Somnambulist Wesley: (referring to the chair) I think it's about to speak. Cordy: Nobody likes a smart-ass rogue demon hunter. Wesley: Even a solitary soldier such as myself recognizes that a free exchange of intelligence benefits the common struggle. Also, I brought in your mail and newspaper. Wesley: How go things on your end of the good fight? Cordy: I've been giving the hard sell to an empty chair. What do you think? Wesley: Quiet all around then. Wesley: We made a most effective team, I felt. Vanquishing that empathy demon in such short order. Cordy: Yeah, well, nobody gouged out my eyes, so I'm happy. Wesley: Yes, most effective -- your cryptic visions, Angel's brawn, my highly developed powers of deduction... Cordy: This isn't our mail. Angel: Who were you talking to? Cordy: Nobody. And Wesley. Cordy: Wow, you look half-dead. Which for someone who's completely dead would be...kinda neat? Cordy: Oh my god! You cut up Dr. Folger's newspaper? You're going to get us kicked out of this building. Wesley: Notice the modus operandi? The mutilation of the corpse with a religious icon? Cordy: I'm against it? Wesley: While executing my duties as Watcher in Sunnydale, I did extensive research, specifically on Angel -- given his uncomfortable proximity to the Slayer. Cordy: He looked pretty comfortable to me. Cordy: I don't care how many files you have on all the horrible things that he did back in the Powdered Wig Days. He is good now. And he is my friend. And nothing you or anyone else can say will make me turn on a friend. Angel: Cordelia, he's right. Cordy: You stake him, and I'll cut his head off. Angel: I'm not gonna hurt you. Cordy: Oh, is that what you said to Miss Third Body Found in Alley? Wesley: Why should we believe a word you say? (Angel knocks the cross out of Wesley?s hand and pins him.) Angel: That's how fast I could take you if I wanted to. Wesley: All right. We're listening. Angel: I have no memory of doing any of these things. Cordy: Oh, not exactly the confidence-inspiring denial I was looking for. Wesley: You fear these might be more than just dreams, that you're acting them out in some sort of hypnagogic state. Cordy: Hypna-wha-gic? Wesley: Sleepwalking. Cordy: Vampires can't sleepwalk. He'd take one step out the front door, and his PJ?s would burst into flames. Cordy: Glamorous LA life. I get to make the coffee *and* chain the boss to the bed. Gotta join a union. Angel: Cordelia, I think that's tight enough. Cordy: And if it turns out we're back on a liquid lunch? Better safe than cocktails. Cordy: Okay, well, pleasant... I mean, sleep tight. Angel: That's pretty much a given. Cordy: Good news, sports fans! There's been another killing. Okay, well maybe not so great news for the, you know, dead person. But at least now we know that Mr. I'm So Tortured didn't do it. Angel: I taught him well. Cordy: A real Psycho-Wan Kenobi. Cordy: Gallagher's changed his act more times than this dude has in the last two centuries. Why do you think he's doing the same old shtick? Wesley: Well, it's a classic, isn't it? Every time he smashes that watermelon with a sledgehammer, I just... Wesley: You can't walk into a police precinct with intimate knowledge of these murders and claim a 200-year-old Puritan's responsible. You'd be locked up faster Lady Hamilton's virtue. (to Cordelia) My apologies. Cordy: That's okay, I don't... I don't know what that meant. Kate: Angel, are you okay? I mean, not that the Brooding Man of Mystery thing isn't working for you. Wesley: So, I take it you told her everything. Angel: Just enough to get her killed. Wesley: Where'd you get the police radio? Angel: Police car. Penn: Join me for a drink. Angel: That's not why I'm here. Penn: Why are you here? Angel: To kill you. Penn: You know its name? Angelus, what's happened to you? Angel: People change. Penn: We're not people. Cordy: So, you've discovered the seamy underbelly of a candy-coated America, have you? Well, you've come to the right place. Here at Angel Investigations, we won't judge, but we will charge. Penn: So this is more than just a professional relationship, then? He cares for her. Cordy: Oh yeah, more than he knows. But that's our Angel -- dour, sure, but not afraid to get personally involved in his work and you're totally pumping me for information, aren't you? Oh crap, you're him! He! The guy. Apt Pupil Boy. Penn: You realize you'll never make it to the exit before I... Cordy: (pulls blinds) Go up like match? Penn: Look who's back from his Up With People meeting. Angel: Get me a stake. Cordy: It's, like, eight in the morning! ...Oh. Penn: What? You don't drink, so now no one gets to? Angel: I don't expect you to understand. Penn: Oh, I understand. I was a Puritan, remember? Penn: You just wake up one morning and decide, "Okay, now I'm good"? No, Angelus, it doesn't end. It never ends. It just goes on and on. Cordy: It?s not the only thing that goes on and on. Angel: I'm sorry what I did to you, Penn, what I turned you into. Penn: A first class killer? A bold re-interpreter of the form? Angel: Try cheesy hack. Look at you. You've been getting back at your father for over 200 years. It's pathetic, and cliched. You've probably got a killer shrine on your wall. News clippings, magazine articles, maybe a few candles. Oh, you are so prosaic. Wesley: Nothing on the streets about a new vampire in town. (Penn grabs him) Which is maybe because he's here and has me by the throat. Angel: Hi. Can I come in? Kate: Oh, that's right. You have to be invited in, don't you? Angel: You been doing your homework. Kate: You wanna quiz me? I'm just full of fun facts. Angel: Let me help end it. Please. Kate: Please. Now there's a word I imagine you heard quite a lot in your time. Penn: This is a terrible likeness. The mouth, it's all wrong. Kate: What are you gonna do? Penn: Well, first I thought I'd stop everything and tell you my plan. Or better yet, why don't I just show you? Penn: You're my real father, Angelus. Angel: Fine. (Angel hits him) You're grounded. Angel: You missed. Kate: No. I didn't. Cordy: If you're wondering why this vein on my temple is doing the cha-cha, it's because I just had one of those bone-crunching, mind-splitting, vision headaches. Angel: I was just thinking about how much this place is like where I grew up. Cordy: Right. Yeah. I can see that, except for the cars, and the buildings, and the, you know, everything else. Angel: I wonder if anything ever really changes. Cordy: Sure it does. They do. You have. They were just dreams, Angel. They weren't even your dreams. They didn't mean anything. Angel: But I enjoyed it. Cordy: It'd probably be okay if you never mentioned that part ever again. Angel: It's still in me, Cordelia. Cordy: Sure it's in you -- we all have something. But it's not the only thing that's in you. You're not him, Angel. Not anymore. The name I got in my vision? The message didn't come for Angelus; it came for you. Angel. And you have to trust that whoever The Powers That Be... be... are... is, anyway, they know the difference. Cordy: People really do change. Angel: Yes, they do. Sometimes they change back. The day ever comes that I... Cordy: Oh, I'll kill you dead. Angel: Thanks. Cordy: What are friends for?