her in the neck. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: You don't want to discuss it. Fine. But spare me the sarcasm. It's too embarrassing. 

Spike: Not to sound self-absorbed, but you can't seem to keep your eyes off me. 

Spike: I know what this is. You'll never take me to hell, Pavayne! Oh. Well, that's just something I say... when, uh... it gets dark. 

Spike: Gunn! 
Gunn: Spike... what are you— 
Spike: Sorry. I have to concentrate. Shh. Don't talk. 

Spike: Oh, uh, Eve's stuck in the elevator. 
Gunn: So tell maintenance. 
Spike: Right. Well, where the bloody hell is maint— Oh, to be honest, I don't even care. 

Roger Wyndham-Pryce: Walk away from this, Wesley. You'll never understand what we're trying to do here. 
Wesley: You're using the Staff of Devosynn to take Angel's will, make him your slave. Your cyborgs panic a bit too easily. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: That creature is more dangerous to mankind than you realize. 
Wesley: You're wrong about him. He's not what you think. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: He's a puppet. He always has been. To the Powers That Be, to Wolfram & Hart. Now he's ours. 
Wesley: You went to a lot of trouble to get this staff. You had us attacked, you smuggled in a weapon...you brought in an army so you could escape. I don't know why you're doing all this, but did you ever once consider there might be another way? Did you ever once consider talking to me about it? 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: No. You've failed me enough for one lifetime. 

Wesley: Maybe I know what I'm doing. Why can't you trust that? 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: You disgrace yourself with the council, you join forces with him, and you have the nerve to ask me why I can't trust you? 
Wesley: I've done everything you ever asked, and I've done it well. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: I asked for this, hmm? I wanted to be humiliated? 
Wesley: No, I suppose I don't know what you really wanted. You never had any use for me as a child, and you can't bear the thought of me as an adult. Tell me, father, what is it that galls you so, that I was never as good at the job as you... or that I just might be better? 

Roger Wyndham-Pryce: Do you know how powerful that thing is? 
Wesley: I don't care. 
Roger Wyndham-Pryce: I will kill you for it. Please believe me. 
Wesley: Oh, I believe you. I was raised by you, after all. But I drop this, the crystal shatters, and Angel is restored. So I reckon whether I live or die, your plan has failed. 

Wesley: How are you doing? 
Angel: Well, you know that worst part about losing your free will? 
Wesley: Having no control over your body? 
Angel: Well, there's that and... you get really nauseous. 

Angel: Well, like I said... don't beat yourself up. Oh... you know... I killed my actual dad. It was one of the first things I did when I became a vampire. 
Wesley: I hardly see how that's the same situation. 
Angel: Yeah. I didn't really think that one through. 

Spike: Heard what happened up top, offing your dad and all. Don't know if you know this, but, uh... I killed my mum. Actually, I'd already killed her, and then she tried to shag me, so I had to— 
Wesley: Thank you. I'm...very comforted. Right. 

Wesley: No. I was sure it was him. You were there. I killed my father. 
Fred: He was threatening your friends. 
Wesley: He was threatening you. He pointed a gun at you, Fred... so I shot him. 
Fred: Wesley...I...

back to the top

8. Destiny

William: Angelus? Who the bloody hell's Ang—? 
Drusilla: Look what I made. It's called Willy. 
William: William. 

William: Touch me again— 
Angelus: Don't mistake me. I do love the ladies. It's just lately... I've been wondering... what it'd be like... to share the slaughter of innocents... with another man. Don't... don't think that makes me some kind of a deviant, hmm? Do you? 

Spike: You selfish sod. The rest of your lot get to go home to their nice and cozies. Me? I gotta nest in somebody else's roost. It's not bleeding right. 
Angel: You don't work here. You haunt this place—and annoy me. That's all. 

Spike: Well, that was a slap and a tickle. 
Harmony: There's nothing— Morning, Wolfram and—aah!
Spike: Any more fireworks for me, I'll be in here telling your boss what a miserable bastard— Bugger! That hurt. Hold on...

Angel: Hey. Stop touching me. 

Angelus: She's special, isn't she? Our Drusilla. 
William: More than that. She brought me into this world. Where I was meant to be. It's like... she's my destiny. 

Gunn: She's off having a nooner with Blondie Bear, remember? 
Fred: She's what? 
Gunn: You know, "nooner." When you have sex in the middle of— 

Eve: Upshot is we've got trouble with a capital "T," and that rhymes with "P," and that stands for "prophecy." Shanshu. Maybe you've heard of it? 
Angel: Oh, God. That again. Yeah, I'm familiar. So? 

Lorne: Yeah, well, then I see Mr. Considerate here, covered in blood, making mashed potatoes out of this fella. And before I could get to, "What's wrong with this picture?" He clocks me right in the coconut. 

Spike: Had to put her porch lights out. For the best. I'm sure you understand. 
Angel: Oh, yeah. You're a real hero. 
Eve: And that's our problem in a nutshell. 

Spike: Well, screw this town, then. Screw this devil's funhouse, Angel. And screw you for good measure. I think I'll take the new flesh and bones across the pond back to Europe. 

Gunn: I miss Wesley. 

Spike: Yello. 
Angel: You took my Viper. 
Spike: My Viper now, mate. Possession's 9/10s. Oughta know that, running a law firm and such.

Spike: Ponce. 
Angel: Idiot. 

Gunn: Yeah, I know she's a vampire. Just shoot her up with some elephant tranqs and put her in some kind of restraints. Uh...yeah. Whatever. That's OK. Just, look get it done. Over and, you know, out. 

Gunn: Playing like you're just a fresh young thing from Santa Cruz who somehow winds up connected to the senior partners of Evil, Incorporated. 
Eve: Never said I was from Santa Cruz. Just went to school there. And if we're talking about being connected, Charles, you're the guy that talks to the cat upstairs. I think that makes you a lot more connected to this place than I'll ever be. As far as the senior partners are concerned, I'm just a messenger. 
Gunn: Right. And I'm just a mild-mannered attorney. Don't be fingerin' the robots.

Spike: Saved the world, didn't I? 
Angel: Once. Talk to me after you've done it a couple more times. 

Angelus: I'm sure he did, Dru. After all... you are his destiny. 
Drusilla: Oh. That's so sweet. 

Spike: Come on! Let's see how much soul you really got in there. 
Angel: Spike, we don't have time for this. 
Spike: Keep your knickers dry, Sally. You're not gonna last that long. 
Angel: Fine. We'll do it your way. 

Spike: Ha ha ha ha! Oh, yeah. Look at you. Thinking you're the big savior—fighting for truth, justice, and soccer moms—but you still can't lay flesh on a cross without smelling like bacon, can you? 
Angel: Like you're any different. 
Spike: Well, that's just it. I am. And you know it. You had a soul forced on you—as a curse. Make you suffer for all the horrible things you'd done. But me... I fought for my soul. Went through the demon trials. Almost did me in a dozen times over, but I kept fighting. 'Cause I knew it was the right thing to do. It's my destiny. 
Angel: Really? Heard it was just to get into a girl's pants. 

Gunn: Why are you answering her questions, Fred? We don't trust this bitch. She'll kill us all. 
Fred: Gunn! 
Gunn: What are you, huh? 
Fred: Gunn, no! What's really in there, huh? Huh?! Well, heh, guess you gotta breathe. Good to know. 
Gunn: You liar! You think we don't know that you're behind this, that you've been playin' us?! What are you, huh? Show me! What are you—a monster? Show me! 

Drusilla: William, don't play such a sad tune. Give us a kiss, then. 
William: Why did you...? You knew. You knew she was mine. 
Angelus: Did I? 

Spike: 'Cause every time you look at me... you see all the dirty little things I've done, all the lives I've taken... because of you! Drusilla sired me... but you... you made me a monster. 
Angel: I didn't make you, Spike. I just opened up the door... and let the real you out. 

Eve: Oh, come on, Fred. I know what you think of me. What you all... 
Fred: Look, what Charles said, about us thinking you're behind... you know, everything. He was under the effects— Eve. 
Eve: I am not the bad guy. 

Angel: Spike, wait. Wait. That's not a prize you're holding. It's not a trophy. It's a burden. It's a cross. One you're gonna have to bear till it burns you to ashes. Believe me. I know. So ask yourself: Is this really the destiny that was meant for you? Do you even really want it? Or is it that you just want to take something away from me? 

Fred: Angel. God, what happened? 
Angel: I fell down... some stairs. Big stairs.

Spike: Yeah, well... meantime... this souled ex-ghost vampire's got some corporeal drinking to catch up on. What do ya say, Charlie-boy? Feel like gettin' pissed? 
Gunn: No. No, my head feels like it's gonna split open and toss my toys and candy all over the floor. 
Spike: You're way ahead of me. Fair enough. 

Angel: I don't know. He beat me, Gunn. 
Gunn: Who, Spike? Looks to me like he got as good as he— 
Angel: No. He beat me to the cup. 
Gunn: You mean the fake cup? The make-believe, fairy-tale cup? So what?! 
Angel: No, you don't... He won the fight, Gunn... for the first time. Doesn't matter if the cup is real or not. In the end, he... Spike was stronger. He wanted it more. 
Gunn: Angel, it doesn't mean anything. 
Angel: What if it does? What if it means that... I'm not the one? 

Lindsey: Well... it's a start.

back to the top

9. Harm's Way

Harmony: So, you've got the department heads at 11:00, your 1:00 with Mistress Shriva from human—I'm sorry—non-human resources got moved to 2:00. Swung by the cleaners. Zippo luck getting out the Frophla slime. Oh, and I took care of the catering for the big feuding demon clan confab, unless you have any requests. 
Angel: Achite vong mochzinite.
Harmony: Y'OK. Could you spell that? 

Harmony: I just—I don't get it. Why'd you kill Eli? 
Angel: Didn't much like what he was doing in his off hours. 
Harmony: Well, that's not right. What Eli did on his own time— 
Gunn: Is dismember virgins. 
Harmony: Oh. Well, a person's religious beliefs is no cause for— 
Gunn: He did it for his own amusement. 

Gunn: Hardest part of the job, terminating an employee. 
Spike: Once again, keeping corporate America safe from evil.

Wesley: You're leaving? 
Spike: You catch on quick, don't you? Yeah, I thought I'd push off, seeing as how I got somebody waiting for me.
Wesley: Angel, I'm not sure that's wise, given the Shanshu prophecy is still unresolved— 
Spike: That's your problem, mate. You're welcome to that heroic destiny, whether you deserve it or not. Me, I got better things to do than wait around for the 4 bloody horsemen. 
Wesley: Spike... 
Angel: Let him go. 
Spike: Yeah. Here's the thing. Could use a little walkin'-around money. How 'bout a few hundred? 
Angel: How 'bout no? 
Spike: Typical, you cheap sod. Right, then. Settle for some wheels. 
Angel: If it's gonna get you out of here faster, fine. Just not the Viper. 
Spike: Viper it is, then. Any message for Buffy? 
Angel: Tell her you're a moron. 

Spike: Fred... I want you to know... uh, I mean, all that work you put in trying to, you know, cure me of the ghosties... 
Fred: I didn't do anything. 
Spike: Oh, you did. You—you believed in m... I mean, you tried. I won't forget that. 
Fred: You're welcome. 

Spike: Keep it simple, Harm. It suits you. 

Wesley: This is a complete list of manners and customs. We should probably all memorize this. Apparently, gazing at a Vinji's ankles can lead to eye gouging. 

Fred: My lab managed that upgrade to the weapons scanner, like you requested. 
Angel: Foolproof? 
Fred: I'd say yes, but then some fool would just come along and sneak something past us, but it's still state of the art. 

Harmony: You don't know the half of it. I've been doing a whole bunch of research on these guys, their customs and stuff? Did you know that they think poodles are wicked bad luck? 
Wesley: Harmony, I'm glad you're here. We'll be needing lunch. 

Angel: Harmony, uh, got us a camel. 
Harmony: Like I said, I did a lot of research. Camel meat's a delicacy, so I thought it would be a great way to kick off the summit, 'cause of the clans being so uptight? Like... comfort food. 
Angel: Comfort food. 
Harmony: Uh-huh! And as host, you get the honor of slicing off its hump and sticking a hot poker through its heart. And then the demon leaders rip apart its carcass with their bare hands. 

Fred: I don't hate you. I—I mean, it's just I—I don't know you that well and— 
Harmony: What are you doing after work? 

Harmony: I just wish I were more like you. You know, except for the part about being all into science... and not having a lot up front. I mean, you have 2 hot guys after you. 
Fred: I do? 
Harmony: All the girls, they think it's Knox and Gunn. Course, I know it's Knox and Wesley, not that they listen. It is Knox and Wes, right? 
Fred: Yeah—I mean, no. I—I don't know. I—we all work together, and there's a lot of baggage, and... Why am I telling you this? 
Harmony: Because we're totally bonding! We're like gal pals! This is awesome! You can teach me about life, and I can teach you how to dress better.

Harmony: Oh, crapola! 

Harmony: Desk crunches. "Get fit while you sit." You should see my abs. You wanna? Mug o' blood, coming right up, boss. 

Angel: I can't afford to have anything go wrong today. 
Harmony: What could go wrong? 

Harmony: OK... I remember the talking. "Hi, I'm Harmony." "You look thirsty." "Well, why don't I drink a couple quarts of your blood, then, Tom...Terry..." Uhh! Drinking. That's my problem. Too much drinking. I don't even remember taking him home. Damn lemon drops. I never should have— Fred! She made me talk to him! She's responsible for— 

Angel: Be disemboweled.
Vinji Leader: Filthy man whore! How dare you! You—
Gunn: He meant, be patient! The whore man is a novice in your tongue and makes foolish errors. We make fun of him, yes?

Harmony: OK, that's it. I gotta get out of here, leave the country. Maybe Mexico. Yeah, I like Mexico. Or Cancun, I hear that's... anyway, I'll... I'll start over, change my name. Harmonita—that's kind of pre— Bitten on the right. He was bitten on the right! Oh, my God! I didn't do it! 

Harmony: I'm totally sorry I have to do this, and you guys are being super understanding. It's just till I clear my name. I so owe you guys dinner. 

Tamika: You don't remember? Think steno pool. I sat next to you. 
Harmony: Sambuca. 
Tamika: Tamika! 
Harmony: Right! 

Harmony: That is just... ugh! I am so gonna kick your ass! 
Tamika: Dust can't kick! 

Harmony: You're gonna tell Angel the truth! 
Tamika: You want to know the first thing I'm gonna do when I get your desk? Smash all of those stupid, ugly-ass unicorns! 

Spike: I was on my way. Had a boat ticket and all. Then I put a little thinking into it. A man can't go out in a bloody blaze of glory, savin' the world, and then show up 3 months later, tumbling off a cruise ship in the south of France. I mean, I'd love to, don't get me wrong, but, uh, it's hard to top an exit like that. 
Harmony: Come on. Girls don't care about stuff like that. Just one look at you, and she'll forget herself, and she'll get all tingly, and it won't matter how horribly you treated her in the past and how you took her for granted, and... 
Spike: I never took her for gr— Oh. I expect Buffy would be happy enough to see me. It's just, I gave up my life for her, the world, and if I show up now, flesh and bone, my grand finale won't hold much weight. All of it... won't matter.

Spike: Oh, come on, Harm, you matter to someone. 
Harmony: I do? 
Spike: Yeah. Girl tried to frame you, didn't she? Must have mattered to her. Everybody's talking about it. 
Harmony: You're right. That girl hated me. She wanted me dead. I matter. 

back to the top

10. Soul Purpose

Angel: Spike... Spike, wait. That's not a prize you're holding. It's not a trophy. It's a burden. It's a cr— 
Spike: Blah, blah, blah. Give it a rest, hero. I win, you lose, and all your talking's not gonna change that. 
Angel: It's not your destiny. It's mine. 

Lindsey: A guy like you, whiling away his time in some cheesy downtown strip dive. Look like somebody who's feeling kinda lost. 
Spike: Is that right? Funny, thought I knew exactly where I was. Place called the Peppermint Stick. Prima ballerina up there's Sunshine. Though I'm fairly certain that's not her real name. 

Spike: Enough with the cryptic, butch. I want to know who......or what you are... what you want, and how fast I can snap your forearm before you answer. 
Lindsey: You can call me Doyle. But it's not what I want... it's what you want. You got your life back now. What are you gonna do about it? 

Gunn: I don't plan on waiting. 
Wesley: Really? What is your plan? 
Gunn: We open a can of Machiavelli on his ass. 
Harmony: It's Matchabelli, Einstein, and it doesn't come in a can. 
Gunn: Is he in? 
Harmony: Is who in? 

Wesley: Yes, oddly, once again we find ourselves in a bit of a gray— 
Angel: Don't... 
Wesley: —area.
Angel: ...say that! Can we just get through one damn day without saying that? OK. Explain it to me again. 

Spike: Hey, you are barking up the wrong vampire. That's Angel's beat. 
Lindsey: Angel's not in the picture anymore. All right? He's working the other side of the tracks. Nobody is out there helping the people that really need help. 
Spike: What, so I'm supposed to jump every time you get a vision of someone in dire peril? 
Lindsey: Why do you think we're having this conversation? I had one right before I came here. You don't have to believe me, but if a young girl gets murdered tonight and you didn't lift a finger to stop it, ask yourself... can you live with that? 

Girl: Thank you! Thank you! That thing was gonna kill me! 
Spike: Well, what do you expect? Out alone in this neighborhood? I got half a mind to kill you myself, you half-wit. 
Girl: What?! 
Spike: I mean, honestly, what kind of retard wears heels like that in a dark alley? Take 2 steps, break your bloody ankle. 
Girl: I was just trying to get home. 
Spike: Well, get a cab, you moron. And on the way, if a stranger offers you candy, don't get in the van! Stupid cow. 

Fred: Well, we do have an orbital-range microwave cannon up there. Focuses the satellite's communications signals into a pinpoint beam. It can raise the temperature of the targeted area 1,000 degrees in less than 5 seconds. So, yeah, in theory, we could. That is, if we did that sort of thing. Do we do that sort of thing? 

Angel: I, uh, I think... I—I think I'm sick. 
Wesley: Vampires don't get sick. 
Angel: I don't feel right. 
Wesley: Well, that's understandable. You've got a lot on your mind. Must be hard adjusting to the new situation. 
Angel: Situation? 
Wesley: Finally coming to grips with the truth... that you're irrelevant. 
Angel: What? 
Wesley: It's difficult to face, I know. But things could've been much worse. Spike's arrival's actually quite fortuitous. It'll make this a lot easier. 
Angel: Wha—what? What are you— Aah! 

Harmony: I'm not allowed to talk to accounting without Angel's approval. I accidentally authorized a few bath-of-the-month subscriptions. On accident. 

Harmony: Any business with the senior partners, I'm supposed to tell Angel immediately. 
Wesley: I'll take care of it, Harmony. 
Harmony: Also, any time something comes in with runes on it, I'm supposed to tell Angel immediately... and not try and read the runes myself... 'cause that can cause a fire. 
Wesley: As soon as we have some answers, we'll fill him in. Until then, I think Angel deserves some peace and quiet.

Fred: There's your liver. Oh, there's your kidneys. Oh, don't worry. You're a vampire. You don't need this stuff anyway. Probably should've had it removed a long time ago. Oop. Ah! There's your heart. Hey! What do you know? It is a dried-up little walnut. So far so good. Let's see... Oop. Raisins. Unh! Hmm. Came up the gulf stream, huh? Oh. Hang on. Oh. There's your soul! Ooh. We're gonna have to flush this. Unh. Thank you, bear. Huh! 

Fred: Always takes me a few days to get back in the swing of things, myself. Um...you should put on a clean shirt, though. 
Gunn: Hey, guys. Come on. You'll miss it. 

Lorne: Hey...down in front! 
Harmony: Yeah, Angel. You're blocking the apocalypse. 

Spike: Well, this is, uh... Thank you, everyone. Um...I don't know what to say. I'm just a... working-class bloke fulfilling his destiny. It was nothing, really. 

Spike: Look...I told Angel, and I'll tell you. A place like that doesn't change... not from the inside. Not from the out. You sign on there, it changes you. Puts things in your head. Spins your compass needle around till you can't cross the street without tripping the proverbial old lady and stepping on her glasses. And it's not like I wasn't there, gents, like I wasn't watching you. Had to haunt the damn place. Remember? 

Angel: Lorne? 
Lorne: Oh, round these parts, folks call me Honky-Tonk. 

Angel: I think... I think I'm lost. 
Lorne: Order a drink! 
Angel: Everything hurts. 
Lorne: Now you're gettin' it. Everything hurts, and then we die. Or in your case, everything hurts and... then you go on... and on... and on... and on. 
Angel: I don't know what to do. 
Lorne: Why don't you give me an earful of them pretty pipes of yours? Let me suss it out. Well, sing out, Louise. 

Lindsey: You this prickly with all your friends? 
Spike: I'm soft on the inside. 

Spike: That'll be a bitch of a clean-up. 
Angel: Spike? 
Spike: No need to thank me. Just helping the helpless. 

Angel: It seemed...real. All of it. You were dissecting me, taking things out of me, and there was this...bear. You called yourself Honky-Tonk, tried to get me to sing, but... You were big with the heckling. 
Gunn: Uh...sorry? 

Angel: You. You brought it. 
Eve: Me?
Angel: You were here. 
Eve: I had a cameo in your little dream sequence? That's so sweet. 

Angel: Don't know, Eve. But I'm pretty sure the senior partners didn't give me the reins to their law firm just to turn me into a vegetable. Playing your own game here? What do you think the partners'll do to you after they find out about your little extracurricular activities? 
Eve: So things aren't going your way, and you're looking for someone outside your little circle to blame. Here's a thought. Maybe you should try looking inward... unless you don't like what you see.

back to the top

11. Damage

Fred: You sure 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 a golf course. 
Fred: You play golf? Since—what?

Wesley: This isn't a courtroom, Gunn. Things work with a bit more immediacy in the real world. 
Gunn: She's liaison to the senior partners. You don't get to be that without serious juice. Move against her without solid proof and it could end in a long, bloody fight. 
Angel: OK, fine. I think I liked you better when you just wanted to hit people. 
Gunn: Rational thought—it's an acquired taste.

Lorne: Wait a minute. So, we're not going to snap Twiggy into little sticks?

Harmony: A girl over in the nuthouse went all Cuckoo's Nest, hacked up a couple of guards and went over the wall. 
Angel: Really not our department, Harmony. 
Wesley: 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: Didn't get the memo? Hero of the people now. 
Angel: Oh, then go and annoy them. 

Spike: No, I'm doing. You can hang out for the show-and-tell-me-nothing. I got a demon needs repossessing. Ta. 
Angel: Sorry. He's... is pathological idiot an actual condition? 

Dr. Rabinaw: May I suggest that you stop your friend? If he finds Dana, he's gonna end up dead like the others. 
Angel: Yeah, but he'll just end up comin' back. 

Spike: Oh, yeah. Look at the big, bad demon hidin' inside the helpless little girl. Why don't you come on out of there, and let's have a proper go, mate? Or you could do that. 

Angel: What happened? 
Spike: Oh, I just thought I'd see what it was like to bounce off the pavement. Pretty much what I expected. 

Spike: A psychotic vampire slayer. 
Angel: How many times you gonna keep sayin' that? 
Spike: Just tryin' to wrap my lobes around it. A psycho slayer. 

Andrew: Spike?
Spike: Oh, for the love of— 
Andrew: Spike? It's you. It's really you! My therapist thought I was holding onto 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. Ohh... he's alive, Frodo. He's alive.

Andrew: I'll take it from here, Pryce. Best they hear it from an expert. 
Spike: Oh, right. Let the top man have a go. 
Wesley: Please... enlighten us. 
Andrew: Gather around and attend to a most unusual tale... a tale I like to call... The Slayer of the Vampyrs. 

Wesley: The dreams of slayers are usually just that—dreams. But Dana's mental instability may be making them seem more real. 
Andrew: My hypothesis exactly, Pryce. I see Mr. Giles may have been wrong about you. 

Lorne: Houses have long memories, Angel cakes. You just gotta know how to get 'em to talk. 
Angel: All right. Fine. Set it up. But let's get Andrew in on this, see if he knows... anything.

Spike: Right. We can play cat and mouse all night. Or I could wedgie you unconscious and be done with it. 
Andrew: Bravo. I see your senses seem to be as well-honed as your Viggo Mortensen pectorals. 

Spike: "Hello, Buffy. It's Spike. I didn't burn up like you thought. How are things?" 

Lorne: You got it, chief. Danny! We're gonna need a whip! 

Dana: Heart...and head. Have to get home. Doesn't hurt if you hold still. 

Spike: You little minx. What did you do to me? 
Dana: Yellows make you weak. Not weak anymore. 
Spike: Ohh! Ouahh! All right. Now you've made me mad. 
Dana: Don't cry. They can't hear you.

Angel: Dana...look, I'm here to help you. The man who tried to hurt you? His name is Walter Kindel. He tried to rob a liquor store 5 years ago, and the police shot him. He—he's dead, Dana. 
Dana: Hold still. 
Angel: He can't hurt you anymore. 
Dana: Can't hurt me. Not weak anymore. 
Angel: That's right. 
Dana: Strong. Slayer. 

Andrew: That's all right, boys. I'll take it from here. 
Angel: What? 
Andrew: Totally 'preciate your help on this one, big guy. Never could've found her without you, but you got enough problems of your own to worry about. 
Angel: Get outta the way, Andrew. 
Andrew: She's a slayer. That means she's ours.

Angel: You're way outta your league. I'll just clear this with Buffy. 
Andrew: Where do you think my orders came from? News flash—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, uh...we got it. 

Angel: She's an innocent victim. 
Spike: So were we... once upon a time. 
Angel: Once upon a time.

back to the top

12. You're Welcome

Angel: He's a Wolfram & Hart client. Our client. Oh, and he's evil. What are the odds? 

Angel: That's it. 
Fred: But probably months, or maybe weeks if I really push— 
Angel: I can't do this anymore. 
Gunn: Do what? 
Angel: Any of this. Living with it. Running Wolfram & Hart. I quit. 

Angel: There's nothing more to discuss. I'm resigning. 
Lorne: Gee, it seems like a ripe topic for discussion to me.

Angel: Yeah. It's Angel. What? 
Wesley: What is it? 
Angel: It's Cordelia.

Angel: Cordelia? 
Cordelia: Yeah. That chick's in rough shape. You'd think they'd give miss one-foot-in-the- grave a private room... which brings me to, hey... couldn't you stick me someplace that smells a little less like ammonia-soaked death?

Wesley: It's extraordinary. You're— you look... I don't want to say really hot— 
Cordelia: Oh, yes, you do. I'm a vision of hotliness, and how weird is that? Mystical comas. You know, if you can stand the horror of a higher power hijacking your mind and body so that it can give birth to itself, I really recommend 'em.

Cordelia: Ooh! Great! Shopping! I love that idea, 'cause, you know, I'm not so ready to go back to the hotel yet.

Harmony: Aah! Oh, my God! I can't believe you're here! 
Cordelia: Likewise. Especially since the last time I saw you, you tried to kill me. 

Lorne: Hey, listen, crumbcake, when you're ready to splash back into that acting pool, just say the word. I'll have you lunching with Colin Farrell like that. 
Cordelia: Who's Colin Farrell?

Cordelia: I'm Cordelia Chase. 
Eve: Oh. My name is— 
Cordelia: I didn't ask. 

Cordelia: So you two are groin buddies? And I thought Darla was rock bottom. 
Angel: We're not. Just...once. There were special circumstances. Lorne told us to, but mystically.

Cordelia: Sorry. I was snooping. I found this. 
Angel: No, it's—it's OK. I just... You couldn't sleep? 
Cordelia: Oh. No sleep for me. I slept enough for one lifetime. 
Angel: Been a long while since I've seen that. 
Cordelia: The first soldier down. 

Cordelia: That's right, pal. They dazzled you with shiny objects and beautiful things and— There is no reason you could give me— 
Angel: Connor. 
Cordelia: Where is Connor? Why did Gunn ask— 
Angel: They don't remember him. It's part of my agreement to take this job. The senior partners altered reality. They gave Connor a life, a real family, and a childhood. Something I could never give him. He's got no memories of us. And no one remembers him. Except me and you. And Eve, for some reason. 
Cordelia: So, not only did you strike a deal with your worst enemy to give up your son, you let them rape the memories of your friends who trust you? 
Angel: He was about to kill you. And himself. He was so torn up. I didn't have any other way to stop him, any way to help him. Connor's happy now.

Cordelia: Don't give me that, "everything's fine here" company line. I'm not buying it. Neither are you. And neither are the Powers That Be. Why do you think they woke me up, gave me that vision? They know you slipped the track, and they want me to help put you back on it. 
Angel: You're wrong about the Powers. They're not in my corner anymore. It looks like Spike is their new champion. 
Cordelia: Spike? Spike who? 
Angel: Spike. He's got a soul now. And he saved the world. And he's out there on the streets. You know, helping the...helpless. 
Cordelia: OK, Spike's a hero, and you're C.E.O. of Hell, Incorporated. What freakin' bizarro world did I wake up in?

Cordelia: I naturally assumed you'd be lost without me, but this? 
Angel: I am lost without you. 
Cordelia: You just forgot who you are. 
Angel: Remind me.

Angel: Maybe we were meant to. Or maybe people like us just don't get to...have that. 
Cordelia: Angel, there are no people like us. 

Cordelia: Wes? Last year, when that, um, higher...whatever took over my body, did those things. Nobody's talking about it.
Wesley: What's to say? We all understand it wasn't you. 
Cordelia: Do you? 
Wesley: You didn't kill Lilah. 
Cordelia: I know. Still... I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you that before— 

Angel: Did you call me a tit?

Cordelia: I thought he had a soul. 
Spike: I thought she didn't. 
Cordelia: I do. 
Spike: So do I. 
Cordelia: Well, clearly, mine's better. 

Spike: I've got a guy. Has an in with the powers that whatsit. Gets these visions. 
Angel: Visions? 
Spike: Yeah. Said Cordelia was taken over by some big bad. Came to destroy you all. 
Cordelia: His vision's a rerun. 
Angel: The thing that possessed Cordy's long dead, Spike. 
Spike: Well, looks like tattoo boy was wrong this time. 
Cordelia: Wait. Tattoos? What kind of tattoos? 
Spike: I don't know. Symbols. Tribal-like. 
Angel: This guy with the visions, did he have a name? 
Spike: Called himself Doyle. 

Cordelia: Let's go, Lilah junior. 

Cordelia: Get out of that chair and I will feed you those Manolo Blahniks. Which are stunning, by the way. 

Harmony: Come on, you hussy! Spill it! 

Angel: Spike, I don't wanna go in blind. Anything else you know about this guy? 
Spike: Not much. Average size. Dressed like an urban cowboy. Got his hand chopped off once. 
Cordelia: His hand? 
Wesley: He's back. 
Angel: Lindsey.

Cordelia: Yeah, save it, Angel. You can order me around all you want, but I know my rights. And I wanna see a lawyer. 

Spike: Go on. I'll hold them back. Come on, lads. No need to be gentle. We're all dead men here.

Lindsey: Is this the part where I get all weak in the knees? Promise I'll never do it again? 
Angel: It's a little late for that, Doyle. 
Lindsey: There's always time for redemption. Isn't that your whole thing? 
Angel: You had your chance. I guess some people, they just never change. 

Angel: So go and get yourself a little mojo? Should never have come back, Lindsey. 
Lindsey: What can I say? I missed you. 

Wesley: "Sprinkle ingredients with the arterial blood of an unclean." A demon. 
Lorne: We're unclean? Like you're so April fre— You sure that thing said arterial blood? 
Wesley: Sorry. 
Lorne: Why don't they ever need the urine of an unclean? I've got plenty of unclean urine. Look. Uh... I think I'm making some right now.

Angel: All those tattoos, all those new tricks you've learned... just don't matter. Doesn't matter what you try. Doesn't matter where I am or how badass you think you've become. 'Cause you know what? I'm Angel. I beat the bad guys. 

Cordelia: Sweetie, your epidermis is showing. 

Cordelia: You guys go ahead. We'll catch up. Oh, and Wesley? You still work the best mojo in town. 
Lorne: I bleed from the neck, he gets the props.

Cordelia: Boy, I really do fall for the dumb ones. You know how you're always trying to save, oh, every single person in the world? Did it ever occur to you you were one of them? 
Angel: No, it never did. 
Cordelia: Well, you made the list, gorgeous. And you needed some help. 

Cordelia: I can't stay. This isn't me anymore. You can say good-bye to the gang for me, explain everything once you understand. 
Angel: That's gonna be never. I need you here. 
Cordelia: Don't make it hard, Angel. I'm just on a different road... and this is my off-ramp. The Powers That Be owed me one, and I didn't waste it. I got my guy back on track.

Cordelia: We take what we can get, champ, and we do our best with it. I'll be seeing you. Oh, what the hell. One for the road? 
Angel: You know, um... I don't...I don't need to get that. 
Cordelia: That you have to get. Oh... and you're welcome. 
Angel: Hello. Yes, I know. She's... but that's impossible. She's standing right— I'm sorry. Yeah. When did she die? Did she, um... she never did wake up? I see. Thank you.

back to the top

13. Why We Fight

Gunn: Tactical swept her hangouts, and our locators ran through their usual voodoo. Each came back with the same result: Eve has vanished. 
Angel: Well, I can't say I'm particularly depressed by that news. 

Gunn: Uh, no news, but goin' off of company precedent, right about now Lindsey should be boiling in his own filth. 

Lorne: Oh, calling the patient before midnight on a Friday? Careful, gang. We might get to have social lives. 

Fred: What did we do with our lives before we got these jobs? 
Wesley: I seem to recall lots and lots of Jenga.

Lawson: Please don't try and run, Ms. Burkle. I'd have to stop you. 
Fred: What do you want? 
Lawson: Actually, I came to see your boss. Angel and I are... old acquaintances. I was friends with him back in the day, back when he was in his patriotic phase. 

Angel: Somebody wanna get these things off me? 

Spike: Of all the bloody faces I expected to see down here. 
Angel: You're a Nazi. 
Spike: What? Oh. No. I just ate one. So... they got you, too, eh? Phew. Mmm. Nabbed me in Madrid. Sneaky bastards, the S.S. Don't ever go to a "free virgin blood" party. Turns out it's probably a trap. 
Angel: You were captured at a "free virgin blood" party? 
Spike: I know. Who'd have thought? One minute, I'm asking a fella why all the virgins look like Goebbels. Next minute, I'm stuck in a box on this cursed ship. 

Nostroyev: Angelus. Used to be quite the terror back in the day. Haven't heard much of you lately, though. 
Angel: Haven't heard much of you, ever. 
Nostroyev: Nostroyev! Scourge of Siberia and Butcher of Alexander Palace. 
Angel: Sorry. 
Nostroyev: I was Rasputin's lover! 

Angel: Because in case you haven't noticed, Spike, we're trapped at the bottom of the ocean. 
Spike: Yeah. So? 
Prince of Lies: We're underwater? 

Spike: Heil Hitler. 

Lawson: But I had a whole bit planned, about how I was always good with technology and you of all people should know that. 
Angel: Yeah. Sorry. This place might as well be a bus station. 

Lawson: May I speak freely, sir? I recognize there's a lot going on here that I don't understand... but those monsters butchered my crew... and apparently they're in the S.S. 
Angel: Spike's not in the S.S. He just likes wearing the jacket. 

Lawson: There's a difference between orders... and purpose, sir. I didn't sign on 'cause I needed directions. Hell, growin' up, I used to make fun of the military boys. Always figured they wouldn't know how to tie their shoes if someone didn't give 'em the go-ahead. Then I saw pictures of what the Krauts were doing. Evil's spreading, sir... and it's not just over there. It was on my ship, it killed my crew, and we gotta stop it! And I've been scared out of my mind since I signed on for this duty, but I can keep it together, I can even handle dying, if I know it's for a greater purpose. 

Lawson: Same thing I've always wanted: to understand. 
Angel: Understand...what exactly? 
Lawson: Why we do what we do, how you manage to always— 

Spike: Come on. When am I gonna get a turn? 
Angel: In about never. 
Spike: I'm playing nice with the anchovies, like you asked. At least let me have a go at the wheel. 

Spike: I want to be called captain. I mean, hell, I did eat him. 
Angel: Check the torpedoes before I stuff you in a tube and send you for a swim, Captain. 

Hodge: How does a guy just explode like that? 
Lawson: Man's asking a good question. 
Angel: You really need an answer? 
Lawson: Might help if I heard it for sure. 
Angel: Vampire. 
Lawson: Yeah, I take it back. Doesn't help.

Spike: What about vampires? 
Lawson: I don't know. It's technical. Something about stimulation and... control. They've been experimenting on them... and cutting into their brains. 
Spike: That what got the Prince's coronet in a twist, isn't it? Found out you were gonna pop our tops and melon-ball us. 
Lawson: They're trying to create an army... out of things like you. 
Spike: That explains why they nicked us. Cream of the crop. Wanna build an army of vampire slaves, you start at the top—with the generals. 
Lawson: It's not enough what you're already doing in the world, is it? Only you and your fuehrer could come up with something this sick.

Angel: We're on it! 
Spike: We? What do you mean, we? 

Spike: Bloody brilliant. Turn the poor sod to save the ship. Then make him dash for dry land before Mr. Sunshine scorches him a new one. You're still a dick. 
Angel: Yeah. I am. 
Spike: Bollocks. 

Lawson: We all need a reason to live, even if we're already dead. Mom, apple pie, the stars and stripes— That was good enough for me till I met you. Then I had this whole creature-of-the-night thing going for me—the joy of destruction and death—and I embraced it. I did all the terrible things a monster does—murdered women and children, tortured fathers and husbands just to hear 'em scream—and through it all... I felt nothing. 60 years of blood drying in my throat like ashes. So what do you think? Is it me, chief? Or does everyone you sired feel this way? 
Angel: You're the only one I ever did this to...after I got a soul. 
Lawson: Do I have one, too? 
Angel: I don't think it works that way, son. 
Lawson: You gave me just enough, didn't you? Enough of your soul to keep me trapped between who I was and who I should be. I'm nothin'... because of you. 

Angel: Finally came back. 
Spike: Took him long enough. Know revenge is best served cold and all, but his must've been frozen solid. 
Angel: I don't think that's what he was after. 
Spike: No? Then what was he looking for? 
Angel: A reason.

back to the top

14. Smile Time

Knox: I know Valentine's was last week, but, um... I didn't take the discount on the card. 
Fred: Thanks. Um... We talked about this. 
Knox: I was thinking maybe we could talk about it again. 
Fred: I'm sorry, Knox, but you have work to do. 
Knox: I do. 

Nina: Um... hey! 
Angel: Hey. Back for the Wolfram & Hart Bed-and-Breakfast? 

Gunn: Harmony, did you get a receipt from the county clerk on that filing I did for the Wayburn case? 
Harmony: Oh! Yeah. Clerk's office called, said you filed the wrong papers. 
Gunn: What? 
Harmony: Yeah. Um, you sent them a motion for change of venue instead of a motion to dismiss. Unless you meant to do that. Some kind of tricky lawyer maneuvering you're trying to pull. That it? 
Gunn: Yeah. Keep 'em on their toes. 

Nina: Anyway, I was thinking... I mean... What are you doing for breakfast tomorrow? 
Angel: Oh, you know— Drinking blood. 
Nina: Right, yeah. 
Angel: Uh, see ya.

Angel: Wes, it wasn't just breakfast. You know, it was, uh... breakfast. I mean, here we had this very good, very platonic thing going on, and then all of a sudden, out of the blue— 

Wesley: This isn't just from me. This comes from people who know. This comes from the ladies. 
Angel: The ladies? 
Wesley: Fred, Harmony... the girls in transcription. As Harmony put it, "Why else would a chick who's coming to spend 3 nights in a jail cell dress like it's her first date?" 
Angel: Oh, God. The ladies are right.

Angel: Because I'm not that guy. That guy is charming and funny and... emotionally useful. I'm the guy in a dark corner with the blood habit and the 200 years of psychic baggage. 
Wesley: Get over it! 

Wesley: Yes, he is a bit jumpy. He's realized Nina has feelings for him. 
Fred: Well, took long enough. 
Wesley: He can be rather dense. 

Lorne: Oh, the signals are there, jefe, loud and clear. Nina definitely wants a piece of Angel cake. 

Fred: Oh, my God! Angel, you're... cute! 
Puppet Angel: Fred, don't. 
Fred: Oh, but the little hands! And the hair... 
Puppet Angel: Hey! You're fired. 

Puppet Angel: I do not have puppet cancer! Come on, guys. This is a serious situation. I'm a puppet, and there are children's lives at... Hey, it's Smile Time! Hmm... Stupid plastic piece of crap! What? 

Lorne: Angel, baby... Muppet, pumpkin, uh, this show is number one in its time slot. Tykes love it all across the Southland. We can't just toss a Jihad at their studio. 

Nina: You— Are you under your desk? 
Puppet Angel: No. I— Yes. So was there something... 
Nina: Well, I can see you're... busy. Listen, what I put out there last night... I don't know, if it was a problem, please— 
Puppet Angel: Nope. No problem. 
Nina: Um... is there a reason why you won't look at me? 
Puppet Angel: 'Cause I'm under my desk. 

Puppet Angel: Just turn around and walk away. 
Spike: You're a— 
Puppet Angel: Spike! 
Spike: You're a bloody puppet! 

Spike: You're a wee, little puppet man! Ow! Ow! Hey! That's enough. Angel, what the hell happened to you? You look ridiculous. 

Puppet Angel: Stupid limey piece of crap! Yes, I'm a puppet. Doesn't mean you don't have work to do. 

Framkin: Wolfram & Hart. Yes. I've heard of it. And of you. Made quite an impression in our little industry. So much accomplishment despite your unfortunate deformities. 
Lorne: Deformi-whats? 

Polo: OK. Which one of you short-bus bastards turned the C.E.O. of Wolfram & Hart into a puppet? 

Polo: Stupid jackass! Might as well walk into a nuclear reactor and lick the core! I mean, anything could've happened to him!

Puppet Angel: I was turned into a puppet last night. 
Nina: I, uh... Wow. Are you—are you OK? 
Puppet Angel: I'm made of felt... And my nose comes off. 

Puppet Angel: Lorne... 
Lorne: My little prince! Ohh... what did they do to you? 
Puppet Angel: Nina... tried to... eat me. 
Lorne: Medic! You're gonna make it, Angel. Just don't stop fighting. Doctor! Is there a Geppetto in the house?! 

Gunn: I can't lose this. This power, these skills, they've—they've changed me, given me... 
Doctor: Meaning? And to have it taken away, it's... heartbreaking. Though I do think Cliff Robertson captured the poignance of it more elegantly. 
Gunn: I'm not going back to who I was. 

Wesley: That's not how magic works, Knox. 
Knox: Really...Merlin? Then how does magic work?

Puppet Angel: Stupid fingers. Stupid string! 

Gunn: Dead sure. Every contract signed with the lower planes is filed in the Library of Demonic Congress. You just gotta know where to look. Pretty tricky legalese, too. Framkin must have missed some of the fine print. 
Puppet Angel: Which allowed them to take over everything. 
Gunn: Including Framkin. These particular devils have a fairly distinctive M.O. 
Fred: They've done this before? 
Gunn: You see the last few seasons of "Happy Days"? Point is—you wanna take out "Smile Time", take out the puppets. 
Puppet Angel: Well, then... Let's take out some puppets. 

Polo: Listen, kids. Today is gonna be an extra-special best show ever! But only if everyone at home can give us a hand. Now get up... and come over here. That's it, everyone. Just keep your hands right there. Oh! Ohh... let it go! Let it all go! After all, it's Smile Time! 
Puppet Angel: No, it' not...it's time to kick your ass all the way back to hell! 

Polo: I'm gonna tear you a new puppet hole, bitch! 

Puppet Angel: Yeah. 2, 3 days tops. Ahem...uh... anyway... What are you doing for breakfast? 
Nina: What do puppets eat? 
Puppet Angel: Let's find out. 

Fred: You're just gonna go, aren't you? 
Wesley: Fred— 
Fred: Haven't you been... sensing anything lately... about me... coming from me? Uh... didn't occur to you that... something might have changed? That—I'm looking at you in a different— Oh, screw it. 

Fred: That was a signal. OK? Is that... clear enough for you? 
Wesley: Not even close.

back to the top

15. A Hole in the World

Fred: I know. And I have a nice room and I could meet a nice boy and we could get married and live in my nice room—
Fred's Mum: Well, he'd have to be a smallish fella.
Fred: —and we could have sweet little babies that could sleep in the drawer.
Fred's Dad: I do not see a downside to this plan.

Fred's Dad: She should say it. That's where she's going: Hell A.

Fred's Dad: I slept in a drawer 'til I was three. Didn't stunt me none.

Fred: Kind of cool, physiologically. They reproduce by vomiting up crystals that attract and mutate the microbes around them to form eggs.
Wesley: Are you trying to turn me on.

Angel: You just like stabbing me. 
Spike: I—I'm shocked—shocked that you'd say that. I much prefer hitting you with blunt instruments.

Gunn: Three little maids who, all unwary, Come from a ladies' seminary, Freed from its genius tutelary— Three little maids from school! Three little maids—..and ya don't stop with all the ladies in the...gangsta but ... go What's up?

Gunn: I am. I am. Look, I gotta be straight with you 'cause this is kinda blowin' my mind.
Wesley: Tell me.
Gunn: Fred and I are getting back together. She was so keyed up from last night's fight, she asked me over. We ended up talking for hours like old times, then, all of a sudd— I can't even keep this up 'cause your face is gonna make me weep. Wes, I am so messin' with you.

Wesley: And... is that all right...with you? Fred and me?
Gunn: Last year, you wouldn't ask me that question. The man becomes civilized. It's cool. Our thing's long done, and I know how you feel about her.
Wesley: Thank you.
Gunn: And to add the necessary boilerplate, you ever hurt her, I'm gonna kill ya like a chicken.
Wesley: Acceptable terms.

Spike: It's bollocks, Angel! It's your brand of bollocks from the first to last. 

Angel: And that wins out every time with you. You know, the human race has evolved, Spike!
Spike: Oh, into a bunch of namby-pamby, self-analyzing wankers who could never hope to—

Spike: We were just working out a b— Look, if cavemen and astronauts got into a fight, who would win?
Wesley: Ah. You've been yelling at each other for 40 minutes about this? Do the astronauts have weapons?
Angel & Spike: No.

Knox: Mummies can be a lot more trouble than you think. And you're seeing Wesley now.
Fred: Uh... Oh. OK. That's not connected to mummies in some way...
Knox: No, I just wanted to get it out there. And I'm totally good with it. I—I know that I've made... advances.
Fred: I'm sorry.
Knox: No, I— I didn't want to make you uncomfortable. I love working with you, and that's plenty for me.

Spike: Roving agent. Sort of a 007 without the poncy tux. Go anywhere I want?

Wesley: Good. I was hoping to take you out tomorrow night, and I don't feature you wrapped in bandages.
Fred: Take me out where?
Wesley: Can it be a secret?
Lorne: Oh, sheesh. Get a balcony, you two, huh?

Fred: 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.

Fred: Handsome man saves me.
Angel: That's how it works. Let's get crackin'.
Fred: Hmph. "Get crackin'." He's such an old fogy. 

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

Wesley: She's smarter than all of us put together. She knows it's bad. 

Angel: I was looking to work the streets, and we've got his address. For all we know, he's probably sitting there laughing. And 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: Good. Guys...
Wesley: 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 goin' anywere 'til ya— Well, whaddaya know? It is just me.

Gunn: I didn't come for a favor. We can make a deal.
Conduit as Gunn: Deals are for the devil.
Gunn: You want someone else—a life for hers—you'll get it. You can have mine.
Conduit as Gunn: I already do. 

Eve: Lindsey and I had nothing to do with that. I'm not lying. I—I'm not. Have you...heard from him? About him?
Spike: Oh, this is truly poetical.

Lorne: Ooh. Oh, I'm sorry. That was a knuckle-buster. I'm Jake LaMotta 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 Diana Warren will also result in your death—well, except "Rhythm of the Night."

Lorne: Yeah, and I might be now, but she reads clean. Her future's not too bright, but...
Eve: What do you mean?
Lorne: Well, nothin's written in stone—lately—but, uh, if I was about to face your future, I'd make like Carmen Miranda...and die.

Angel: Lorne, tell Harmony to prep the jet. We can be there in 10 hours. 
Knox: You can be there in 4. We have really good jets.

Lorne: If nobody thinks it's too ridiculous, I'm going to pray. 
Wesley: No, it's appreciated. Time is not on our side.
Spike: Nobody's on our side.
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 5 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! But I wonder... how very scared I am.

Fred: Then bring it. Take me home. 

Spike: I've never flown before.
Angel: I've been in a helicopter. They don't... go this high.

Angel: Can't lose her, Spike.
Spike: We won't.
Angel: I lost Cordy.

Fred: I finally get you up to my bedroom, and all you want to do is read.

Fred: Oh, isn't it terrible? At a time like this, I'm worried about how crappy I look.
Wesley: You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
Fred: Do you always like splotchy girls?
Wesley: It's my curse.

Angel: Right there. You wanna bet that's the entrance to the Deeper Well?
Spike: Either that, or Christmasland. Do you ever have any fun?

Spike: St. Petersburg.
Angel: Thought you'd forgotten.

Knox: And nothing would make me happier than to be the White Knight in this situation and to have her look at me the way that... 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: Oops.

Angel: Seriously. He doesn't like questions.
Spike: Why the bloody hell not?
Angel: He can't lie.

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 gonna save her. 
Gunn: You don't know Angel.
Knox: I'm not being clear. I don't mean that Angel's gonna fail to save her, I mean he's gonna let her die.

Drogyn: 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 got two of those right here.
Drogyn: But 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 claw into every soul in its path to keep from being trapped. Entire cities—tens maybe hundreds of thousands will die in agony if you save her.
Angel: No. 
Spike: That's madness.
Drogyn: This is a place of madness. I'll prepare the spell. Your choice.

Angel: To hell with the world.

Fred: My boys. I walk with heroes. Think about that.
Wesley: You are one.
Fred: Superhero. And this is my power: to not let them take me. Not me.
Wesley: That's right.
Fred: That's right. 

Angel: Spike...
Spike: This goes all the way through to the other side. So, I figure, there's a bloke somewhere around 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: I need you to talk to my parents. They have to know I wasn't scared, that it was quick. That I wasn't scared. Oh, God. 
Wesley: You have to fight. 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? 
Wesley: Please... Please...

back to the top

16. Shells

Illyria: My name... You would presume to speak my name... Because I have returned in the body of the human, you think you can speak to me. It's disgusting.

Illyria: Oh... now I remember. Winifred Burkle is the shell I'm in.

Spike: Can't even get drunk. Why would anyone ever make a bottle this small? It's inhuman. It's like a bloody tease. It's like, "Here's what a bottle of Jack would look like if you actually had one," or, "here's a drink, but it's very far away." 

Angel: Gone. What does it mean that she's gone? 
Spike: Well, in the world of men, a person dies, they stay that way. 
Angel: Unless you're a vampire. 
Spike: Or the ghost of one that saved the world. 
Angel: Or Buffy. Death doesn't have to be the end, not in our world. Rules can be broken. All you have to do... is push hard enough. 

Harmony: Why do you think I want to help? Because I've got some kind of blood lust—well, OK, that, too, but Fred's my friend. We went out for drinks all the... once. And if Poindexter here had anything to do with hurting her, then I'm in for a big fat pound of flesh.

Knox: She's so much more than that now. Beyond flesh. Beyond perfection. I loved Fred. I really did. She had a warmth that took you in and held you until everything cold and distant melted away. She was the most beautiful, perfect woman I ever met. That's why I chose her. She's the only one that was worthy. 

Wesley: Do you know? You didn't feel her die. She was shaking with pain and terrified and so brave. And she was better than anyone I've known, and better than... and she's gone. 
Angel: I know. Now let's get her back. 

Wesley: There is no Fred anymore. 

Spike: Flash fried in a pillar of fire saving the world. I got better.

Angel: Fred's soul is out there somewhere. We'll find it, and we'll put it back where it belongs. Then we'll make every son of a bitch who had a hand in this pay. We all on the same page? 

Knox: I am your priest. I am your servant. I am your guide in this world. I've taken your sacraments and placed them close to my heart according to the ancient ways. That's why you were called to me. We're bound together. 
Illyria: My last Qwa'ha Xahn was taller. 

Angel: We know what you are, Illyria. We've seen the rest of your kind. All the old ones, sealed away forever, like you were. Where you should've stayed. You've taken something of ours, something very precious. Stand down and I promise we won't destroy you taking it back. Your choice. 
Illyria: I decline. 

Harmony: Come on. I got a degree in tearing things up.

Angel: No. I lost Cordelia because some thing violated her. It crawled inside and used her up. No way in hell am I letting that happen again.

Harmony: Never trusted that little nerd. The rumpled hair, socks that didn't match, the cute lopsided grin. So totally playing it up. I mean, who did he think he was fooling? Besides all of us. Um, shouldn't you be wearing one of those moon suits?

Wesley: She was curious. That's why Fred didn't put it into containment immediately. How things work. What makes them special. She was always searching for what other people couldn't see. She was just curious. I think I hate her a little for that. 
Harmony: Wes... 

Gunn: I couldn't go back... to being just the muscle. I—I didn't think it would be one of us. I didn't think it would be Fred. 
Wesley: I understand not wanting to go back, not wanting to be who we were. I understand it. And I can forgive it. But you knew what was happening to her. You knew who was responsible and you didn't say anything. You let her die. I'm less forgiving about that. 

Wesley: Nothing is all right! Nothing will ever be all right. 

Illyria: Be silent. 
Knox: Right. Sorry. My bad. 

Harmony: How could you do that? To your friends? To Fred? 
Gunn: Because I was weak. Because I wanted to be somebody that I wasn't. Because I don't know where I fit. Because I never did. Because a thousand other reasons that don't mean a damn 'cause she's gone. She's gone... and she's not coming back because of me. I did this, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry. 

Knox: Showtime. 
Spike: Any seats left?

Angel: You're about as low as it gets, Knox, but you're a part of humanity. That isn't always pretty, but it's a hell of a lot better than what came before. And if it comes down to a choice between you and him, then yes, I would fight for his life, just like any other human's. Because that's what people do. That's what makes us— 

Illyria: It can't be. It's gone. My world is gone. 
Wesley: Now you know how I feel. 

Angel: You're not leaving? 
Spike: This is what she would have wanted. It's what I want. I don't really like you. Suppose I never will. But this is important, what's happening here. Fred gave her life for it. The least I can do is give what's left of mine. The fight's comin', Angel. We both feel it... and it's gonna be a hell of a lot bigger than Illyria. Things are gonna get ugly. That's where I live. 

Illyria: This is important to you. Things have names. The shell... Winifred Burkle... She can't return to you. 
Wesley: I know. 
Illyria: Yet there are fragments. When her brain collapsed, electrical spasms channeled into my function system... memories. Please...Wesley, why can't I stay? 
Wesley: No. Leave. 

Illyria: But you will. If I abide, you will help me. 
Wesley: Yes. 
Illyria: Because I look like her? 
Wesley: Yes. 
Illyria: We cling to what is gone. Is there anything in this life but grief? 
Wesley: There's love. There's hope...for some. There's hope that you'll find something worthy... that your life will lead you to some joy... that after everything... you can still be surprised. 
Illyria: Is that enough? Is that enough to live on?

back to the top

17. Underneath

Harmony: Everyone's otherwise occupado, boss. Wesley's stuck baby-sitting miss "I used to rule the world, bow down before me, minion scum." Why aren't we killing her, again? 

Spike: My first official parley as a very loosely affiliated member of the... what are we? Tell me we're not Scoobies. 
Angel: We don't have a... 
Spike: A name? Well, that's probably for the best. You'd want to be "Angel's Avengers" or something. 
Angel: "Angel's Avengers," that's... 

Spike: Hey, bullet points. Classy. Why am I always reconnaissance? I should get a decently flash gig like "save the girl" or "steal the emerald with the girl." 

Angel: Handsome man, save me from the monsters. 
Spike: Exactly! Or— What's that now? 
Angel: That's the first thing Fred said to me. In Pylea. She was trapped, hiding, afraid. Nearly crazy. Crazy. But brave. I should never have let her come here. Bad things always happen here. 

Lorne: What do I think? I think I'm tired. I think I'm sick and tired of wearing bells on my toes and making like everything's gonna be OK. I think it's pathetic that lately I'm too scared and sad to tell people the truth so I just say what they wanna hear instead. Most of all, I think the term "Happy Hour" should be banned from the English language. There's nothing happy about this hour or any other. 

Lorne: What I know is I started drinking the moment that I found out that a girl I loved was gonna die. Every time I get to the bottom of the glass, I hope that that last drop is gonna take me the distance. 
Carlos: OK.
Lorne: A simple plan that failed utterly, which is why I'm gonna heave my tuchis off this stool, strap the bells on, and with a smile and a quip, go back into the belly of a very ugly beast and pretend like I can help. Hmm. 'Cause that's what the green guy does. 

Angel: Good. Listen, Gunn... I know you feel bad about your part in what happened to Fred. And you should. For the rest of your life, it should wake you up in the middle of the night. And it will...because you're a good man. You signed a piece of paper, that's all. 
Gunn: But I knew. Not about Fred, but... when I signed, I knew there would be consequences. 
Angel: You know, the thing about atonement is, you never run out of chances... but you gotta take 'em. You can't hide in some hospital room and pretend it's all gonna go away... 'cause it never will. 

Wesley: 2 men walk into a bar. The first man orders a scotch and soda. The second man remembers something he'd forgotten, and it doubles him over with pain. He falls to the floor shaking.... and then through the floor and into the Earth. He looks back up at the first man, but he doesn't call out to him. They're not that close. 
Fred: Yeah. You always know where you are. 
Wesley: It's my particular skill. 
Fred: This is only the first layer. Don't you wanna see how deep I go? 

Illyria: You drank a great deal of that poison. You called me a lot of names meant to hurt feelings I no longer have, and then you sat there for hours making noise with your nose. 

Wesley: This world must be a terrible disappointment to you. 
Illyria: Grievous. 
Wesley: I'm not too impressed with it myself. 
Illyria: Why don't you leave? 

Eve: I'm a liaison. I liaise. Look, what do you want me to say? I'm a leprechaun. I'm from Brigadoon. 
Spike: If I had a nickel for every time I heard that one. 

Spike: There's thousands of different kinds of hells. You got your fire hell, your ice hell... your... ice hell. Your upside-down hell. 

Angel: This is weirding me out. Is this weirding you out? 
Spike: What, you never heard of Knight Rider? The Knight Industries 2000? K.I.T.T.? Never mind. 

Spike: This isn't hell. It's the 'burbs. Close enough. 
Angel: This is Lindsey's punishment? For trying to kill me? Hunh! Maybe it's a reward. 

Illyria: It's too small. It's too small. I can't breathe. I can't live with these walls. I can't breathe. There's no room for anything real. 
Wesley: It's all right. 
Illyria: I should gut you where you stand. You challenged me. There's not enough space to open my jaws. My face is not my face. I don't know what it will say.
Wesley: Illyria... come with me. 

Lorne: Nobody can darken our bullet-proof doors, not without our fearless leader's say-so. This place is a fortress. 
Harmony: Uh-oh. 
Lorne: This thing coming after you, how bad on a scale of, say, one to Terminator? 

Lindsey: Angel. Make it quick. 
Angel: If I was gonna kill you, it wouldn't be quick. 

Spike: Where's not the Wrath? The Wrath's all over!

Lindsey: We're all gonna die. 
Angel: Not today. 
Lindsey: Every day. 

Angel: Come on. Gunn, no! What the hell are you doing? 
Gunn: What needs to be done. 
Angel: I'm not leaving you here. 
Gunn: You don't make the rules here. Wolfram & Hart does. If one leaves, one has to stay. A void is impossible. 
Angel: You knew. 
Gunn: That thing about atonement. 
Angel: Gunn... Let's go. 
Spike: You are not bloody serious! 
Gunn: When I forget, the door closes. Go. You have to. 

Lorne: Um...um... Oh... Holy motor pool! 

Spike: I'm on fire! Oh, never mind. 

Wesley: There are things worse than walls. Terrible... and beautiful. If we look at them for too long they will burn right through us. Truths we couldn't bear. Not every day. 

Lindsey: The apocalypse, man. You're soaking in it. 
Spike: I've seen an apocalypse or two in my time. I'd know I one was under my nose. 
Lindsey: Not an apocalypse. The apocalypse. What'd you think, a gong was gonna sound? Time to jump on your horses and fight the big fight? Starting pistol went off a long time ago, boys. You're playing for the bad guys. Every day you sit behind your desk and you learn a little more how to accept the world the way it is. Well, here's the rub... heroes don't do that. Heroes don't accept the world the way it is. They fight it. 
Angel: You're saying everything we do... it's a distraction... to keep us busy from looking under the surface. 
Lindsey: Ding! We have a winner! The world keeps sliding towards entropy and degradation, and what do you do? You sit in your big chair, and you sign your checks, just like the senior partners planned. The war's here, Angel. And you're already 2 soldiers down.

back to the top

18. Origin

Wesley: She's either... counting oxygen molecules or analyzing the petri dish she just put into her mouth. Or sleeping. I can never quite tell. 

Angel: I'm not leaving Gunn in a hell dimension. We'll get him out. In the meantime, I need you to let us help you with her. 
Wesley: She's my responsibility. 
Angel: She's our responsibility. If she's gonna be here, there are things that we should be doing— Testing her powers, studying her. She put a whole petri dish in her mouth? 

Angel: When was the last time you slept? You're not her savior. I need you here, working, not off drinking yourself into a coma, chasing ghosts. Fred's dead, Wes. You're still alive. Start acting like it. 

Angel: Because with everything going on, we don't have time to deal with small stuff like this. 
Wesley: Small stuff? This is what we do... or what we're supposed to do. They need help. And they seem like good people. 
Angel: All the more reason to get them out of here. We know what this place does to good people. 

Spike: Right. We need to set some ground rules. First off—no more punching me in the face. Secondly, when I punch you in the face, you tell me how you feel so I can write that down on my clipboard. Third—no touching my clipboard. Fourth— 
Illyria: I enjoy hurting you. 
Spike: Well, we're gonna have to fix that, 'cause— 

Spike: We're off to a bit of a rough start, but don't worry. I'll break her. 
Wesley: She's not a horse, Spike. You know, this room is equipped with automated training devices, and you don't have to test her by just... allowing her to pummel you. 

Wesley: It's just, uh... I don't always understand Angel. 
Illyria: Yet you follow him willingly. You're loyal to him. 
Wesley: He's earned it. I...trust he knows what he's doing. 

Hamilton: Let's be clear about this. Things run differently now. I'm not a little girl. You and I won't be making love on this couch any time soon. Now, with that in mind, how can I help you? 

Hamilton: Oh, no, I didn't say that. I said the senior partners weren't behind it. This isn't an accident. Someone out there's trying to send you a message... and they're using your son to do it. 

Conner: Oh, my God! 
Angel: Connor, listen to me— 
Conner: You almost broke that guy in half! That was awesome!

Conner: Then...what am I? 
Angel: Best we can tell, you're a healthy, well-adjusted kid, with, uh... enhanced abilities. 
Conner: And you're a vampire. So...demons, vampires, doctors with claws... and I'm some sort of super-hero. 

Conner: Right. Vampire. So, what are you, like 500 years old? 
Angel: No, I'm about— Do I look 500? 
Conner: Do you spend all your time making out with other vampires, like in Anne Rice novels? 
Angel: No. Uh—I used to, but... 
Conner: You have a girlfriend at least? 
Angel: Can't afford to. 
Conner: Must be lonely. 
Angel: I keep busy. 

Spike: You filthy harlot! I'm gonna tear your neck out! 

Conner: She have any powers? 
Spike: Glad you asked. So far, I've established that she can hit like a Mack truck, selectively alter the flow of time, and, uh... possibly talk to plants. 
Illyria: I'd like to keep Spike as my pet. 

Illyria: Your body warms. This one is lusting after me. 
Conner: Oh... no, I—I—It's just that—it's the outfit. I guess I've always had a thing for older women. 
Angel: They were supposed to fix that. 
Conner: What? 

Angel: You're in college? 
Conner: Yeah. 
Angel: Where at? 
Conner: Stanford. 
Angel: Really? 

Wesley: Angel, we know hardly anything about this man. If he's trying to bait you— 
Angel: It's not up for discussion. 
Wesley: At least take backup— 
Angel: I said I'd take care of it, Wes. Drop it! 

Lorne: You could buy Bolivia for what we paid him on this one. 

Vail: If it were that simple, I'd do it myself. No, the prophecy is quite clear. There is only one person who can kill Sahjahn. 
Angel: Connor. 
Vail: So...you see our problem. I turned your son into a healthy boy. And now, I need you... to turn him back into a killer.

Conner: Is he pretty strong, this Sahjahn? 
Wesley: That's a bit of an understatement. Last time you fought him, Sahjahn nearly killed you. 
Conner: Is that true? 
Angel: This is different. Like I said... you're special. 
Conner: We don't have a choice, do we? 

Hamilton: Do you know what this thing is? It's a gibbet. Has he put you in it yet? Well, he'll get around to it. Eventually, he gets around to everything down here. Mr. Gunn, I'm Marcus Hamilton, your new liaison to the senior partners, and I have a proposition for you. 
Gunn: Oh, yeah? 
Hamilton: Yes. It occurs to us that you might want to get out of here. We can help with that. You know, I've been by your offices, seen your friends. Strange, there's not much activity on the... "rescue Gunn" front. We're not asking you for much. All we need you to do— 
Gunn: Can I have my necklace back? Come on, sparky. Let's go. This heart ain't gonna cut itself out. 

Conner: Do you really think I can do this? 
Angel: I know you can. 

Illyria: You are a summation of recollections. Each change is simply a point of experience. 
Wesley: We are more than just memories. 
Illyria: And yet Fred changed the moment her memory did. 
Wesley: Fred's memories were changed? 
Illyria: In places. 
Wesley: Can you see what they were before? 
Illyria: No. They're gone. Does this change your view of Fred? Is she still the person you thought she was? 

Conner: Here's how it works. I kill this Sahjahn thing, and we walk. You come near my family again, and I'll slit your throat. And if that doesn't kill ya, I'll chop your whole head off. And if that doesn't work, I'll—I'll just keep... stabbing you till you bleed to death. Understand? 

Conner: Dude, you're starting to freak me out. 
Angel: Right. Sorry. Oh... Sorry. Go get him. I'll be right over here. 

Sahjhan: Thank you, mortal, for releasing me from my cursed prison. In gratitude, I grant you 3 wishes. 
Conner: Really? 
Sahjhan: Nah. I'm just messing with you. 
Conner: Oh. 

Conner: Yeah. I'm me. Hi. You can take a moment, if you want. There's some weapons and stuff over here if you think you'll need them. 

Conner: Ow! God, that really hurt! 
Sahjhan: Did it? 
Conner: Yeah! I'm sorry. 
Sahjhan: You need to call a time out? 
Conner: No. I'm all right. 

Wesley: You changed the world. 
Angel: He's my son, Wesley. Connor's my son. 
Wesley: Did you trade her? Did you trade Fred for your son? 

Wesley: Why are you so afraid of this? He said it would bring back the past. Will it undo what you've done? 
Angel: No. It won't bring her back. 
Wesley: Let's find out. 
Angel: No! Please. You have to trust me. 
Wesley: I can't. Not anymore.

Wesley: Try to push reality out of your mind. Focus on the other memories. They were created for a reason. 
Illyria: To hide from the truth? 
Wesley: To endure it. 

Conner: I'm not too worried about him. Nothing he can show me I haven't already seen. Anyway... I just wanted to say good-bye. I gotta go back to my life now. 
Angel: Oh...do you really have to leave? I mean, right now? 
Conner: I kinda think I should. I need to take care of my parents. This isn't their world. They really don't feel safe here. You gotta do what you can to protect your family. I learned that from my father.

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19. Time Bomb

Wesley: I didn't send her. We were discussing Gunn. I explained his situation, our inability to get him out. She nodded, created a portal, and disappeared.
Angel: So she's just, what, helping you out? She's your little helper. 

Angel: Go team.

Wesley: I stabbed you. I should apologize for that. But I'm honestly not sure how. I think it'll just be awkward.
Gunn: Good call.
Wesley: OK. 

Wesley: You can't... look at her without seeing...her body's previous owner. But then, what comes out of her mouth, pure unadulterated vertigo. We look so tiny to her.
Gunn: But you got her on a leash or something, right?
Wesley: No. No. She's monumentally self-possessed. She still thinks she's the god-king of the universe.
Gunn: So she's like a TV star.
Wesley: No, nothing that bad. Bit more violent, though. 

Spike: Ooh! All right, grandma. Give ya that. Good one.

Spike: The one who dies with the most toys wins, eh?
Illyria: To never die... and to conquer all, that is winning. 

Gunn: What's, uh, with the incognito?
Lorne: About to go on assignment. Angel wants me to start tailing Illyria, keep tabs on her. Got a little walkie-talkie and everything. 

Wesley: But she's unpredictable, dangerous, too powerful a being, too close to being an enemy. Yes, Angel. It's self-evident.
Angel: Which means we have to find some kind of weakness, some point of vulnerability—
Wesley: You want me to find a way to kill her.
Angel: You got a problem with that?
Wesley: No. 

Hamilton: Not anymore. Let me ask you something, Angel. Have you ever heard the term "surgical strike"?
Angel: Ever heard the term "appointment"? 

Lorne: Well, I'll tell you what—still like him better than Eve.

Illyria: You are my betrayer. When you shattered the Window of Orlon, you meant to change the past, to rewrite your history and the history of this body.
Wesley: And instead I brought back more painful memories. 
Illyria: It was a failure. 

Illyria: Betrayal was a neutral word in my day, as unjudged a word as water or breeze. No. Or perhaps... I am only bothered because I am bothered.
Wesley: That sounds very close to human.
Illyria: Motes of dust. Mayflies who die so soon after they're born they might as well not live at all.
Wesley: Now, now. Manners. 

Gunn: Yeah. Came down to my basement for a visit while I was getting carved. Offered to get me out.
Angel: And what'd you say?
Gunn: Do you really have to ask me that?
Angel: I really do. 

Illyria: Odd. It doesn't exist until it cracks apart.
Wesley: What's that?
Illyria: Time. 

Gunn: Do you know what the worst part of that place was? Wasn't the basement. At least there, you knew where you stood. Demon was gonna cut your heart out and show it to you. Nah. It was the fake life they gave you upstairs. The wife, kids, all the icing on the family cake. But somewhere underneath it, there was the nagging certainty that it was all lies, that all the smiles and the birthday candles and the homework were just there to hide the horror. Is that all we're doing here—just hiding the horror?

Hamilton: Curing cancer, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?
Wesley: Wouldn't be cost-effective. I'm sure we make a lot from cancer. 

Illyria: The vampire plays children's games.
Lorne: Oh, tag, you're it, honey. 

Angel: Illyria's blown all of her gaskets, man. She's outta her mind.
Spike: How can you tell? Yesterday she spent 2 hours mind-melding with a potted fern. 

Illyria: You caged me in this fractured time frame, in moments that repeat themselves over and over without deviation. But I don't say these words. I rip the necklace off. I lift him from the table. We speak. And the demon attacks again. Is it of your sciences? How do you unweave time in this way?

Illyria: I didn't give you the chance. That you learn when you become a king. Unh! You learn to destroy everything that's not utterly yours. All that matters is victory. That's how your reign persists. You're a slave to an insane construct. You are moral. A true ruler is as moral as a hurricane, empty but for the force of his gale. But you... trapped in the web of the Wolf, the Ram, the Hart. So much power here, and you quibble at its price. If you want to win a war, you must serve no master but your ambition. Aaaah! Aaaaah! Oh, you have not lied. My undoing is beyond you, your people. Something is broken inside me. Aaah! My power is too great! I know this now, as I know it every time I come to this moment.

Illyria: You want to take my power... to let me live. But I am my power. And I would rather be a titanic crater than to be like unto you. I kill you. That's how this ends. 
Spike: What?! Gettin' ahead of ourselves a bit. 

Angel: "Serve no master but your ambition."
Wesley: What's that?
Angel: I think you may have been right before... about Illyria being a resource. She just might make the team yet. 

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20. The Girl in Question

Gunn: Just don't wanna lose another baby with the bath water... boss.
Angel: Fine. We'll send Spike. 

Gunn: Spike, this is a delicate matter that needs to be handled with a lot of finesse. And why the hell are we talkin' to him?
Angel: Because he signed on to help.
Spike: Not to be some glorified garbage collector. 

Angel: Pack your bags.
Spike: I don't even speak the language.
Angel: We'll get you a book. 

Spike: How do you say "wank off" in Italian?

Spike: All right, what is it this time? Uber-vamps? Demon gods? Devil robots?
Angel: It's Buffy.

Spike: You really think we could take him?
Angel: Whoa, whoa. What do you mean, "we"?
Spike: What? You don't think I'm gonna let you traipse off to Italy without me, do you?
Angel: You don't speak the language.
Spike: I'll get a book. 

Spike: I just wanna see you happy. Well, not too happy, 'cause then I'd have to stake ya. Second thought, have at it. 

Spike: Partners, then?
Angel: Just like old times. You want a drink?
Spike: God, yes. 

William: That right bastard.

William: He's gonna curse the day he ever crossed purpose with Angelus.
Angelus: And William the Bloody.
William: We'll see just how immortal he is when we're done with him.
Angelus: We'll carve him up like a Sunday roast and make him watch as we feast on his steaming flesh. Yaaaagh! Aah! Unh! How you doin'? 
William: Bugger. 

Angelus: Go ahead. Take your best shot. I'll snatch your little wee sticks out of the air and spend the next fortnight shoving 'em slowly up your arse.

Illyria: I can no longer hear the song of the green.
Lorne: You think that includes me?
Illyria: My world gone. My power stripped. How would you define it?
Lorne: Uh, I don't know, how about... lucky we didn't kill you when you went nuclear?
Illyria: This fate is worse than death. Condemned to live out existence in a vessel incapable of sustaining my true glory. How am I to function with such limitation?
Lorne: Well, ever tried a Sea Breeze? 

Lorne: Burkles!
Roger Burkle: See? I told you they would remember us.
Trish Burkle: Guess we do make an impression. 

Andrew: Buffy and Dawn are letting me crash. My casa was incinerated when that thing happened.
Spike: What thing?
Andrew: Cultural misunderstanding. Let us speak of more pleasant times. Entrate pure. I part my threshold. I mean, my apartment. Obviously. So, um, I had plans later this evening, but I can change them if you guys wanna hang. Uh, I could show you Rome at night, a city of contrasts. Anywhere you want to go, anything you want to see.
Angel & Spike: Buffy. 

Andrew: You're telling me. Most nights they never leave the house, just curl up on the couch and snuggle.
Angel: There's snuggling?
Andrew: For starters. Wait. Uh, you didn't know they were...together?
Spike: It's worse.

William: Well, that cheeky bastard. Had us tossed and then violates your woman.
Angelus: Did he hurt ya?
Darla: Not until I asked him to. Oh, come on. Have you seen him? With the eyes and the chest and the... immortality. 

Darla: Darling. It was just fornication. Really great fornication.
William: She's glowing, mate.
Angelus: She isn't.
Darla: Little bit.
William: Best fit you for a pair of antlers. Been made the right cuckold, you have.
Drusilla: Time for another pony ride?
William: Son of a bitch! 

Angelus: Violate our women!
William: Violate in succession!
Darla: Concurrently.
Angelus: Concurrently? You never let us do that. 

Trish Burkle: Girl reaches a certain age, she's earned the right to make her own decisions.
Roger Burkle: Which with Fred was around 7, wasn't it? 

Angel: What the hell are you doing?
Spike: I was confused, ya git! It's very loud in here. 

Spike: Hop on, little mama.
Angel: I'm not ridin' on the back. 

Ilona: Ciao! Benvenuti! Welcome! Ah, Spike. Ha ha ha. Oh! You are the very meaning of handsome. You take my breath away. Ah, I have no breath. Ha ha ha! And you, what an honor. The great Angelus.
Angel: Actually, it's just Angel.
Ilona: Ah, yes, of course. The gypsies, they gave you your soul. The gypsies are filthy people! And we shall speak of them no more. I am Ilona Costa Bianchi. I'm the CEO of the Roman offices of Wolfram e Hart. And please, we are at your disposal. Whatever it is that you want, we give to you. If you want the world, we give you the world. We give you 2 worlds, in fact, because this is our way. 

Trish Burkle: Well, I want to hear absolutely everything, but most importantly, have you got a young lady in your life?
Fred/Illyria: Mom!
Trish Burkle: What? I was just asking. Well, can I help it if there's a perfect gentleman hiding in plain sight of my single daughter?
Fred/Illyria: Dad, make her stop. 

Wesley: What the hell are you doing?
Fred/Illyria: Visiting with my folks.
Wesley: Illyria—
Fred/Illyria: Your grief hangs off of you like rotted flesh. I couldn't tolerate it from them as well. I thought this would be more convenient. 

Ilona: No, no, no, no! No, no. The two of you are so precious. But no! This is a civilized country. We do these things all the time. Somebody gets kidnapped, somebody pays the money. Everybody goes home happy. Grazie. Prego. Kiss-kiss. We already have the money ready to go. Eh. Huh?
Angel: All right. Fine. Whatever. We'll do it your way. 

Angel: I helped save the world, you know.
Spike: Like I haven't.
Angel: Yeah, but I've done it a lot more.
Spike: Oh, please.
Angel: I closed the hellmouth.
Spike: I've done that.
Angel: Yeah, you wore a necklace. You know, I helped kill the mayor and, uh, and Jasmine and—
Spike: Do those really count as savin' the world?
Angel: I stopped Acathla. That saved the world.
Spike: Buffy ran you through with a sword.
Angel: Yeah, but I made her do it. I signaled her with my eyes.
Spike: She killed you. I helped her! That one counts as mine. 

Wesley: Did you get what you needed from that experience?
Fred/Illyria: Yes. It was most informative.
Wesley: Good. Don't ever do it again. 

Demon Butler: I should be so lucky. The Immortal does not need men like me to do his business. He is a wild card, a wolf removed from the pack, a stallion without, uh, the bridle.
Spike: What, are you in love with him?
Demon Butler: No, no, no, no. Well, OK, yes. But if anything, he's more of a, uh, inspiration, a spiritual guide. Have you read his book? It's a life changer. 

Andrew: Ohhh. The point is she's moving on. You guys do the same, and you might catch her one day. One of you, anyway. But you keep running in place, you're gonna find she's long gone.

Fred/Illyria: Isn't it what you desire? I mean... you love me, I love you. What's the big deal?
Wesley: I loved her.
Fred/Illyria: You loved this. And part of you still does. I can feel it in you. I... wish to explore it further.
Wesley: Never. You... like this. It sickens me.

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21. Power Play

Angel: Hey.
Nina: OK. Where did you learn how to do that?
Angel: Which part? 

Nina: But now, the brow is back.

Nina: You're a hero.
Angel: Oh, that word.
Nina: You're my hero.
Angel: I may not always be. 

Illyria: He and I are no longer having intercourse.
Spike: Y-ah. You wh-what?
Illyria: He has ceased communication with me.
Spike: Oh! Oh. Communi— 
Illyria: My recent reversion to the Burkle persona disturbed him. And 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... it's the most devastating power you have. 

Angel: Somebody else dies? Yeah. I know, Wes. People are dying every day all over. This girl is just one more statistic.
Wesley: Stacey. The statistic's name was Stacey Bluth.
Angel: Well, you know, we can't save everybody, and we can't sweat the small stuff.
Wesley: Small?
Angel: Wes, I got a United States senator waiting for me, so just find out whatever you can about this Boretz thing and we'll talk later, OK?
Wesley: Small stuff? 

Illyria: He showed no regard for my presence.
Spike: Not that you require any creature's attention. Hey, wanna go find something to hit? 

Spike: See? This isn't so bad now. Little field trip out in the... well, what passes in this city for fresh air. All we need now is to bag ourselves a Boretz demon, we got ourselves a perfect date.

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. 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 he and his follow— 

Spike: Bloody helpful. You're wrong about Angel. Not that I don't think the sod could end up being a megalomaniacal bastard. It's just that 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 and will eventually turn against them.
Spike: Guess I don't have to worry about that, 'cause Angel and me have never been intimate. Except that one...
Illyria: Mark me. He will murder one of you. 

Spike: You're all torn up, mate. What did this to you, the Boretz, was it?
Drogyn: No. It was Angel.

Harmony: Thinking of getting a tattoo, right? Put a little more "bad" in your bad boy bank. It should go on your calf.

Lorne: Hey, is Angel in there?
Wesley: He is.
Lorne: What's the weather report?
Wesley: Cold. Icy, actually. 

Drogyn: It was a Sathari... part of a clan of demon assassins. They fell upon me last night. The poison from his 4 blades wearing heavy on my limbs.
Spike: Yeah, rousing bit of rah-rah, mate. Get to the goods. 

Wesley: Are you saying that Angel was responsible for what happened to Fred?
Drogyn: He may not have chosen her specifically, but—
Lorne: Whoa! Let's put a kibosh on that sentence before it turns into an ass-kickin'. 

Drogyn: No one lies when they're at the mercy of my wrath.
Gunn: Then you're the liar, Aragorn. 

Wesley: Gunn, this is Drogyn, the battlebrand, given eternal youth a thousand years ago. Demonbane, truthsayer... Watchers' Council.
Spike: Percy did a paper. Bully on him. 

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 and good. You mind watching over our friend Drogyn? Aw, come on. New place'll 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, uh, 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, worldwide wickets. The product doesn't matter. It's the game that matters. Get to the top, be the best, have the most, win.
Wesley: Win what?
Angel: You're still missin' the point.
Gunn: That Angel talking? 'Cause it sounds a lot more like Angelus.
Angel: Oh, if I were Angelus, half of you would already be dead, just for the fun of it. 

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, 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 minutia. 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, in 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. 

Wesley: The small stuff that you can't worry about, would that include Fred?
Angel: I loved Fred.
Wesley: That's not an answer.
Angel: Then I guess you don't get one.

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

Angel: It's not safe here.
Nina: Is it ever? I want to be with you if there's trouble.
Angel: You don't want to be with me. You don't want to be near me.
Nina: Because I might get hurt?
Angel: 'Cause I'm the thing that'll hurt you.
Nina: What do you call this? 

Drogyn: It is a test, a task of some sort. You must collect those crystals. And the fruit.
Illyria: Why?
Drogyn: Old one... you have no right to walk this Earth. Your time is past. You belong to the well.
Illyria: Truly. I wish now I had never been brought out of it.
Drogyn: 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. Does that not

Hamilton: Hmm, the good old days. So I hear you're living in a tree now.
Drogyn: The tree is the entrance to the Deeper Well. I live in a cave. It's really quite pleasant. 

Hamilton: I gotta tell ya, I'm a little disappointed. Didn't think a big, scary old one bled this easily. Maybe it's this skinny, little body you chose to infect. Or maybe it's that ray gun they shot you with to keep you from exploding. Or maybe...you're...just...not...that...cool! Yes, that's probably it. 

Lindsey: It's a secret society.
Gunn: Never heard of them.
Lindsey: That's 'cause they're secret. 

Lindsey: Jeez. Are you guys always this slow? Huh? Starts with an "a," ends in "pocalypse." It's a well-oiled machine, this circle. These people grease the wheels, keep the parts in place. Make sure man's inhumanity to man keeps rolling along.

Wesley: 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... then maybe there's still time. We can bring him back. He'd do the same for any of us, regardless of our actions.
Lorne: And what if he's skipped too far down that evil brick road? 

Sebassis: Kudos, child. I must say, it's gratifying to see you've returned to form, Angelus.
Angel: It's still Angel.
Sebassis: Ah. Well, what's in a name, eh?

Angel: What I do here is my business. You don't like how I conduct it, you can leave... before I kill you.
Wesley: Kill us? Hard to believe we're having trouble trusting you.
Angel: Just telling it like it is.
Wesley: Then we have a problem.
Angel: I guess we do. 

Wesley: 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 as pure as Drogyn considered me an enemy. It was the only way to gain their confidence.
Lorne: Oh, so this whole evil Angel thing has been a big scamola. Hmm. I smell Oscar. 

Wesley: 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 who they were. Then, when Fred died, I wasn't gonna let that be another random horrible event in another 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. 

Angel: We are weak. The powerful control everything... except our will to choose. Look, Lindsey's a pathetic halfwit, but he was right about one thing. Heroes don't accept the way the world is. The senior partners may be eternal, but we can make their existence painful.
Wesley: You wanna take them on.
Angel: We're in a 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: No, you don't. 10-to-1, 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, shining 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. I 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... burn the house down while we're still in it.
Angel: Something like that.

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22. Not Fade Away

Angel: Then we're all agreed.
Spike: Yeah, we're all one big happy Manson family. 

Angel: Drogyn's dead.
Spike: And how do you know that, Kreskin?
Angel: Because I killed him. 

Lorne: I'm not playing to the crowd, Gunn. I tell you, I still don't trust the man.
Gunn: We don't have to trust him. We just gotta pray the Black Circle does. 

Sebassis: The circle does not abide secrets.
Angel: Which is interesting for a secret society. 

Angel: If the next words out of your mouth are "Kill Spike", we just might have to kiss. 

Angel: I have no desire to become human.
Sebassis: Oh, good. Then you won't mind signing that pesky future away. Through that document, the prophecy can be undone. Your signature there will remove any opportunity that you will ever earn your once-precious humanity. Will you sign it?
Angel: Of course.
Izzy: It's gotta be signed in blood. 

Angel: I don't remember what it was like... being human. It was too long ago.

Harmony: Out of the loop? That's where I live.

Angel: Give me the hell on Earth speech, Lindsey. I know how bad things are, how much sway the demons hold. I happen to be the greatest mass murderer you've ever met.
Lindsey: Never given you props for that, have I? 

Angel: 'Cause it's not what I'm expected to do. 'Cause you're good in a fight. And let's say we come up rolling 7s and this does go our way. We tear up this firm, someone's going to have to step in. I know that's what you want. Now, I'm a lot more comfortable with the thought of you in that position than anyone else.
Lindsey: The devil you know.
Angel: That'd be you. 

Lindsey: Well, you get a little speechy, all right? And I breeze out. I got the Cliff Notes—honor and humanity. Absolute good. I heard it. So here's the plot twist—I'm in.
Angel: Why?
Lindsey: Everybody goes on about your soul. Vampire with a soul. Nobody ever mentions the fact that you're really a vampire with big brass testes. This is gonna be a circus. I mean, win or lose, you're about to pick the nastiest fight since mankind drop-kicked the last demon out of this dimension. And that you don't do without me. If you want me, I'm on your team. 

Angel: I want you, Lindsey. I'm thinking about rephrasing that.
Lindsey: Yeah, I think I'd be more comfortable if you did. 

Bartender: It can get pretty ugly in here, I gotta warn you.
Spike: What I'm after. Couple more shots of courage, and I may make my presence felt.
Bartender: Your funeral.
Spike: Well, I never had a proper one. 

Gunn: What if I told you it doesn't help? What would you do if you found out that none of it matters? That it's all controlled by forces more powerful and uncaring than we can conceive, and they will never let it get better down here. What would you do?
Anne: I'd get this truck packed before the new stuff gets here. 

Illyria: I will fight. I've been broken and humiliated. I will return in kind every blow, every sting. I will shred my adversaries. Pull their eyes out just enough to turn them towards their mewing, mutilated faces.
Wesley: You're a very inspirational person. Have I mentioned that? 

Illyria: Angel told you to do whatever you wanted. Today... tonight, you may all be dead.
Wesley: Yes. Good point.
Illyria: I am not what you want.
Wesley: No.
Illyria: Then why—
Wesley: Don't I go off and have one last perfect day? Smell the flowers, or sky-dive, or have a go with Mistress Spanks-A-Lot... or whatever the hell one is supposed to do in this situation. 

Wesley: There is no perfect day for me, Illyria. There is no sunset or painting or finely-aged scotch that's going to sum up my life and make tonight any... There is nothing that I want.

Wesley: The first lesson a watcher learns is to separate truth from illusion. Because in the world of magics, it's the hardest thing to do. The truth is that Fred is gone. To pretend anything else would be a lie. And since I don't actually intend to die tonight, I won't accept a lie.

Connor: But it's the wolf part that Jones's you. There's some full-moon love, am I right? Fur flying.
Angel: Huh?
Connor: So vampires really don't understand the concept of jokes. 

Connor: I know you're my father.
Angel: You got your memories back.
Connor: Yeah, they're mixed in there with the new ones. Kind of like, uh... a bad dream I had, I guess, a very strange and violent, at times, inappropriately erotic...dream.
Angel: You probably have a lot of questions.
Connor: No. I don't want to make a thing. I get what you did. You know... I'm grateful. That's as far as I want to take it...OK? 

Connor: Have you ever written a resume before? Ever?
Angel: No... but I have very nice handwriting.
Connor: You girl. 

Lindsey: It ain't about that, love. It's about what he needs, and right now, he needs every hand he can get. As long as I'm fighting on his side, he'll play me fair. When the smoke clears, then we'll see where we stand.

Lindsey: If this thing does go down, I want you to stay the hell away from it. I'm not gonna let anything happen to you. Damn, girl, you gave up immortality for me. It's like something out of a fairy tale.
Eve: We don't live in a fairy tale. 

Illyria: I'll make trophies of their spines.
Angel: Good to have you on the team.

Spike: Right. First off, I'm not wearing any amulets. No bracelets, broaches, beads, pendants, pins, or rings.
Angel: Fine. All you need is a rattle. 

Lorne: Hey, Angel, uh, I'll do this last thing for you, for us... but then I'm out, and you won't find me in the alley afterwards. Hell, you won't find me at all. Do me a favor. Don't try. 

Illyria: Try not to die. You are not unpleasant to my eyes.
Gunn: Uh, thanks. You... try not to die, too. 

Spike: What do you think all this means for that Shanshu bugaboo? If we make it through this, does one of us get to be a real boy?
Angel: Who you kidding? We're not gonna make it through. 
Spike: Well, long as it's not you.

Hamilton: Going out?
Angel: Why? You wanna order in? 

Angel: You betrayed me. You are betraying me now, even as we are talking.
Harmony: Because you never have any confidence in me.
Angel: No, because you have no soul.
Harmony: I would if you had confidence in me. 

Hamilton: So.
Angel: Yeah. Did that hurt at all?
Hamilton: Little bit. But it's all part of the job.

Vail: You don't know who you're dealing with, do you, boy? I mean, really. I crap better magic than this. Now then, let me show you what a real wizard can do.

Connor: Care about that, dress-for-less?
Angel: What the hell are you doing here? 
Connor: Come on. You drop by for a cup of coffee, and the world's not ending? Please.

Lorne: One last job. You're not part of the solution, Lindsey. You never will be.
Lindsey: You kill me? A flunky?! I'm not just... Angel...kills me. You don't... Angel... 
Lorne: Good night, folks. 

Illyria: Would you like me to lie to you now?
Wesley: Yes. Thank you. Yes. Hello there.
Fred: Oh, Wesley. My Wesley.
Wesley: Fred. I've missed you.
Fred: It's gonna be OK. It won't hurt much longer, and then you'll be where I am. We'll be together.
Wesley: I—I love you.
Fred: I love you. My love. Oh, my love. 

Hamilton: Let me say this as clearly as I can. You cannot beat me. I am a part of them. The Wolf, Ram, and Hart. Their strength flows through my veins. My blood is filled with their ancient power.
Angel: Can you pick out the one word there you probably shouldn't have said?

Angel: Go home...now.
Connor: They'll destroy you.
Angel: As long as you're OK, they can't. Go

Gunn: Damn! How did I know the fang boys would pull through? You're lucky we're on the same side, dogs, 'cause I was on fire tonight. My game was tight. 
Spike: You're supposed to wear the red stuff on the inside, Charlie boy. 

Illyria: Wesley's dead. I'm feeling grief for him. I can't seem to control it. I wish to do more violence.
Spike: Well, wishes just happen to be horses today.
Angel: Among other things. 

Gunn: OK. You take the 30,000 on the left...
Illyria: You're fading. You'll last 10 minutes at best.
Gunn: Then let's make 'em memorable

Spike: In terms of a plan?
Angel: We fight.
Spike: Bit more specific.
Angel: Well, personally, I kind of want to slay the dragon. Let's go to work. 

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