Sunnydale After Dark
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Written By: David Greenwalt
Directed By: James A. Contner

This episode originally aired on April 24, 2001


Previously on Angel:

Wesley: We've all discussed it and none of us are ready just yet to...

Angel: It's okay. I don't want you to come back and work for me. I wanna work for you.

Angel slices Lindsey's hand off to keep him from burning the scroll that holds Cordy's cure.

Angel: I'd be careful who you offer that hand to, Mr. Manners. You might just lose it. Isn't that right, Lindsey?

Lindsey: There's worse things to lose, aren't there?

Lilah: The senior partners want Angel alive.

Lindsey: Boo-hoo! Let me wipe away the tears with my plastic hand.

Lindsey: If he's not gonna play by the old rules, why should we?

Lindsey runs Angel over with the truck.

Lindsey beating on Angel with the sledgehammer.

Angel knocking Lindsey down then smashing his plastic hand with Lindsey's sledge.

Lindsey is lying in bed. The alarm clock radio (showing 6:45 am) comes on with a downtown traffic report (suggesting you better take the helicopter to work) and weather forecast (sunny, bright and beautiful).

Lindsey reaches over and hits the top of it with the stump of his right arm, turning it off.

Using his left hand, Lindsey shaves in front of the mirror.

He opens a dresser drawer and attaches his plastic hand.

Opens the closet and chooses one of several pre-knotted ties and slips it over his head. As he slides the knot tight his eyes fall on the guitar leaning against the back wall of the closet.

After a moment he steps back and closes the closet.

Joseph Kramer: Am I a lucky guy or what? I get to meet with the board and get the quarterlies out all in the same day.

We see an average white business man enter the family's kitchen as he tightens his tie. His wife steps up to him to get a quick kiss on the cheek.

Wife: Morning, sweetie. Hungry?

Joseph: Hmm, no time.

Wife lifts up a plate with muffins.

Wife: Ah, have a muffin.

Joseph breaks of a little piece from one of them and steps over to the kitchen table.

Joseph: Where's my sugar?

He holds out his arms and his young daughter comes and gives him a hug as he crouches down so she can reach his neck.

His son comes over, holding out his hand. Joseph takes it.

Joseph: And a manly handshake. (Pulls him into a quick hug) Come here.

Joseph checks his watch: Oh. We're late. We're late.

Wife: I'll go start the van. Jesse, you can take your vitamins in the car. Hayley, don't forget your homework. (Grabs her purse form the counter) Come on. Lets go.

The kids walk out the door. Joseph is liking off his fingers, reading the newspaper he's holding in his other hand.

Wife's voice form outside: Hayley, where are your books?

Joseph sees the book bag on the kitchen table and reaches for it.

Joseph: I got them!

Wife: And the vitamins?

Joseph: I got them, too. Just keep going.

Joseph slings the book bag over his shoulder and still reading his newspaper, reaches for the vitamins sitting on the counter.

Instead his hand closes around a big butcher knife lying next to them. Still reading, Joseph picks it up and starts walking towards the door.

Son: Come on, dad, we're gonna be late!

Never taking his eyes off the newspaper he stabs himself in the right eye with the knife. The scene turns blurry and we see Cordy reeling with the vision of Joseph stabbing himself. She tries to catch herself against the bookshelf, but only succeeds in knocking some books to the floor.

Angel comes rushing over: Cordelia. Cordelia. Cordy!

He catches a hold of her and looks up at Wesley and Gunn, who are also hurrying over.

Angel: Get her some water.

Gunn hurries off and Wesley and Angel crouch down beside Cordy.

Angel: Okay. What is it? What did you see?

We get more flashes of Joseph screaming, the book bag dropping to the floor, the bloody butcher knife.

Gasping and sobbing Cordy buries her face against Angel's chest, as Joseph drops facedown to the floor.

Angel: Easy. Easy. You're okay.


Wolfram and Hart, day.

Nathan Reed is sitting at the head of a conference table with fourteen lawyers, including Lindsey and Lilah.

Nathan: Where are we with Western Pacific Power?

Lawyer: The attorney general is threatening a thorough investigation.

Nathan: I know. That's why I'm asking, where are we with Western Pacific Power.

Lilah: We can tie it up in litigation forever, sir. They'll never miss a dividend.

Lindsey: Why should we? They already looted 3.5 billion since de-regulation.

Nathan: Are you suggesting that our clients admit that, Mr. McDonald?

Lilah: That's a great idea. They can come clean, and go to jail and pay us how?

Lindsey: Litigation is bad PR for public utility. We cut a deal now, they refund half a billion without admitting fault and we take twenty percent off the top, everybody wins.

Nathan: I'll consider both options. And the current status of Angel?

Lindsey: Angel? - He's up, he's down. - He's good, he's bad. He's a barrel of dead monkeys...

Lilah: He's back with his group, sir. According to *my* sources he's doing better, in the sense that he's not currently spending all of his time alone on the warpath trying to kill, well (looks over at Lindsey) us.

Nathan: Hmm. - Now, when are you and Lindsey meeting with the CFO from Lycor?

Lilah flips through her papers.

Lilah: Oh, uhm, I think it's...

Lindsey: Thursday at eleven.

Nathan: Good. - Friday we will be re-evaluating your division. You two can catch me up then. Let's get to work.

Nathan gets up and everyone follows suit.

Lilah to Lindsey: Could you stab me in my back a little deeper? I still have feeling in my legs.

Lindsey: Lilah...

Lilah: They're gonna be evaluating us and you know what that means. They'll promote one and cut the other. Around here, that's a literal cutting.

Lindsey: Well, nothing lasts forever.

Lilah: That's deep. Why don't you go...

Nathan: Oh, Lindsey. Why don't you join me in my office?

Lilah watches Lindsey enter Nathan's office with a sigh and stands there watching them through the glass walls.

Nathan: Lindsey, you had some good ideas in there.

Lindsey: Thank you, sir.

Nathan: We are in a funny business, but one word of advice - about your attitude towards Angel - now I realize what he did to you was (we get a close up of Lindsey's plastic hand) heartless. And naturally your attitude towards him would be complex, but - it's not very professional to air those feelings around your colleagues. (Lays a hand on Lindsey's shoulder as Lilah watches with a frown from outside the office) People look up to you around here. - Which reminds me (pulls out a little card) I made - an appointment for you today. (Lindsey takes the card) It'll take a while - so I cleared your calendar.

Lindsey as Nathan leads him to the door: An appointment.

Nathan: Yes, well, just a, uhm - well. You'll see.

Smiles at Lindsey and opens the door for him.

Cordy is sitting on a chair with the three guys arrayed in front of her.

Cordy: He had to be crazy. But he didn't feel crazy. He felt normal, you know? - Until he started stabbing himself.

Wesley: But you don't know where this occurred.

Cordy: I told you. It was in a house. It could have been in an apartment. In a kitchen.

Gunn: We got to narrow it down a little.

Cordy: An nice kitchen?! I don't know!

Angel: It's alright. We'll figure it out.

Wesley: Let's start by calling the hospitals.

Gunn: And say what? Did my uncle check in with a knife in his eye? They only give out information to relatives. (Angel and Wes look at him) I just got the calling the hospitals job, didn't I?

Wesley: I'll go to the morgues.

Angel: Alright. I'll hit the streets, roust some demons, see if there's a new terror in town.

Wesley getting his jacket: Good idea.

Angel to Gunn as he gets his own jacket: Keep an eye on her, will you?

Gunn: Sure.

Angel goes over to where Cordy is sitting and puts a hand on her arm.

Angel: We'll be back.

Angel leaves.

Gunn: Can I, ah, get you anything? A cup of tea? (Cordy gives him a look) You'll let me know.

Gunn sits down at the counter with the phonebook and a notepad, throws a look over his shoulder at Cordy, now is sitting in her chair, one hand pressed up against her forehead, her hair obscuring her face.

A nurse is taking Lindsey's blood pressure, as a Doctor enters the room.

Melman: Lindsey. I'm Doctor Melman. It's a pleasure to meet you.

Holds his hand out and shakes the left hand Lindsey offers him.

Lindsey: Hi.

Melman takes the cart from the nurse.

Melman: Let's see. Okay. Your basic vitals are good. You've had all the usual childhood diseases and your not allergic to any medication. Let's start him out with two milligrams of Verset. It's a little something to relax you before we begin the procedure. Do you have any questions?

Lindsey: One. What the hell's going on?

Melman: Your boss didn't tell you.

Lindsey: No.

Melman: They have a funny sense of humor over there.

Lindsey: Yeah, they keep us hopping.

Melman: Your firm is a major source of funding for our clinic. We see most of you for your primary care and whatnot, but - there are some other, less publicized aspects of our work.

Lindsey: What the hell are they gonna do to me?

Melman: Please, don't - don't be alarmed. They think the world of you. - That's why they moved you to the top of their transplant list.

Lindsey: Transplant.

The nurse hands Melman a syringe.

Melman: Yes, your hand. That's why you're here. We're gonna give you a new one. (He injects Lindsey) Don't look so nervous. This is cause for applause. In just a few hours time, you'll be doing the applauding.

Lindsey blinks woozily as the medication takes effect.

Blurry, slightly shaky picture of an operating room from the view of the patient alternate with clear shots of it.

Melman: Let's get the soft tissue ready for incision.

Someone hands the doctor a human hand.

Melman: Connecting the extensors.

Someone hands him a pair of snips.

Melman: Doing great, Lindsey. - Where is the Pockla?

Melman is putting in the last stiches.

Melman: Release the tourniquet. - I'm waiting on the Pockla.

Nurse: Here it comes.

A red robbed figure with long-fingered, claw-tipped hands suddenly materializes just inside the room and glides closer to the operation table whispering in some demonic language and waving its hands.

It sprinkles some powder over the seam between Lindsey's arm and the new hand and the stitches pull together and melt away, leaving only a thin red line behind.

The Pockla turns away and glides towards the closed door, dematerializing just before it reaches it.

Melman: Okay. Let's get him to post-op.

Shot of the outside of the Hyperion at night.

Gunn is sitting at the counter, talking to the phone while Cordy is cleaning the shelves in the background.

Gunn: Yeah, he's my father his name is Henry Addison.

In front of him is a list of hospital names, all crossed out.

Gunn: Yeah, I'm his son, Gunn-ter, Gunter Addison. - But-but if he's had a manic episode he might not know his name or might think he's somebody else. - It'd be a pretty serious knife wound or wounds in his eye. - You sure? - Alright. Thanks.

Gunn hangs up the phone as Angel walks up to the counter.

Angel: How's she doing?

Gunn looks over his shoulder at Cordy dusting the top of a cabinet.

Gunn: She's been pretty quiet. She grunted every once around noon then got on with the maniacal cleaning.

Wesley comes in: Guess what I found? More nothing than usual. How about you two?

Gunn holds up the pad with the scratched out hospital names and Wesley looks over at Angel.

Angel: Nothing.

Wesley: We need more to go on.

Angel quietly: Yeah, well, we'll just have to, you know, talk to Cordelia. Get her to...

Gunn: Dig a little deeper?

Wesley claps Angel on the shoulder.

Wesley: Go ahead. Probably best not to crowd her.

Angel: Me? You're the one in charge now.

Wesley sighs: You're right.

He starts to walk past Angel.

Wesley: That's why I'm assigning this one to you.

Wesley and Gunn walk away from the counter, leaving Angel alone, looking at Cordelia.

Throwing a glance at them, Angel steps around the counter towards Cordelia while Wesley and Gunn watch from the other end of the lobby.

Angel: Hey.

Cordy slows in the polishing of the black and white picture hanging on the wall but doesn't turn around.

Angel: Boy, I mean, you could see your reflection in that glass. - Well, I mean, I couldn't because of the whole - vampire situation, but a normal person? (whistles)

Cordy sighs, her back to him: What do you want?

Angel quietly: We need help. We're not getting anywhere.

Cordy looking down at her rag: I'm sorry. He's probably dead by now.

Angel stepping a little closer: We don't know that for sure. There could be others.

Cordy rubs her forehead: I wish it would stop hurting. (Turns around to face Angel) What do you want me to do?

Angel: I'm not exactly sure. - Maybe you can - look again? You know, inside.

Cordy: That's all I've been doing - all day.

She walks away from Angel over to her desk, rubbing her forehead. Angel throws a look at Wesley and Gunn. Cordy holds up a hand and closes her eyes.

Cordy: A guy in a kitchen. (flash to Joseph coming into the kitchen) A normal guy. - And he picks up a knife (Flash of Joseph picking up the knife) and... (flash of Joseph stabbing himself in the right eye on his way outside while still reading his newspaper) Oh, god. I think he had kids.

Flash on the kitchen table.

Angel: How do you know that?

Cordy: Cereal bowls - on the table, and, uhm, there was a book bag. (Flash to Joseph picking up the bag, then of the bloody knife and blood spattered bag dropping to the floor) It has a name of a school on it. Ah, D-something. Delaney, or, uh... (opens her eyes and looks at Angel) Delancy Schools.

Angel: That's good. That's great. - Anything else?

Cordy puts her hands to the sides of her head, then moves them to cover her face as we get another flash of Joseph dropping to the floor face down, a trail of blood running down the side of his face from his right eye.

Cordy: I just keep seeing it.

Angel: Okay. Get some rest. Wesley and Gunn'll look into it first thing in the morning.

Cordy nods.

Angel: Can I get you anything?

Cordy: *Why* does everyone keep asking me that?!

Angel slowly backs away shaking his head a little.

Angel: No reason.

Morning. Lindsey is waking up in his bed. Looks at his left hand and flexes it. Pulls his right hand out from under the covers and looks at the thin red line circling his wrist, flexing his new hand slowly.

The radio comes on and Lindsey reaches out with his new hand and turns it off.

Lindsey catches the water from the bathroom faucet in both palms and washes off his face. Looks at himself in the mirror.

He gets a tie out of the closet and sees his guitar.

Lindsey sits on the edge of his bed, holding the guitar. He flexes his right hand above the strings, then begins to pick at them experimentally, starts to play.

Lindsey is shaking hands with the CFO from Lycor, Nathan Reed standing next to them as Lilah walks up them.

Nathan: Oh, and here is Lilah Morgan. Mr. Kraigle.

Irv Kraigle shakes her hand: Lilah. Nice to see you.

Nathan: You guys can use my office, and, Irv, call me if you need anything. You're in - good hands, here.

Walks away with a smile.

Lindsey: We can go in now, Mr. Kraigle.

Irv: Oh, please, call me Irv.

Lindsey: Thank you, Irv.

Lilah takes Lindsey aside and indicates his new right hand.

Lilah: That's an expensive operation. The shaman alone's a quarter mil? I guess they like you. They really, really like you.

Lindsey: Client's waiting.

Lilah: I know you think you have this in the bag...

Lindsey: I don't think anything - Lilah.

Lilah: Oh, you're the one in pain here? (Shakes her head) I can't believe they chose you over me.

Irv: We didn't do anything wrong.

Lilah: It's not about right or wrong, Mr. Kraigle, it's about what a jury may or may not award.

Irv: How can you get cancer from eating chocolate?

The three of them are sitting at the conference table in Nathan Reed's office. Irv at the head with Lilah and Lindsey at either side of him. Lindsey is scribbling on the note pad in front of him without looking down at it.

Lindsey: By selling it in a tin that leaches cytoclistomine into the chocolate.

Irv: But we didn't know that. How could we have known that? The Chinese screwed us. They sold us the tin.

Lilah: Don't worry. If a jury ever hears this, and that's a big if, they'll be handpicked or enchanted by us.

Irv: Why can't people take responsibility for their own problems? We didn't give them cancer, the Chinese did.

Lindsey: Actually it was the Drizon company.

Irv: Who?

Lindsey: It's an offshore corporation that split from your company, oh, (looks over at Lilah) let's say six years ago. (Lilah nods) They are solely responsible for the manufacture and sale of the tin containers your company merely fills with chocolate.

Irv checks something in the papers in front of him, then sits back in his chair.

Irv: Really.

Lindsey: The plaintiffs want redress, they sue Drizon. Unfortunately they're going bankrupt this summer.

Irv sees that Lindsey is still writing on the pad in front of him.

Irv: Are you getting all this down?

Lindsey looks down with a frown and sees that his right hand is writing 'KILL' over and over onto the note pad.

Irv to Lilah: He's good, isn't he?

Lilah smiles at him.

Lilah: Yeah. He's great.

Lindsey is staring down at his hand as it continues to write 'KILL.'


Irv: Well, this is very helpful. Very - comforting. We're not doing anything unlawful here, are we?

Lindsey opens the fingers of his right hand and lets the pen drop, then takes a hold of his right hand with his left.

Lilah: No. And more importantly, we're preserving your company.

Lindsey gets up, taking the notepad with him.

Lindsey: Ahem, I have to go.

Irv: Something wrong?

Lilah: No. No. Nothing is wrong.

Lindsey sits at a desk in his apartment, pen to paper, waiting for his hand to start writing on its own. It doesn't move and he pokes it with his left forefinger. Nothing happens, so he pokes it again.

When it still doesn't move he finally picks up a letter opener and pricks it with it. Some blood beads up but the hand doesn't move.

Lindsey finally drops the pen and takes the letter opener in his right, turning it a few times before letting it drop as well.

Holds up his new hand and looks at it: Who are you?

Hyperion, day. Inside the lobby Angel accepts a box from a delivery guy, handing him some money.

Angel: Thanks. Keep the change.

Delivery guy on his way out: Wow. A whole dollar just for me. I'm the luckiest delivery man ever.

Angel turns to look as the door closes behind the guy then goes and sets the box on the counter.

Cordy from her desk: What's all this?

Angel: Lunch. I was hungry.

He sets wrapped sandwiches out in a row on the counter top.

Cordy gets up and comes over.

Cordy: You don't eat food.

Angel: Oh, I can. It doesn't keep me alive, but, you know, sometimes I get a hankering.

Cordy: You had a hankering for turkey, ham and roast beef sandwiches?

Angel points to one: You missed the vegetarian.

Cordy: Soup and salad, too? What is going on here?

Angel quietly: I forgot what you liked.

Cordy: Why didn't you ask me?

Angel: Well, you said, why is everyone asking you if they can get you anything, and-and I didn't wanna *do* that...

Cordy: So you did this - instead.

Angel quietly: Yup.

Cordy: I love you.

Angel's worried look melts into a big smile as Cordy picks up two sandwiches.

Cordy: And you ought to do *that* more often.

Goes back to her desk.

Angel: Buy you food?

Cordy: Smile.

She reaches her desk and hunches over as she has a flash of Joseph stuffing a piece of muffin into his mouth while reading the paper.

Angel comes over to her: What?

Cordy: Okay, this is weird. Before he put the knife in his eye he was happy. He was happy about *his* eye. Like it was new or - something.

Angel: New?

Wesley and Gunn walk in.

Wesley: I think we found him. A man named Joseph Kramer, has two kids, age twelve and nine, they go to the Delancy School.

Gunn: The kids didn't show up for school yesterday. Their mom called sayin' she was taking them out of the country. Their father supposedly got a promotion in the Seychelles.

Angel putting on his coat: Did you get a home address?

Wesley: We've already been there. I stood look-out, Gunn went in.

Angel: And?

Gunn: No trace of the family or any personal belongings. The place had been cleaned from top to bottom. The floors was polished, the carpet was still wet.

Angel: To get rid of the blood.

Gunn: There was a little piece of molding they missed up under the pantry.

Gunn pulls a piece of blood-smeared wood out of his pocket and holds it out to Angel.

Gunn: You want to sniff?

Angel reaches out and gently pushes his hand down: How about I just believe you, huh?

Wesley: What do we know?

Cordy: We don't know anything. The guy's gone, the family's gone. Someone or something has the power to make them all disappear in a day.

Gunn: We're at a dead end.

Wesley sits down on the edge of the desk: I thought we had more than that.

Angel: There is only we can do now.

Cordy: Oh, god. Oh, no.

Wesley: The Karaoke bar.

Gunn: Angel's gonna sing?

Cordy: Isn't there some other way?

Wesley: There has to be. Think, damn it!

Angel looks form one to the other: Hey! Wha..?

The Host is smiling, watching a guy up on the stage playing guitar and singing. It's Lindsey.

Lindsey: Pretty girl on every corner. Sunshine turns the sky to gold. Warm, warm, it's always warm here. And I can't take the cold.

Cordy and the others come walking in.

Cordy: You should pick something short.

Angel: I was thinking about Stairway to Heaven.

Wesley: Don't even joke about that.

Cordy: Oh, my god, look who's...

Angel: Lindsey?

Lindsey on stage: This whole world shines so brightly.

Host comes over to them: Isn't he fabulous?

Angel: He comes here?

Host: He used to come all the time before some caballero chopped off his strumming hand. - Looks like he's got a new one.

Lindsey: Pretty as a picture, she's...

Cordy: Wow. He's good.

Gunn: Lawyer's got some pipes.

Lindsey: Settles me with love and laughter.

Angel: You think he's good.

Cordy never taking her eyes off Lindsey: Shh.

Lindsey: and I can't feel a thing.

Gunn nods to the music as Angel looks up at the ceiling.

Lindsey: The sky's gonna open. People gonna pray and crawl.

Several demons are watching Lindsey up on the stage, smiling, tapping their hands to the music.

Lindsey: It's gonna rain down fire...

Angel: What is that? Rock? Country? Ballad? Pick a style, pal.

Wesley: Shh.

Host: Angel cakes. Don't make me ask you to leave.

Lindsey: The sky is gonna open, people gonna pray and sing. Oh, I can't feel...

He ends the song with a chord and the audience starts to applaud and cheer. Cordy is clapping as well, eyes still fixed on Lindsey.

Angel looks form Cordy to Gunn, who's nodding his head.

Cordy: We can't sing after that.

Host: You won't have to.

Cordy looks over at Angel as the host meets Lindsey halfway from the stage carrying two drinks.

Host: Golly, pilgrim. Sure is good to have you back in the saddle. (Hands Lindsey one of the drinks) Your favorite. T&T, the imported.

Lindsey takes the drink but only smells it.

Lindsey: Look, I got a crazy man's hand here who wants to kill - someone, maybe me, I don't know. What do you see?

Host leading him over towards where the A-team is standing: Well, you know what they say: the hand is quicker than the eye. You'll get that later.

Lindsey: Look. I need help.

Angel: I'll say. You might want to start with his singing.


Cordy slaps the back of her hand against Angel's chest and steps up to Lindsey.

Cordy: Hi. You probably don't remember me. Cordelia. I know you're evil - and everything, but that was just so amazing.

Gunn: That was kind of tight.

Wesley: Terrific, really.

Angel: Is everyone drunk?

Lindsey: What's he doing here, huh? (To Angel) What are you looking at?

Host: Easy, easy, children. I don't allow violence in *my* club. Angel's here for the same reason you are.

Lindsey: How's that?

Host: Two enemies, one case, all come together in a beautiful buddy-movie kind of way.

Gunn: They supposed to work together on this?

Lindsey: Work with him? (Host nods) Work with him?

Host: Am I the only one who saw 'Forty-eight Hours?'

Lindsey: I've got a murderous hand on me and you're telling me to team up with the guy who cut mine off in the first place?

Host: I'm telling you what's what, sugar. What you *do* with it is up to you.

Lindsey huffs, takes a sip from his drink before setting down on the bar and walking out past Angel.

Lindsey to Angel: If I see outside of the club, I'm gonna kill you.

Host: Uh, resentment is such an ugly emotion. I hope you've overcome yours, Angel, because right now he's got your case in (laughs) forgive me, in the palm of his hand. Toodles.

Gunn: If Lindsey's the lead, shouldn't we be following him?

Angel to Cordy: You said the guy in the vision just got a new eye. And Lindsey just got a new hand.

Wesley: Right. Then we should find out where the transplants took place.

Gunn pointing towards the door: So we're following him, right?

Angel: Actually what we need to follow (picks up Lindsey's glass) is his new hand. (Holds the glass up and looks at the fingerprints left on it) Wonder who it belonged to.

At a deserted Wolfram and Hart, Lindsey holds up a key card to the electronic lock on Nathan's office and enters it.

He walks through the dark office over to the computer on the desk. Sees a picture of Nathan Reed with his wife and son as he boots up the computer.

He types in username 'Reed, N' password 'Zen' and logs successfully on to Nathan's Personal Information Center. Clicks on the 'To Do' Icon, bringing up a list:

Blatt case deposition - March 5 - urgent - in progress

LA Office Assignments - March 6 - medium - in progress

Senior Partner Reports - March 8 - urgent - complete

Special Projects Reevaluation - March 8 - highest - pending

Jackson case brief - March 11 - medium - pending

Vacation plans - March 15 - low - in progress

Partner compensation - March 31 - medium - in progress

Feeder Negotiation - April 10 - medium - pending

New Associate Recruiting - April 10 - low - in progress

Shaman Contracts - April 15 - high - in progress

Europe fact-finding trip - April 30 - high - in progress

Lindsey brings up the 'Special Projects Reevaluation' screen holding a number of folders entitled: Project History, Personnel Roster, Manners Massacre, Bethany Project, Project Darla, Drusilla (vampire), Project Angel, Vampire Detectors, Lilah Morgan, Lindsey McDonald, Youth Center Project, Demon Relations, Terminated Employees, and Pending Projects.

Lindsey moves the mouse over his own folder, but then clicks on Lilah's instead.

The screen shows a picture of Lilah and her name. Current assignment: Co-Vice-President for Special Projects - Junior Associate, 1994, - Senior Associate, 1997, - Junior Partner, 2000 - Graduate of Montesori(?) University School of Law 1994 with High Honors - Law Review 1992-94 - recruited by Los Angeles Office - Supervised by Holland Manners.

Lindsey closes that folder and goes back to Nathan's To-Do list and types Fairfield Clinic into the search engine.

This brings up a picture of the clinic and a short report:

Fairfield Clinic is the primary health-care provider for the Wolfram & Hart Los Angels office employees.

Offering a wide range of health services the clinic provides first class care for our most valuable resource - our people. In addition to the usual rnage of health care offerings, Fairfield's research departments is at the forefront of development of advanced treatments. Perhaps no (?) in the workd has developed such a sophisticated use of demons in the therapeutic setting, allowing our employees benefits (?) which would be impossible with pure traditional means.

Fairfield Clinic's state of the art facility was financed by Wolfram & Hart as part of our ongoing health care partnership.

Angel comes walks into the Hyperion carrying a brown manila folder.

Angel: I got it. The hand belongs to a thirty year old white male named Bradley Scott, served two and a half years at Soledad for embezzlement, paroled last month.

Gunn: How'd you find all this?

Angel: I'm a detective.

Cordy: Did he have a life before prison?

Angel: I'm not sure. Why don't you just look him up on...

Cordy sits down at her computer and begins to type: I am.

Wesley: That's impressive, Angel.

Angel: Yeah, well, sometimes you just got to follow your...

Points at his nose.

Wesley: So, how did your (taps his nose) get you into the N.C.I.C.?

Angel: The what?

Wesley: The National Crime and Information Center?

Angel: Oh, that. Kind of a long story... (Moves towards Cordy's desk) How's it coming over there.

Gunn: We got time.

Angel: You know, when I was in charge here, nobody questioned my methods or my singing.

Cordy: You're half right.

Wes and Gunn just keep looking at him

Angel: Alright. I hired a private detective. He's got a friend on the force.

Wesley: *We're* supposed to be the private detectives.

Gunn: *We* are supposed to have a friend on the force.

Angel: We did, but she got fired. Get over it.

Cordy: Bradley Scott. Guess where he worked while he was dumping bearer bonds on the black market. Wolfram and Hart.

Wesley: I wonder if he's still alive.

Angel: Well, according to his records he reported to his parole officer once - then he disappeared.

Gunn: He goes to jail. They wait for him to get out, then (makes a chopping motion at his right wrist) whack! Wolfram and Hart gives his hand to Lindsey. I guess they really want to give their boy everything.

Lindsey leaves Nathan's office. As he walks down the corridor he sees Lilah rummaging through the file cabinets in the 'File Storage' room. Sees her fold up a page and stick in into her purse - in which she keeps a revolver before - he quietly backs away.

A guy is sitting on a sofa watching TV and drinking a beer when there is a knock on the door.

Guy: Who is it?

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

The guy turns off the TV and partly cracks the door.

Guy: What do you want?

Lindsey: I wanna talk to you, just for a minute. Can I come in?

The guy closes the door enough to release the safety chain, opens it again to let Lindsey in, then glances out along the corridor before closing the door.

Lindsey: No, it's okay. I'm alone.

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

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

Guy: What's the code?

Lindsey: Code?

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

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

The guy hits Lindsey across the chin, sending him crashing down onto the sofa table. Hits him over the head as he comes back up and everything goes dark.


The parole officer is holding Lindsey up against the wall, pressing the muzzle of his revolver against his throat.

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

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

Guy cocks his revolver: Good bye.

Something comes flying into the room, shattering the window. The guy spins around and shoots at Angel standing just outside of it and Angel drops out of sight.

Guy grabs Lindsey from behind around the throat and drags him over towards the window, holding the gun against his head.

Guy: Friend of yours?

Lindsey: No, he's not.

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

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

Lindsey: What are you doing here?!

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

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

Guy: Hey, watch it with that!

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

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

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

Guy: I-I can see you guys got issues, so I'll just...

Stops as Angel tightens the rope on the guy's throat.

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

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

Lindsey: Who?

Angel: The guy who's hand you're wearing. You might want to listen up.

Lindsey pointing with the gun: You don't tell me what to do.

Angel to the guy: He's so immature.

Lindsey yelling and gesturing with the gun: Shut up!!

Angel to guy: We're waiting.

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

Angel: Kill you? - Why would I kill you (morphs into vamp-face) when I could live off you for a month?

The guy looks back at Angel and yells as he sees his changed face. Angel pats the guy's face as Lindsey makes a grimace.

Angel: Hmm, can't you just taste that butter fat?

Grins at Lindsey.

Lindsey: You are really gross, you know that?

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

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

Guy: Just once.

Lindsey: You took him to Fairfield Clinic?

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

Angel: Where?

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

Cordy is sitting at her desk with her head buried in her arms, sniffling, as Wes and Gunn peek in through a crack in the door. They carefully pull the door shut again and step away from it.

Gunn: Is it me or are these vision hangovers getting longer and longer? (Points to his head) It's like she can't rest in there until it's done.

Wesley: I know. She inherited these visions from Doyle, but he was half demon. I'm not sure the human body can carry... - Last year a demon unleashed a slew of these visions on her. She wound up in a hospital out of her mind.

Gunn: Oh. - Well, she's been a little cranky lately but it's not like she's...

We hear Cordy's voice through the door: Angel? - Where are you? I-I can't... Are you there?

Gunn and Wesley look at each other.

Gunn: ...crazy?

They look towards the door.

Cordy, phone in hand, jumps as they suddenly kick her door open.

Cordy, exhales, to phone: Nothing. I'm fine. - It's just Gunn and Wesley playing with the doors. (To Gunn and Wes) I'm *trying* to work here. (To phone) Okay. - We'll wait here. - I'm *fine*. Just - get it done.

Angel and Lindsey are driving down the street in his convertible.

Angel looks over at Lindsey.

Angel: A funny thing happened the other day. Guy picks up butcher knife, sticks it in his own eye. - yow! - I guess he went to the same clinic you did. - Your hand hasn't been doing anything - funny lately, has it? - I know, it's none of my business, but you don't seem all that happy lately.

Lindsey: You know, I know you're Mr. 'save a soul' now, but at least you used to throw down with your enemies. What do wanna do now? You wanna share?

Angel: I guess it's a lot to carry. I mean, losing Darla - and even me in a way, as a place to focus your rage. It's ironic. I mean, here you are. You're young, and healthy, good job, new hand. (Lindsey looks down at his right hand) - Seems like the more you get, the less you have. - Am I getting through here? (Lindsey doesn't answer) You just keep on moping. You're good at that.

Angel pulls the car to the side of the road. Both he and Lindsey get out. Angel opens the trunk and pulls the bound and gagged parole officer up far enough so that he can see the store with a sign saying 'Southern California Travel' across the road from where they parked.

Angel: Is that were you took him?

The guy nods his head and grunt affirmatively.

Angel puts him back down and closes the trunk over the guys muffled protests.

Angel, carrying an ax in his right hand, and Lindsey walk across the street to the store.

Angel: Do you know this place?

Lindsey: No.

Angel: Well, I'm thinking if it has anything to do with you guys security will be top drawer. Window sensors, motion detectors, cellular backup, guards, obviously.

Lindsey: Yeah, I don't have my laptop.

Angel: Huh?

Lindsey: My computer. You want me to hack into the system and break the codes we're definitely gonna need...

Angel: Wait, wait, wait.

Angel stops and Lindsey turns around to face him.

Angel: That seems like a big bother. What do you say we just fight, huh?

Angel lifts his ax and Lindsey braces himself for a fight, raising his fists.

Angel motions with his hand: You might wanna step aside?

Lindsey lowers his fists a bit and looks at the store windows behind him. Makes a face and steps aside.

Angel hauls back and throws his ax, shattering the window. Claps Lindsey on the back as a guard steps out onto the street.

Angel: Come on. Work off some of that aggression, huh?

Angel drops the first guy with a hard cross and enters the store, Lindsey right behind him. Angel hits another guard, knees him in the stomach, then tosses the guy aside while Lindsey dances past Angel to hit one of the other two guards coming towards them. Short moments later all the guards are down and Angel and Lindsey look around the travel agency's office.

Angel: The floor. It's hollow.

He pushes some furniture aside and lifts up a throw rug to reveal a trap door.

They walk down the stairs into a room lined with cells, with strategically placed labels on the glass doors, holding naked people - or what's left of them.

Lindsey: What is this?

Angel: You know what this is. Spare parts - for guys like you. (Motions to the right, where the cell occupants are still whole) You got your before (turns to look to the other side of the room) and your after.

A label on one of the cells identifies the body inside as 'unit: 42-89 - Blood: O+ Tissue: (???) - Start: 8/19/00 - Discard: 10/29/01 - Harvest: 5/5/00 left ear - 6/18/00 left leg - 3/10/01 right hand.

The male inside is wearing an oxygen mask, his right hand is missing.

Angel: More like during, I guess. - Your firm in action, Lindsey. A lot to be proud of, huh?

Angel looks up at a banner hanging on one of the walls.

Angel: The Pockla blessed this place.

Lindsey: Who are they?

Angel: Demon healers. They know how to regenerate flesh. Probably explains why some of these transplants aren't taking so well.

Lindsey: Yeah, I'm pretty sure one of them was there when they gave me my hand.

Angel: Your hand? (Indicates one of the cells) I think it belonged to that guy over there.

Lindsey turns to look at the guy with the missing right hand. The camera reverses so that we look out through the glass door.

Angel (muffled through the door): Or what's left of him anyway.

Lindsey (muffled): Oh god. I know him.

Lindsey steps closer to the cell and the camera reversed again to show us the guy in the cell looking out at Lindsey.

Lindsey: I didn't get the name before. - We worked in the mailroom together. - Brad?

Brad wheezing: Kill...

Lindsey throws a look over his shoulder at Angel.

Brad: Kill...

Lindsey: Kill who? Huh? Who do you want to kill?

Brad: Kill - me...


Brad: Please...

Lindsey turns to Angel: What am I supposed to do here?

Angel: I know what I'd do. This is your deal. Whatever it is, you better do it quick. They're gonna be coming in force. We got to help the ones that we can.

Angel pulls the banners off the wall and breaks the glass to the first of the 'before' cells, while Lindsey stares up into Brad's face, who is still trying to talk.

Angel is wrapping the guy he just freed in the banner and helps him out of his cell.

Lindsey: I'm sorry.

He reaches over and pulls the wires leading to Brad's cell. As Lindsey stands looking at Brad, one hand braced against each side of the cell door, we hear the machinery winding down then the cell goes dark.

Angel watches as Lindsey takes a deep breath then goes to smash the connections to the next cell and picks up a metal table and tosses it across the room.

Angel helps a woman out of another cell.

Angel to Lindsey: Help these people upstairs.

Angel opens the valves of a couple of oxygen tanks, letting the gas escape into the room.

Angel: Get them to the car.

Angel lights a piece of paper, drops it on the floor and runs up the stairs.

Angel comes running out the front of the store and makes it most of the way across the street before a huge fireball explodes outward, shattering the windows and spraying glass everywhere.

Hyperion, day.

Angel to Cordy: How is everything in your head?

Cordy: What?

Angel: Any vision aftermaths?

Cordy takes a deep breath: I-it's better.

Wesley: What?

Cordy: It's just - they're starting to take their toll. (Shrugs and gives them a smile) It's part of the job, right?

No one says anything.

Lilah is playing with her hair as she sits next to Lindsey at Nathan Reed's conference table, which is once again occupied with all the same lawyers we saw there at the beginning.

Nathan: These Reevaluations are always a bit of a mixed blessing. Sad as we lose one of our own. But also hopeful as we turn towards the future and - promote one of our own. - Lilah. You have made a lot of great contributions and I know you have tried your very, very best...

Lilah: No!

She scrabbles for her purse, but Lindsey puts his hands over hers.

Lindsey: Lilah. Please. (Lilah stops and looks at him) - They chose me. - I'm clearly the guy.

Nathan Reed: Yes, you are.

Lindsey to Lilah: You could've had it. - But you didn't have what it takes.

Lindsey raises his right hand up and Lilah jumps, letting out a little scream as he wriggles his fingers.

Lindsey almost laughing: An evil hand. - I mean, come on, who here does, huh? (Gets up and motions towards a guy across from him at the table) Leon doesn't. - Charlie doesn't. (Ruffles the hair of the guy sitting on Lilah's other side, and looks at Nathan) You do know you gave me an evil hand, right? (Nathan doesn't move) I've been writing 'Kill, kill, kill' on everything. It's crazy. It's crazy. Anything could happen!

Nathan to the guard: Allen.

Lindsey: Allen, how are you?

Allen reaches for his gun, but Lindsey slugs him, sending his ear-piece dangling down his neck, and grabs the gun Allan is reaching for and presses it into the guards chest.

Allen raises his hands.

Lindsey: Uh-oh.

Shoots the guard in the foot while looking at Nathan.

Lindsey: Uh, that's gonna hurt in the morning!

Allen is hopping around on one foot and Lindsey pushes him to the floor before waving the gun at the people sitting around the table.

Lindsey: Stop, evil hand, stop it.

Fires of a few shots in Nathan's direction shattering some pottery behind him and making Nathan flinch a bit.

Lindsey grinning: I just can't control my evil hand. (Walks up to Nathan's end of the table) Nathan, I'm so proud that you chose me. (Ruffles Charlie's hair as he walks past him) Charlie! If I would have been in your shoes - I would have chosen Lilah. (Lilah turns to stare at Lindsey) Let me tell you why. Do you have any idea of the hours this chick has logged in? Huh? The files she has on you guys? - Deep stuff. Ronnie, your stock manipulations, Nathan's little offshore accounts... Can you imagine if something were to happen to this girl and those files got back to the senior partners? - They'd eat you alive! (Lilah looks at him with a frown) She's been working overtime, boys. She's everything you ever dreamed off. Lilah is your guy. Me - (leans down on the table next to Nathan, who looks straight ahead) I'm unreliable. I've got these evil hand issues - and I'm bored with this crap. - And besides, I'm leaving, so - if you wanna chase me, be my guest, and remember (holds up his hand) evil. (Knocks on the table with his right hand.) Charlie.

Lindsey quietly to Lilah as he passes her: Good luck.

Lilah jumps, putting a hand over her mouth then turns to stare at Lindsey as he walks towards the door. He gives her a big grin, and waves his right hand in the air.

Lindsey: Evil.

Lilah stands and stares as the door closes behind Lindsey.

Nathan: Well. Let's amend the minutes. - Lilah Morgan was promoted. - And, uh, someone call an ambulance.

Night. Lindsey walks up to his old truck and puts a duffel and his guitar case into the bed.

Lindsey: If you're here to kill me, grab ya a ticket and get in line.

Angel leaning on the gate of the truck: Oh, I really like this truck. '56, right? First year they had that wrap-around windshield. You know, back in the fifties we all thought life was gonna be like in the Jetsons by now. Air cars, robots. - I'd love to have an air car. Wouldn't that be cool?

Lindsey with a smile: So, you're here to talk me to death.

Angel: Nah, I just came here to say, things don't always work out like you think. - I bet Wolfram and Hart aren't too happy losing one of their best and their brightest.

Lindsey: Yeah, well, let 'em come try to stop me. It'll be fun.

Angel: Well, I don't know if that's a healthy attitude. - So, where're you going, Lindsey? (Looks at the duffel and guitar case) Back to your roots?

Lindsey: Something like that.

Angel nods his head slowly.

Lindsey: I hope you're not waiting for me to tell you that I learned some kind of a lesson. That I had a big moral crisis, but now I see the light.

Angel laughs: If you told me that, then I'd have to kill you. - I'm just here to say 'bon voyage' - don't come back.

Lindsey: To L.A.? - Nah. - You can have this place.

Opens the door to his truck.

Angel: Good. I'm glad I didn't have to do something immature here.

Lindsey nods with a slight smile, sobers after a beat.

Lindsey: The key to Wolfram and Hart: don't let them make you play their game. - You gotta make them play yours.

Angel quietly: Thanks. I'll keep that in mind.

Lindsey nods gets ready to get in his truck.

Angel: Don't drive too fast now. Lots of cops out there.

Lindsey gets in and starts the engine. As he pulls away from the curb we see that there is a big sign stuck to the gate of his truck saying 'cops suck.'

Angel stands there with a smile on his face as he watches him drive off.


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