Expecting Angel: You look nice. Cordy: Aaigh! Oh, and now, I look like the Joker. Angel: Sorry. Cordy: Hopefully, I'm still too young and carefree for a heart attack. Would it kill you to hum a little tune when slipping up on people? Angel: I don't hum. Angel: Maybe we could be a little less young and carefree with the filing? Angel: Okay, so why is Mrs. Benson filed under "F"? Cordy: Because she's from France. Remember what a pain she was? Angel: Yeah, made me want to drink a lot. Cordy: Well, that's the French for you. Wesley: Hello! I was just in the neighborhood, patrolling with my new Bavarian fighting axe, when I suddenly thought, "Perhaps Cordelia's had a vision. Perhaps you need my help in the battle against evil." Angel: We seem to be evil-free at the moment. Wesley: I also packed along a Word Puzzle 3-D, if either of you has the nerve to take me on. Cordy: Gee, Wesley, I'd love to, but unlike you, I'm not in my 80?s quite yet. Wesley: If "shaking your booty" at the latest trendy hot spot is your idea of a life, then call me-- (He sees Emily and Serena.) --sick with envy. Emily: Wilson Christopher. Wesley: No! The ethnoarcheologist from Brandeis? Serena: The fashion photographer from LA who's been seeing Cordelia. Serena: (to Wesley) That Hugh Grant thing is really starting to work for me. Angel: So, you've been seeing someone. How come I didn't know? Cordy: Because I'm ashamed of you. Not to mention how you'd embarrass me by giving him the third degree. Emily: Your boss can give me the third degree anytime. Angel: So, that client I'm supposed to be meeting tonight, what's he like again? Cordy: Like a big baby, hatching from a big egg, with really large hands in need of a manicure. Serena: The good ones are always gay. Angel: That's right. Termites lay their eggs anywhere, such as next door. And we fight termites wherever they may roam. Wesley: Maybe we should clean up. (He looks at the damage.) Do you think a Tarval demon leaves a hefty security deposit? Wesley: Nobody's more fond of Cordelia than I, but if she wants to go gadding about with those doxies... Angel: I think they liked you. Wesley: Really? I didn't mean doxy in a sexually promiscuous sense exactly. You don't think sticking the axe in the wall put them off? Angel: That was charming. Wesley: What about the fact they thought we were gay? Angel: Adds mystery. Wilson: So you left Sunnydale and came to LA. What was that like? Cordy: Skydiving without a parachute. Except for the smashing your body to bits part. Actually, no, it was like that, too. Cordy: In high school, I knew my place. And, okay, it was a haughty place, and maybe I was a tad shallow... Wilson: Oh, hey, nobody feels like they belong here. That's sort of the point of LA, to make you feel as insecure as possible. Cordy: Um, you don't have to-- Wilson: Call you? Cordy: Go home? I mean right away. It's still early...in Australia. Wilson: You live alone, right? (The lights turn on.) Cordy: In the sense that I'm the only one living here that's actually alive. Cordy: All right, Dennis. Knock it off. This is the one guy I've actually liked in a long time. And if you keep killing the mood, I'll kill you! Alright, empty threat -- you being a ghost and already dead. But I'll do something worse! I'll play Evita around the clock -- the one with Madonna! Wilson: Who're you talking to? Cordy: My ghost. I have a ghost. He's jealous. Cordy: What would I say to him? "I had a really great time, I think you left something at my place?" Angel: You're not alone. Cordy: That's sort of the problem, isn't it? Bartender: I didn't see you. Angel: I get that a lot. Bartender: So, you're the boyfriend? Angel: No. I'm family. (Cordelia drinks blood from Angel's fridge while Angel and Wesley watch.) Angel: I don't think I've ever realized just how disgusting that was. Wilson: This is a private club. Featured word: Private. Angel: You don't talk to me, I'll kick your ass. Featured word: Ass. Wilson: Angel, right? Her boss? She told me all about you. (Angel grabs him in a choke hold.) Angel: Somehow, I doubt that. Wilson: I'm not telling you anything. Angel: I was so hoping you'd say that. Angel: How else would losers like you get ahead? You'd have to become procreative surrogates for a vile demonic entity. Jason: Well, mostly, I do it for the sex. Angel: I really hate it when people shoot me. Wesley: We can end this without harming the women. Oh, just one tiny problem. Angel: What's that? Wesley: Well, I don't want to use the words "impossible to kill," but... fire won't kill it. Decapitation won't. It's really huge. Demon: Who are you? Wesley: Wesley Wyndham-Price, Rogue Demon Hunter. And I'm here to fight you, sir, to the death -- preferably yours. Wesley: As a point of courtesy, I like to get to know my opponents before I engage them in mortal combat. Do, uh, do you have any hobbies? Cordy: I really hate dating. Wesley: If you need more time, Angel can manage. I've been helping out a little, and... someone forgot to close the filter again. Angel: Of course, if you're ready to come back... Cordy: This producer was so nice. He said I was his first choice. We're going out to dinner tonight. Angel: Tonight? Wesley: Well, best you get back on the horse, I suppose. Cordy: He is so sweet! He says that all I have to do is let him impregnate me with his demon master's seed, and I've got the part! Cordy: I'm a lot stronger than those demon surrogates thought. Angel: I'm startin' to learn that. Cordy: I learned something, too. I learned, um, men are evil? Oh, wait. I knew that. I learned that LA is full of self-serving phonies. Nope. Had that one down, too. Sex is bad? Angel: We all knew that. Cordy: Okay, I learned that I have two people I trust absolutely with my life. And that part's new.