Conviction
(Los Angeles – Alley – Night)
(A young woman is walking through an empty alley in the dark when a vampire jumps out at her. She screams, and Angel hears her scream from his vantage point atop a high-rise building.)
Girl: (backing away from the vampire slowly) Please, you don't have to do this. I can get you money. You don't have— (the vampire grabs her; she screams) Somebody help! Aah! Aah!
(Angel runs across the high-rise's rooftop, grabs hold of a rope, and jumps off. He swings to the alley between the buildings ala Spider-Man. As he nears the ground, Angel kicks the vampire in the face, knocking him down. Angel does a back flip in the air as he touches down, his black leather coat billowing around him like Batman's cape. He turns around and saunters toward the vampire.)
Angel: Doesn't sound like the lady's interested. Maybe you're coming off as too needy.
(The vampire does a fancy karate move to get himself up off the ground as he launches into a side kick into Angel's ribs. They fistfight as the girl looks on. Angel finally kicks the vampire in the chest, knocking him down flat on his back in the alley. In another impressive karate move, the vampire arches his back and leaps to his feet to engage Angel again. Angel grabs the vampire's foot and spins him around in the air as he hurtles the vampire into the wall. The vampire falls to the ground again. Angel pulls a stake out of his belt, twirls it like an old gunfighter might, and lunges it dramatically into the vampire's chest. The vampire disappears in a cloud of smoke.)
Girl: (in awe) What ju—I don't understand.
Angel: Look, don't try. Just get yourself home and stay out of dark alleys. You'll be all right. (smiles, walks away)
Girl: (asking after him) But...who are you?
Angel: (without turning around) It doesn't matter.
(Cars screech. A group of armed men dressed completely in black gather suddenly at the end of the alley, pointing guns in Angel's direction.)
Man: Angel! (into his CB) Area's secure. Angel is unharmed. Hostiles contained. Sweep area and confirm. (pulls off his ski mask, to Angel) Angel, sir.
(Several cars pull up to the end of the alley, all with their headlights pointing at Angel. Several people get out and walk toward him.)
Lawyer: Angel!
Man: We got report of your movement and came for backup.
Angel: But—
Man/Hauser: I'm Agent Hauser. I run your operations team.
Lawyer: Angel! (out of breath) Hi. Glad we caught you. Really would— (to another lawyer, a notary) Get the forms from her. (to Angel) Really would prefer it if you didn't leave a rescue scenario until we had a chance to control the scene. Of course, that is your decision, sir, but—
Angel: (confused) How did you guys—
Lawyer: (points to Angel's collar) Tracking monitor in your lapel. And what a time-saver, too, huh? (looks at his watch)
Notary: (holding a contract, speaks to the girl) This is to confirm that you have been rescued by Angel, C.E.O. and President of Wolfram and Hart, (flips page) and this is to indemnify Wolfram and Hart—
Lawyer: (pushing Angel in the direction of the girl) If we can just get a couple pictures of you two, that would be great. (whispers) Now, uh, the vampire that you terminated, he actually did work for one of your clients. (smiles) So, but, hey! First week, no one will squawk, ok? (pats Angel on the shoulder)
Girl: (to Angel) You run a law firm?
Angel: (innocently) No. I mean... well, sort of. (camera flashes) Well, just lately.
Notary: (to the girl, who's busy staring at Angel) I need you to initial here concerning your immortal soul.
Girl: (signs the document while questioning Angel with disgust) You did this for publicity?
Angel: No! I help...(realizing it sounds silly) the helpless.
Lawyer: (to Angel) Would you like me to bring your car around, sir? Or anything at all? Mocha? Latte? Decaf?
(Angel looks around at the array of dozens of people in utter disbelief.)
(Elementary School – Day)
(Children are walking through the halls between classes.)
Boy: Hey, Matt! Wait up!
Matt: Did you get to the store?
Boy: They didn't have a lot. I got Punisher.
Matt: My dad won't let me read that.
Boy: Oh, man! It's so good. He kills everyone. You can borrow mine.
Matt: OK. Do you have X-Men?
Boy: Which one?
Teacher: (as the boys walk into the classroom, the teacher hands Matt a paper) Matthew. It's pretty good. We can talk about it after class. OK, let's settle down, everyone.
(Wolfram & Hart – Lobby)
(The mail clerk pushes a basket full of office mail down the hallway. The top package is an envelope addressed to Angel. As the clerk passes the elevator, the elevator bell pings, and the focus turns toward it. Inside, front and back sets of doors open, and Fred stands there confused, holding a box of papers and personal belongings, looking out the wrong side. Wesley walks up to the elevators from the lobby, holding a coffee mug.)
Wesley: Fred?
Fred: (as the elevator doors begin to shut) Wesley! (Wesley holds the doors open as Fred walks out toward him) Oh! I'm always getting turned around. (looks around the lobby in awe)
Wesley: Can I help you with any of that?
Fred: It's so big.
Wesley: It does take some getting used to.
Fred: Have you seen my lab? It's giganamous. And I'm in charge.
Wesley: I'm sure you'll have no trouble—
Fred: I don't even understand half of what they're doing. There's this machine, 6 feet tall, it makes this noise— whoompa! Whoompa! Phht! Not a clue.
Wesley: Well, I'm still stuck back at, "Why on earth are we here?"
Fred: What, because we're crusaders against evil and now the law firm that represents most of the evil in the world has given us its L.A. branch to run however we want, probably in an attempt to corrupt, divide, or destroy us, and we all said yes in, like, 3 minutes?
Wesley: (breathes deeply, then nods) Your run-on sentences have got a lot less pointless.
Fred: Oh, that's so sweet. And a tad condescending.
Wesley: Uh, you sure I can't help you—
Knox: (from the lobby stairs) Ms. Burkle! (runs toward Fred)
Fred: Hi! Oh, um, Wesley, this is Knox. And I told you to call me Fred.
Knox: A-any minute now, I'm gonna start. Ha! That's a promise from me to you. (points to the box) Can I help you with that?
Fred: (smiles) Oh, thank you.
Wesley: So, Knox, how long have you been, uh, evil?
Knox: Oh! Heh! I just mix the potions, you know? And now that I'm taking orders from "el jefe" here, I'll probably be saving the world on a weekly basis.
(Fred giggles.)
Wesley: Good for you.
Knox: Do you know how to get to your office from here?
Fred: Why, did somebody eat my breadcrumbs?
Knox: Heh! It's not that hard. I'll show you.
Fred: Thanks, Knoxy. (they start up the stairs, Fred turns around to Wesley) Oh! See ya!
Knox: (to Wes) Oh, it was nice to meet you.
(Wesley watches Fred leave.)
Gunn: Think fast! (throws a basketball toward Wesley, who catches it in his belly with one hand because the other still has the coffee mug) Heh! Gotta be faster than that in this place.
Wesley: Cricket's more my game.
Gunn: I've made up my mind. How's Fred doing?
Wesley: I'm sure Knoxy will take wonderful care of her. Don't you think it's a bit unseemly adding y's to the ends of people's names?
Gunn: Does that mean I have to call you "Westle"?
Wesley: (frowns) Made up your mind about what?
Gunn: (pulls Wesley toward the offices) Oh! I want the one on the left. This one makes me feel a little bit less completely out of place. I'd say 17% less. Plus... (gestures toward the windows) a little bit of a view of the mountains. Lived my whole life in L.A., now I find out there are mountains. A brother should be told.
Wesley: It's very nice.
Gunn: So's yours. I mean, if it works for you. (walk to the adjoining office) We can switch if you don't like the—you know, the kung pao or whatever.
Wesley: Fung shui.
Gunn: Right. What's that mean again?
Wesley: That people will believe anything. Actually, in this place, feng shui will probably have enormous significance. I'll align my furniture the wrong way and suddenly catch fire or turn into a pudding.
Gunn: You having second thoughts?
Wesley: You're not?
Gunn: Man, do I look like I belong here? You got the mystical creds at least. I just hit stuff. I mean, even if this works, and we can turn this place around, use it to do some good, it's gonna be a long, long while before any of us gets anywhere near comfortable here.
(The focus moves to Lorne, who's walking through the lobby, talking on a cell phone, accompanied by a man holding three binders.)
Lorne: Oh, sweetie, it's perfect! Yes, it's perfect. It's the project you've been waiting for. Yeah, it's "Joanie Loves Chachi" meets "The Sorrow and the Pity." It's "Joanie Loves Pity." And you're— (puts the phone to his shoulder and nods at one of the binders the man beside him is holding out) yeah, that carpet's great because I want our clients to become dizzy and vomit. Keep flipping, huh? (to the phone) Yeah, you're a shoo-in. The part's yours. Yeah, I've got a whole freezer full of horses' heads downstairs. No, I'm just kidding. But listen, the producer's a client, so read it and we'll talk. (to the man with the binders) OK. Better. Horrible and pathetic, but better.
(As Lorne walks by, the elevator doors open to reveal Angel standing inside. Gunn calls to him from the lobby.)
Gunn: You lost, boss?
Angel: (walks out of the elevator toward them) On a lot of levels. (gestures widely with his hands) Did you hear what happened to me last night? (starts walking across the lobby, flanked by Gunn and Wesley)
Gunn: You got lucky?
Angel: They put a tracer on me. I was working the town, helping the helpless, which is a thing I like to do. All of a sudden, the entire firm shows up in the alley.
Wesley: We'll make sure it doesn't happen again.
Angel: (buttons his jacket) We're turning this place inside out. If they wanna see how I handle running Wolfram & Hart, they're gonna find out. Everything must go...
(Angel’s Office)
(Angel opens both doors to walk into his office. He stops his sentence abruptly and stares at his desk.)
Angel: Starting with that.
(Pan over to reveal a young woman wearing a red suit sitting on the edge of Angel's desk with her long legs crossed and accentuated as she sits under the accent light.)
Young Woman: Hi. It's really neat to see you guys. (smiles)
Angel: (walks up to her, unbuttons his jacket) I'm pretty sure this is supposed to be my office.
Young Woman: Never happen again. Just wanted to, you know, see your face.
Angel: You like to make an entrance.
Young Woman: You always open both doors when you enter a room? (Angel looks down) I don't need to make an entrance. I need to make an impression. I'm gonna be your liaison to the firm. I'll help you find your way. My name is Eve. And just so we get the whole irony thing of the way... (picks up a shiny red apple from the desk and throws it to Angel)
Angel: (catches the apple) Who do you answer to?
Eve: The senior partners, and if you're thinking, which, by the way, you are, that you can use me to get to them, let go of the dream. I answer to them. I don't lunch with them.
Wesley: Still... a pretty powerful position for a young woman.
Eve: How exactly can you be sure I'm either of those things? (smiles, stands) OK, let me tell you how this works.
Angel: I thought I was in charge.
Eve: (pacing) Of the Los Angeles offices of a multi-dimensional corporation. Now, I'm stressing that last word because that's what we are. We're a business, and we have a bottom line. Now, you could take your new client list and start hacking away from the top down. A lot of our clients are demons, and... almost all of them are evil.
Angel: Almost?
Eve: Things are always more complicated than they seem, champ. (shaking her head) You can shut this place down, but... then...well, then you wouldn't have it anymore. If the place closes down, the connections dry up. Evil goes next door. (beat) This is the catch—I'm explaining the catch so you don't have to stand around wondering what it is. See, in order to keep this business running, you have to keep this business running. And that means keeping your clients—most of them, anyway—happy.
Gunn: (frowns) Means letting them get away with stuff.
Eve: (chuckles) Sweetie, they were getting away with it while you were all sitting around your hotel waiting for the phone to jangle. Well, you're on the ins now, and you can stop the worst of it. Maybe find some new solutions to some old problems. (smiles, chipper) Come on! Isn't anybody excited? This is a crazy time of fun. The most powerful evil around has given a pivotal position over to its sworn enemies. You're not scared, are you?
(Angel stares at Eve as he takes a bite of the apple with a crisp crunch.)
Eve: The client files are all in there. You might want to start going through 'em.
(Conference Room – Night)
(Angel, Lorne, Fred, Wesley, and Gunn are sitting around the conference table going through files. The table is full of papers and file folders, and the gang seems exhausted.)
Angel: This is unbelievable.
Fred: I think I've lost my appetite, which is kind of a first.
Lorne: (reading a file) Hmm, well, this is interesting. Apparently old Joe Kennedy tried to get out of his deal with the firm.
Angel: That explains a lot.
Lorne: Yeah, but George, Senior—he read the fine print. There's no one these guys don't have a piece of.
Angel: (stands) How are we even supposed to start making things right? (tosses a file on the table)
Gunn: (reading a file) Here's a winner—Corbin Fries. On trial for smuggling Asian girls in for cheap labor and prostitution. Been charged with drugs, gun running, nothing stuck.
Wesley: And that's one of our human clients.
Gunn: Looks like the trial's not going too well this time.
Angel: Hmm, first good news all day.
Gunn: (closes the file, looks at the table) I can't even remember which pile is which.
Angel: I'll get my secretary to go through it in the morning. Do I have a secretary?
Wesley: I imagine they'll find you someone who can stomach the idea of working for the side of the righteous.
Gunn: My impression is a lot of these guys are just opportunistic. They'll go with the flow.
Fred: You know we're gonna have to check the whole staff, make sure we don't have any die-hard evildoers plotting against us.
Wesley: (sits back) And here I was, worrying about the clients.
Angel: We're doing the right thing...right?
Lorne: Well, uh... (sits forward) We're doing it tomorrow, exalted one. My horns are falling asleep.
Angel: Yeah. You guys go get some rest.
Fred: What about you?
Angel: I'll work a while yet. Go on.
(Gunn’s Office)
(Gunn walks back to his office to grab his jacket. Someone speaks to him from the corner.)
Eve: Lot simpler fighting vamps on the street, wasn't it? Tricked-out pickup, loyal gang, just you and the pointy wood against the living dead.
Gunn: This gonna be a thing with you, jumping out at people, or do you just not have an office of your own?
Eve: I'm just wondering if you're ready for the next step.
Gunn: Or if maybe I'd like to go back to living on the street, eating garbage and watching my buddies get picked off one by one? (nods sarcastically) Yeah, that was the life.
Eve: (stands) So you're not backing out?
Gunn: You don't know me or you wouldn't ask that question.
Eve: I can see why the senior partners chose you. (hands Gunn a business card) Have fun. (walks out, the says over her shoulder) You'll feel like a new man.
Wesley: (watching from his office next door) What did she mean?
Gunn: (looks at the card she gave him) Tailor. Guess I'm not dressed for success. (shrugs)
(A flash of a black panther in a white room plays on the screen.)
(Angel’s Office – Day)
(Angel is going through papers on his desk. He picks up the envelope that was mailed to him, but puts it aside without opening it. He presses a button on his phone.)
Angel: (to phone) Um...can I get a cup of coffee or something?
Phone Menu Voice: You have reached ritual sacrifice. For goats, press one, or say "goats."
Angel: (hastily presses the button, pauses, tries again by pressing a different button) Hello?
Woman: (on phone) This is Angel's office. How can I help you?
Angel: This is Angel.
Woman: (on phone) No, this is his new assistant.
Angel: No, this is Angel.
Woman: (on phone) Are you sure?
Angel: (scoffs) Less and less. Can I get a cup of coffee? Or if there's blood—
Woman: (on phone) Oh! Right away.
(Angel presses the button to hang up, but he's switched to the previous line.)
Phone Menu Voice: To sacrifice a loved one or pet, press the pound—
(Angel hastily presses the button to hang up, holding it down longer this time. He stares at the phone, disgusted, for a moment, then goes back to his papers. The phone rings, and Angel answers it on the speakerphone.)
Angel: (to phone) Hello?
Wesley: (on phone) It's Wesley. Can I stop in? We might be into a situation.
(Angel's secretary brings him a mug and places it on his desk in front of him.)
Angel: Uh, sure. Come on by. (sips from his mug, then looks up at his secretary) Harmony.
Harmony: Hey! Boss.
Angel: You're my secretary?
Harmony: (sighs indignantly) Hello! Assistant.
Angel: Explain why I shouldn't kill you.
Harmony: Secretary's fine.
Angel: (stands) No, it's not fine. Where is it fine? You've been working here?
Harmony: Yeah-huh.
Angel: Why?
Harmony: (scoffs) Well, duh! I'm a single undead gal trying to make it in the big city—I have to start somewhere. And they're evil here, they don't judge. They've got the necrotempered glass— (dances in front of the window) no burning up—a great medical plan, and who needs dental more than us?
Angel: This is surreal.
Harmony: Now, before you go threatening to fire me—
Angel: I threatened to kill you.
Harmony: (backs up slowly) Don't let's quibble. Before anything, just think—I'm strong, I'm quick, I'm incredibly sycophantic—if that means what that guy said—and I type like a superhero...if there was a superhero whose power was typing. And, hey, we keep the same hours. Creatures of the night...(holds her fist up) unite.(hands him his mug again) How do you like your blood?
Angel: Tell me that's not—
Harmony: It's pig's blood. I'm totally off the human blood. That's not even a thing.
Angel: (smells it) It tastes—
Harmony: Pretty good, right? (leans in) The extra ingredient is otter.
Wesley: (knocks, opens the door, and walks in) Angel, it's one of our cases. It's becoming problematic. (nods to Harmony) Harmony.
Harmony: Hey, Wes.
Angel: (to Wesley) You knew that she was—
Harmony: Wes is the one that picked me out of the steno pool.
Angel: But why... You, uh... (sighs)
Wesley: Well, I thought a familiar face would be just the thing in a place like this.
Angel: (shakes his head) You turned evil a lot faster than I thought you would.
Wesley: Nonsense.
Harmony: We're gonna get along great, boss. The whole gang. I mean, Cordy is gonna lose it when she finds out— (notices that Angel and Wesley are frowning) I mean...you are gonna tell her you're OK with this, right? I mean, I know she was mad at me for trying to kill you all, but she wouldn't—I mean...
Wesley: I thought she knew.
Angel: Cordy's sick. She's in a coma.
Harmony: (shocked) Oh. God, I—I didn't... What happened? Is she gonna be OK?
Angel: We don't know.
Harmony: (nearly in tears) Cordy was my best friend, like... my whole life. She's my role model. How can she... (breathes deeply, then is chipper again) So, anyway, I really think you should not fire me, and Wes does, too.
Wesley: Harmony, would you ask the men in my office to join us, please?
Harmony: Righty-ho. (nods, exits)
Wesley: If there's a way to help Cordelia, we will find it.
Angel: What's the case?
Wesley: (hands folder to Angel) Corbin Fries. The lowest piece of pond scum I've met in, oh, hours. He's about to get 20 years for kidnapping, pimping—
Angel: I saw the file. (hands it back to Wesley)
Wesley: Yeah, well, personally, I think he deserves to be eaten by weasels, but he's hinting we'd best help him. Threatening, actually.
Angel: (the door opens) Mr. Fries.
Harmony: Mr. Fries, this is Angel.
Wesley: I've been bringing him up to speed on your case. (gestures toward the couches in the corner of Angel's office)
Fries: (flatly) Terrific.
Keel: (to Angel) Desmond Keel.
Wesley: One of ours.
Angel: Nice to meet you.
Keel: I've heard, uh, things.
Harmony: Would anybody like coffee?
Fries: Oh, yeah, let's all chit-chat and have tea and crumpets 'cause I got so much time. Here's the skinny: Tomorrow the D.A. Puts my tit in a wringer for good and all, and that... does not stand with me. Butt-munch here, he got his law degree at dog training school, (Harmony giggles) and the prosecution has everything they've ever dreamed of.
Angel: Because you're guilty.
Fries: Of course I'm guilty. What the hell are you changin' the subject for? The point is, when Holland Manners was running things, this would've never got to trial. Now, I bring a lot of money into this firm, more than most, and I don't do that so I can be handed over to the frickin' law. (points at Angel) You... gotta get me off.
Angel: It's strange, my lack of incentive.
Fries: You think I give a ferret's anus about your new regime here? Yeah, I know who you are, and I care to the sum of zero. You're my lawyers. And if you don't do every last thing to keep me out of jail, you will regret it.
Keel: Well, we can't dance around this one. We're not in a position to have anyone killed. (Angel and Wesley glance at him) Not that we would. And the jury's, uh, tamper-proof. Literally. I think one of the D.A.'s shamans has conjured a mystical shield around them.
Wesley: So this one has to be won on the merits of the case.
Keel: Now, we have top men on this—
Fries: Who are doing jack! I am not gonna be made an example of. Either you get me off tomorrow—
Angel: I think you should calm down.
Fries: (walks up to Angel, in his face) To hell with calm down. Either you get me off, or I drop the bomb.
Wesley: Bomb?
Fries: Let me put it this way: If they bring in a conviction, bye-bye, California. I say the magic word, the only people left standing are gonna be the ones that are already dead.
Harmony:(sighs) Oh, well, that's a relief. (stutters) I mean— (points angrily) Hey!
(Conference Room)
(Lorne opens a notebook and addresses a room full of people. He has some paperwork in front of him with the names of every employee of Wolfram & Hart. Next to each name are 5 columns. The column titles are OKAY, ON THE BUBBLE, EVIL, TO BE FIRED, YIKES!)
Lorne: OK, well, we all know why we're here. So why don't we get started. Uh...Cindy Rabinowitz?
Cindy: (singing off key) There once was a woman who loved a man, He was the one that she took poison for, They say that nobody ever loved as much as she, But me, I love you more…
(Fred’s Office)
(Knox is in Fred's office helping her move in. Fred's busily hanging a poster. Knox plays with her toy duck.)
Knox: So...he can read your mind?
Fred: Oh, while you're singing, he can sort of feel out your aura, your future. It should help us weed out the, you know, most evilest, which I'm sure you're not.
Knox: Hey, I'll go up there right now, warble away. I want you feeling 100% secure running this lab.
Fred: Yeah, that'll never happen in this lifetime. (tacks one corner of the poster to the wall) Uh, evil aside, I'm not sure that I'm much of the running-things type. I'm more the running-away-from-things type. (tacks the other corner of the poster to the wall)
(The telephone rings, and Fred goes to answer it, letting the poster unroll to reveal it's a Dixie Chicks poster.)
Knox: Why do I have trouble believing that?
Fred: Maybe you're not very bright. (to phone) Hi, this is Fred. I mean, Practical Science Department, this is the head...Fred. How may I help you?
(Angel’s Office)
(Fred and Lorne have joined Wesley and Angel in Angel's office.)
Fred: Blow everybody up?
Angel: Well, he said "drop the bomb." We don't know what that means.
Wesley: We very nearly found out.
Angel: What? I'm not allowed to hit people?
Wesley: Not people capable of genocide.
Angel: Those are exactly the types of people I should be allowed to hit!
Lorne: Hey, back to the here and now, chickadees. Where do we stand?
Wesley: We need to find out about this bomb and somehow disable it in case that jury comes in with a conviction. (Angel nods) We think it may have some mystical element.
Angel: Fries said, "I say the magic word." He could mean exactly that.
Wesley: Which is my department. We also think it probably isn't an explosive. This isn't the sort of man to risk his own life. So that could mean more magic—
Fred: Or it could be a virus, ebola kind of thing.
Angel: Right. The main thing is, any of this stuff could've come from right here. Keel, the lawyer, says he doesn't know anything, and I believe him.
Fred: Why?
Angel: He's terrified.
Lorne: (nods) It's going around.
Wesley: Fred, go through the lab records. See if Wolfram & Hart deals in viruses. Lorne, you're in the courtroom. Monitor the case. Let us know how it's going.
Lorne: But lunch with Mary-Kate... She was gonna tell me about Ashley's new piercing.
Harmony: I paged Gunn 3 times. Still nothing.
Fred: Why isn't he here?
Lorne: Why is she?
Harmony: Long story.
Angel: Maybe not.
Harmony: Oh, and I got Spanky's address. (hands a note to Angel)
Lorne: Spanky?
Angel: Freelance mystic. He's showed up in Fries' files a few times. I'm gonna do some legwork.
Fred: Can you get there by sewer?
Angel: Not this time.
(Parking Garage)
(The elevator bell rings, the doors open, and Angel walks out into the dark basement garage. It's full of classic sports cars from every decade. )
Angel: (looks at them, unable to decide) Oh, God, they're so beautiful! (chooses a yellow 1970's era car, opens the door)
Hauser: (walks out from the shadows to speak with Angel) Sir?
Angel: Hauser, right?
Hauser: We got word there's a floater you wanted brought in.
Angel: (walks up to Hauser) How exactly did you get that word?
Hauser: That's my job, sir. You want us to bring him in?
Angel: I'll take care of it.
Hauser: Traditionally, my unit handles all the wet work.
Angel: I know you meant field work.
Hauser: (smirks) Of course.
Angel: Mm-hmm. I'll take care of it. (walks back to the car) Later on, you can tell me all about tradition.
(Spanky’s Apartment)
(Angel knocks on the door, and a 50-something man walks to the door in a sweaty tank top.)
Spanky: So what do you want?
Angel: I'm here from Wolfram & Hart. Here about a job.
Spanky: Well, then....get your butt in here. Pardon the sweaty. I was working out. Uh, you want a drink? I got a pitcher of daiquiris.
Angel: I'm good, thanks.
Spanky: So am I. And I'm about to be better.
Angel: (walks around the apartment, stops, stares at something on the wall in front of him) Hmm. So tell me... (reveal that Angel's staring at a wall full of paddles and whips) why do they call you "Spanky"?
Spanky: I'm a big "Our Gang" fan.
Angel: That's what I figured.
Spanky: (sips his daiquiri) Look, buddy, I'm gonna be up-front with you. I got nothing against people doing their thing. It's a wide and wonderful world, but...I don't spank men. It's not a judgment. Men have fine, firm asses. You've been to the web site, you know how much I work on mine. But when you said Wolfram & Hart, I assumed you were here about a mystical job. (sips his daiquiri)
Angel: I am. The one you did for Corbin Fries.
Spanky: Yeah? OK, I don't discuss my old jobs. Mystic-client privilege.
Angel: You're gonna tell me what you did for Mr. Fries. Now... or very soon from now.
Spanky: I built him a container, a mystical vessel. You can put anything you want in it.
Angel: Like a bomb.
Spanky: A bomb, a curse, a golden retriever. Anything. I don't know what he wanted it for. The vessel just holds it until the magic word dissolves the vessel. (sets down his daiquiri)
Angel: OK, then, where'd you place the vessel?
(Spanky lunges around behind Angel, puts his forearm in front of Angel's neck, and squeezes.)
Spanky: You know what I'm doing now? I'm applying pressure to your windpipe. You'll pass out, and then I'll let Mr. Fries decide if he wants you to wake up again.Angel: Do you know what I'm doing now? Not using my windpipe.
(Angel grabs Spanky's forearm, and twists it around until Angel is behind him, still twisting his arm.)
Spanky: Vampire.
Angel: Capital "V." And there's something else you should know about me. (pushes Spanky forward a bit, still holding his arm, grabs a cricket paddle from the wall, and swings it at Spanky, sending him across the room) I have no problem spanking men.
(Doctor’s Office)
(Gunn sits patiently in the world's worst-decorated doctor's office waiting room. Finally, a man in a high-necked white dentist's shirt walks out holding a file.)
Doctor: (reading from the file) Charles...Gunn?
Gunn: (reading a magazine) Hold on a sec. This is deep stuff. Looks like Demi might be breaking up with Emilio.
Doctor: I'm afraid the magazines are a little out of date.
Gunn: Then you shouldn't keep people waiting for 5 hours. (puts down the magazine and stands)
Doctor: (leads Gunn into the next room) Not nervous, are we?
(Gunn looks around at the weird office full of electronic and mechanical gadgets.)
Gunn: No. Definitely past nervous here.
Doctor: So...I understand you were in the white room. Spoke with the conduit himself.
Gunn: That's between me and the big cat. We gonna do this thing?
Doctor: By all means. Please... remove your shirt.
(Wolfram & Hart – Fred’s Office)
(Fred and Knox are sitting on the floor going through papers that are strewn all over.)
Knox: (reading) Oh, OK, this could be bad.
Fred: Bad what? How? Where?
Knox: We did do some work with Fries on illegal pesticides, rodent killers, but this guy Lopez...
(walks up to Fred's computer)
Fred: The lab technician?
Knox: Yeah. I don't know him. (types, reads) Oh, OK. He was fired. Oh, no, I'm sorry. He was set on fire.
Fred: That's interesting. For working with Fries?
Knox: Maybe under the table. (types) There's a link to his name. A cult.
Fred: "The Black Tomorrow." Oh, thrills.
Knox: I think you were right, boss. These guys specialize in quick-fire disease scenarios: Sarin gases and viruses.
Fred: (stands, backs away) Which you all built.
Knox: Hey, no. We've contained more plagues than we've ever designed. (shrugs) I'm not all about destruction here.
Fred: We have to find out what he had access— (telephone rings, Fred rushes for it) Department of—Fred—Angel, yeah. It looks like our client might be playing with a virus. Spread by touch or maybe even airborne.
(Spanky’s Apartment)
Pan out to show Angel's still in Spanky's apartment, and Spanky's lying unconscious on the floor.
Angel: That's the bomb.
Fred: (on phone) Safe guess. So did you find out where he put it? (beat) Angel?
Angel: Yeah. I found out where he put it.
(Elementary School)
(Matt is talking to a girl in the desk behind him, when the teacher catches him.)
Teacher: Matthew Fries! Do you want to spend the rest of this class in the corner?
(Zoom in on Matt's chest while a heartbeat-like thumping sounds plays.)
(Doctor’s Office)
(Zoom through tubes rapidly, then zoom out to show the tubes are attached to Gunn's head via some contraption from the strange doctor's office. Gunn's grunting and gasping. The doctor hands him a cup with a straw, and Gunn drinks from it too fast.)
Doctor: Uh-uh-uh! Slowly, slowly. (Gunn is still breathing hard) Do you want to stop?
Gunn: Are we finished?
Doctor: Not quite yet.
Gunn: Then shut up and do it.
(The doctor continues with Gunn's treatment.)
(Wolfram & Hart – Lobby – Night)
(Fred and Wesley are walking through the lobby talking.)
Wesley: You got anything, Fred?
Fred: I'm not sure. We've isolated a few strains which fries may have had access to.
Wesley: Any antidote?
Fred: Nothing. The antidote probably died with the tech guy that made the virus.
Wesley: Fries must be immune. There has to be—
Fred: And we're not even sure which strain it is. I'm trying, Wesley.
Wesley: I'm not doing much better. I can't disable the trigger if I don't know the magic word. Short of killing Fries, I—
Fred: That could trigger it, too.
Wesley: I know. (sighs) Back to our respective grindstones, I guess.
Fred: (looks into Angel's office) He gonna be all right?
Wesley: He does seem to be taking it very personally.
Fred: Probably this place. (looks around) It gets to you. (walks away)
(Angel’s Office)
(Eve walks up to Angel, who's standing over his desk.)
Eve: Rough day at work?
Angel: His son. He took a lethal virus, and he stuck it inside his son.
Eve: Hits you where you live, doesn't it? (Angel stands, glares at Eve) Of course I know. You lost your son. Well, gave him up.
Angel: To save him.
Eve: Which you did. He's happy and well-adjusted now that he has no memory of you, and the rest of the world, including your best friends, (whispers) never even heard of Connor.
Angel: That's not a name I want passing through your lips.
Eve: (grins, coyly) And what would you like passing through my lips?
Angel: News flash: You're not cute when I'm angry!
Eve: I'm just curious how you're gonna play it.
Angel: Well, I'll isolate the boy if it comes to that. Stop it...from spreading.
Eve: Here's the news from this sector: If every case hits you this hard, you're not gonna last a week.
Angel: Now, I don't want you coming into my office again unless I ask for you. I don't want to hear another word right now unless you decide to start helping out.
Eve: How do you know I'm not?
(Science Department)
(The table is full of 8"x10" glossy photos of victims of deadly ebola-like germs and diseases. Interspersed among the photos are Chinese food boxes, sauces, and chopsticks, as if whoever was looking at the photos was eating while doing so. A very tired Knox is looking through a microscope when Fred walks up to him.)
Knox: Yeah, I'd say we're looking at a retrovirus. Spread by touch. Some derivation of the phonaya strain.
Fred: Are you sure?
Knox: Couple more tests.
Fred: Are you running them?
Knox: I'll get someone on it.
Fred: Don't get someone on it, have someone on it. Did we build this thing? Do we have an antidote? Do—do we have an Antidote Department? Do you do anything besides pretending you're running an evil Radio Shack? (to the whole department) Y'all are tired, I know. I just want you to understand that in a few hours a virus is gonna start spreading in this city that'll kill every person in it, and when blood starts streaming out of our noses, eye sockets, and fingernails, I'll have the intense satisfaction of knowing that I'm dying with the only people in the world that actually deserve it! Now, focus, people! (walks upstairs to her office) Work the damn problem! (slams door)
Knox: You're the boss.
(Courtroom – Day)
(The courtroom is full of onlookers as Fries's trial comes to a close. Lorne is incognito in the audience, wearing gloves, a hat and sunglasses.)
Keel: Your honor, the defense objects to this entire line of questioning.
Judge: Yes, of course the defense objects. The defense always objects. I'm curious, Mr. Keel, is it just the sound of people talking that offends you? (the courtroom fills with laughter)
Keel: We still feel that this line of...
Lorne: (walks out of the courtroom to talk on his mobile phone in the lobby) Angel toes, Lorne. Hey, listen, I'm gonna go ahead and recommend we get that boy into isolation pronto.
Angel: (on phone) How long do we have?
Lorne: The defense is drawing it out, but the judge is making merry sport of them, and, well, now the jury's looking at Fries like he's O.J... without the commanding performance in "Towering Inferno."
Angel: (on phone) Do you think he's gonna say the word?
(Black Van)
(Hauser and his team of agents is gathered in a surveillance van listening to Angel and Lorne's phone conversation.)
Lorne: (on radio) Before they even deliver the verdict. He's dead meat, and he knows it. I think Fries, Junior, is about to become Patient Zero.
Angel: (on radio) All right. Thanks. Uh, I'll get to the school. Stay in there.
Hauser: OK. Let’s show the new boss how a threat is contained.
Agent: Terminate the kid?
Hauser: This is a level one, possible contagion. We take out the kid, the class, anyone within 50 yards. A clean sweep, people. No survivors, no witnesses.
(The black van speeds off as the agents inside cock their guns and prepare for the task ahead of them.)
(Wolfram & Hart – Angel’s Office)
(Angel rifles through papers on his desk hurriedly.)
Wesley: Fred's got the lab techs on track for an antidote, but it could be days. Same with removing the mystical container, I'm afraid. If we could get them to suspend the trial—
Angel: Not gonna happen. (grabs his coat) I gotta get to the school.
Harmony: Uh, boss?
Angel: (dismissively) It can wait.
Harmony: Maybe not.
Angel: (to Wesley) Go to the courthouse. Plan C. I'll let you know when I've isolated the boy.
Harmony: The special ops team already left for the school.
Angel: (stops, turns to her) What?
Harmony: They left, and they called for the cleaners to meet there. I have it from some of the girls "cleaners" means a big job. Lots of bodies.
Angel: How long ago?
Harmony: 10 minutes.
Wesley: You'll never beat them on the street.
Angel: Well, I gotta try.
Harmony: Um, boss?
Angel & Wesley: (simultaneously) What?!
(Elementary School)
(As the black van speeds toward the school, show that the class is still in session. About 30 children, including Matt Fries, are watching attentively as the teacher lectures.)
(Courthouse)
(Wesley walks into the courtroom and sits beside Lorne in the very back row.)
Wesley: How's it going? (Fries turns around and stares at them) Never mind.
District Attorney: ...calling witness after witness, each less credible than the one before...
Lorne: Yeah, so, what's the plan? You've got a plan? (Wesley sighs and opens his coat to give Lorne a glimpse inside where he has a gun.) Oh, and here I thought we were desperate.
(Elementary School)
(The black van full of agents pulls up to the school, and agents pour out. The gather in the hall outside the classroom and put their gas masks on. They kick open the door and toss a gas canister inside. Pan around to show the room is empty except for Angel.)
Angel: So it turns out, with this new deal and all, I own a helicopter.
Hauser: Where's the boy?
Angel: You just missed everybody. (waves the smoke out of his face) Oh, I probably don't wanna be breathing that.
Hauser: Kid's still a threat, which means you have him isolated, probably nearby.
Angel: I can see why they made you the leader. Do I even have to start with how fired you all are?
Hauser: (chuckles, removes his mask) That's not how it works.
Angel: Oh, right! Tradition. Why don't you show me how that's done?
Hauser: Thank you, sir. Take him out!
(Agents open machine-gun fire on Angel, who dives for cover behind the teacher's desk. After far too much shooting, one man approaches Angel with a wooden hunting knife. A vamped-out Angel overpowers the agent, then another, then leaps across the desks toward the other agents near the door. One agent starts to open a bottle of holy water, but Angel kicks it away from him. Angel uses the wall to propel himself into the air with a spinning kick to the agent's face. Angel lunges at another agent, pushing him out the door.)
(Courtroom)
(Wesley and Lorne sit nervously on the back row watching the proceedings.)
Judge: If there are no more objections, I'll hear final summations.
(Someone in a fancy suit and expensive shoes walks through the lobby carrying an alligator-hide briefcase. As he enters the room, pan up to show it's Gunn in a pin-striped suit with a silk tie, all decked out.)
Gunn: Your honor, the defense requests one more minute to confer.
Judge: Another defense lawyer. What a joy.
Keel: (Gunn whispers to him) Uh, Your Honor, at this point, I'd like to cede the floor to my colleague Charles Gunn.
Judge: So noted.
Gunn: Thank you. Your Honor, the defense moves for a mistrial.
Judge: (the judge stares blankly at Gunn as the whole courtroom starts to murmur) You are, of course, joking.
Gunn: Your Honor, that's the second prejudicial remark you've made against the defense since I entered the room.
Judge: What are your grounds for requesting a mistrial?
Gunn: You are, Your Honor. I'm asking that you recuse yourself from this trial.
Judge: The thin ice you are on is over very deep water.
Gunn: No judge shall be appointed to try any case concerning a business colleague or employee. (picks up a file) Permission to approach the bench.
Judge: These are...? (opens the file) What are you doing with my tax records?
Gunn: The highlighted portions indicate stock in Oriental Bay Exports, which is owned by Loros, Incorporated, which in turn is owned by a consortium that includes the defendant, Corbin Fries.
Judge: I have brokers who do my— You submit that I could possibly have known about this connection?
Gunn: I found out, and I've been on the case (looks at his watch) 6 hours.
Judge: The ice is melting, counselor.
Gunn: The defense submits it has learned how to swim. (looks around at the jury, who's laughing) I withdraw that statement with apologies. (picks up a thick law book) McCracken vs. The State of Maine,1954: "Any financial dealings shall be deemed the responsibility of the interested party, regardless of number or function of employees unless said party has been judged mentally incapable." (puts down the book) Permission to approach. And furthermore, the strain on my client's several businesses has forced Oriental Bay Exports to shrink its holdings of late. If Mr. Fries is convicted, the interest your honor has in it would represent a controlling interest. I would prefer not to present the rest of our findings in front of the jury.
Judge: I'll see counsel in my chambers. Right now.
(Elementary School)
(Vamped Angel is still fighting agents in the hallway. Finally, Hauser points a shotgun at Angel.)
Angel: (slips back to human face) You know that won't kill me.
Hauser: It'll hurt. That part's fun.
Angel: Agent Hauser, I'm honestly beginning to suspect that you're not part of the solution.
Hauser: You really think you can solve the problem? Come into Wolfram and Hart and make everything right? Turn night into glorious day? You pathetic little fairy.
Angel: I'm not little.
Hauser: That's exactly what you are. You're minuscule. A dust mote on the shelf of that great institution. Now, you think I'm just a trigger-happy jerk who follows orders, but I am something you will never be. I'm pure. I believe in evil. You and your friends, you're conflicted. You're confused. We're not. That is why you are gonna lose, because we possess the most powerful thing in the world... conviction.
Angel: There is one thing more powerful than conviction. Just one. Mercy.
(Angel kicks Hauser in the chest, forcing the shotgun to point at Hauser's head. A gunshot sounds, and Hauser and his gun fall to the floor. A bloody splatter covers the wall where Hauser's head used to be.)
Agent: What happened to mercy?
Angel: (walking out) You just saw the last of it.
(Flash to Eve, later, staring at the bloody mark on the wall.)
(Wolfram & Hart – Angel’s Office)
(Harmony brings a bottle of water to Eve as she chats with Angel, Wesley, Fred, and Lorne about Gunn.)
Eve: It's very simple, really. (to Harmony) Thank you. (to the group) Charles agreed to let us enhance his mind with a comprehensive knowledge of the law.
(Gunn uses a cigar cutter to snip the tip off of a cigar.)
Wesley: Without asking us?
Gunn: Mother, may I?
Fred: Without telling us?
Gunn: 'Cause I knew you guys would freak. Look, it's me here. They didn't evil me up. All I got stuck in my head was the law. And for some reason, a messload of Gilbert and Sullivan.
Eve: Standard. Great for elocution.
Angel: How can you possibly know they didn't do anything else?
Gunn: 'Cause I saw the man in the white room. He does a lot of scary things, but lying ain't one of them.
Eve: You needed a lawyer to get by here. Charles had the most unused potential. His degrees are all forged, but he's the real deal.
Gunn: You want me to sing for Lorne? I could give him a little "Pirates of Penzance." All of it, actually.
Eve: I would also point out that he did just save the day, without ever resorting to violence. (to Angel) How'd you do? (smiles) I think you guys are gonna make it work. Yay, team. (walks to the door) I'll see you around. (exits)
Lorne: Of course, saving the day meant getting the scumbag who was ready to sacrifice his own son off on a technicality and then returning said son to said scumbag.
Wesley: Fred and I have enough time to disable the charm now. He won't be in danger.
Gunn: And Fries is gonna have to dial down the criminal activities 'til this thing comes to trial again. Which I can draw out for months.
Fred: Is this gonna be our lives now? Fighting our own employees, our own clients? Are we really gonna do any good?
Angel: (rubbing his chin) Yes, we are. We're gonna change things. We came to Wolfram and Hart because it's a powerful weapon, and we'll figure out how to wield it.
Wesley: Or kill ourselves with it.
Fred: (flatly) Yay, team.
Angel: No, sooner or later they'll tip their hand, and we'll find out why they really brought us here.
(picks up the envelope from his desk) Meanwhile, we do the work...our way, one thing at a time. (rips open the envelope) We deal... (an amulet falls out of the envelope) with whatever comes next.
(Immediately, the amulet activates. A black whirlwind erupts from it, causing papers on Angel's desk to stir. The ashen whirlwind starts to glow with flecks of orange as something begins to materialize inside it. A man's skeletal form shows, then it gradually fills out until it's complete. The wind fades and Spike is standing there, screaming and grunting, in the middle of the office, right where the amulet fell.)
Spike: Aah! (doubles over in pain, panting, glaring ferociously)
Wesley: (softly) Spike?
Angel: (angrily) Spike.
Harmony: (sticks her head through the office door, smiling) Blondie bear?
Fade to black.
Season Five Guide