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TIME BOMB

GUNN: Listen, please... What did I do?
No. No. Wait!
Find it. Find... Gunn. Charles Gunn.
You"re... Fred. You look... terrible.
Unh! Illyria.
ILLYRIA: Move.
GUNN: Can"t. Can"t leave this dimension unless someone else puts on the necklace... takes my place.

WESLEY: I didn"t send her. We were discussing Gunn. I explained his situation, our inability to get him out. She nodded, created a portal, and disappeared.
ANGEL: So she"s just, what, helping you out? She"s your little helper.
WESLEY: I would hardly call her-
ANGEL: Well, she sure was helpful beatin" me up. Wes, do you have any idea why she"s doing all this for you?

WESLEY: Does it matter? She may be able to get him out.
ANGEL: Or she might get him killed. It doesn"t track, Wes. Why would she take on any risk for us?
WESLEY: I doubt this poses a risk to her. She has the power of a god.
ANGEL: She has the ego of a god.
WESLEY: She was ruler of the world, after all. This sort of thing goes to one"s head.

ANGEL: Apparently.
WESLEY: I am making progress. There is distance, of course. She would never accept any of us as peers. But... I afford her some amusement at the very least. It may be why she"s still here.

ANGEL: She"s still here because this place reeks of influence. She had everything, Wes. Everything. You think she"s not lookin" to get that back?
WESLEY: I wouldn"t presume to know what she wants. But I understand the resource, the power she represents. If we could just find some way to integrate her, to convince her to-
ANGEL: To do what? Join the team?
Gunn.
WESLEY: Illyria.
ILLYRIA: This thing...
ANGEL: Let him go.
ILLYRIA: It"s important to you.
WESLEY: Illyria, stop.
ILLYRIA: It holds value-worth beyond price.

ANGEL: I said, let him-
WESLEY: Yes, great worth. A great debt. You"re talking of the debt, aren"t you... of what we owe you?
ILLYRIA: Of what you owe me.
ANGEL: Go team.

Opening credits.

WESLEY: All pre-Christian works dealing with the demon age. Same for primordium, index any mention of the old ones.

GUNN: Hey.
WESLEY: Gunn.
First day back?
GUNN: Yeah.
WESLEY: I stabbed you. I should apologize for that. But I"m honestly not sure how.
I think it"ll just be awkward.

GUNN: Good call.
WESLEY: OK.
GUNN: I ain"t lookin" for a sorry. Don"t know if I"d accept it. Besides, I just got my heart cut out of my chest every day for 2 weeks straight. Compared to what-a little jab in the gut? Kinda over it.

WESLEY: So, what are you looking for?
GUNN: I don"t know. A compass, maybe. The thing that killed my friend just saved my life. No one knows why.
This place just went Poseidon on my ass. I don"t know which way is up.

WESLEY: Everything is...
a bit odd.
I suppose...
we have to adjust.
I imagine that"s what all this is-adjustment.

GUNN: Adjustment?
WESLEY: To...things. To...myself. To this place. To...Illyria.
GUNN: She definitely takes adjusting to.
WESLEY: You can"t... look at her without seeing...
her body"s previous owner.
But then, what comes out of her mouth, pure unadulterated vertigo. We look so tiny to her.

GUNN: But you got her on a leash or something, right?
WESLEY: No. No.
She"s monumentally self-possessed.
She still thinks she"s the god-king of the universe.
GUNN: So she"s like a TV star.
WESLEY: No, nothing that bad. Bit more violent, though.
SPIKE: Ooh! All right, grandma. Give ya that. Good one.
ILLYRIA: This shell... you had affection for it, for Fred.
SPIKE: Tons. Loved the bird.
ILLYRIA: Yet you strike at her form without sentiment.
SPIKE: You ain"t her. I can see it. Lord knows I can smell it. And I got no problem hitting it.

ILLYRIA: You"re adapting.
SPIKE: We do that.
ILLYRIA: Adaptation is compromise.

SPIKE: It"s called learning. But then I guess you know everything there is to know.

ILLYRIA: When the world met me, it shuddered, groaned. It knelt at my feet.

SPIKE: "Dear Penthouse, I don"t normally write letters like this, but-"
Oh, ho ho!
ILLYRIA: Illyria was all they needed to know.

SPIKE: Then came the Internet.
ILLYRIA: You have nothing. Your kind has pulled this domain apart. Each of you has snatched a tiny piece of it. Even those with the mightiest hoards are paupers.

SPIKE: The one who dies with the most toys wins, eh?
ILLYRIA: To never die... and to conquer all, that is winning.
SPIKE: Now that"s cheating.
ANGEL: Spike, talk to you for a minute.

ILLYRIA: You may go.
SPIKE: Huh!
Yeah, great.
Thanks so much.
That time-stop thing is a royal bitch, but I"m starting to suss out her million-year-old moves. Cheeky mix. Little tae kwon do, little Brazilian Ninjitsu, ancestrally speaking.

ANGEL: You have to stop these sessions.

SPIKE: Now hang on. Just now getting into it. Testing her has sharpened technique I didn"t even know was rusty.

ANGEL: We"re not testing her, Spike. She"s testing us.
SPIKE: Got her winded at least, didn"t I?
That"s right, little Shiva. Reckon you"ll think twice next time.
LORNE: Hey-hey. Shoulder to the wheel, already, huh?
GUNN: Gotta start sometime. That"s what I keep telling myself, anyway.

LORNE: So are you good? I mean you look good, considering. I just thought I"d drop in and see if you"re good... which you are. Ahem...good.

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

GUNN: Guess Illyria"s still the headline around here.
LORNE: Front-page news. And a walking obituary. Strange times, huh?

GUNN: Strange times.
Have you talked to Wes?
LORNE: Well, we"ve exchanged words. I wouldn"t exactly call it talking. He"s still reeling since Our Lady of the Blue Bummer arrived.


GUNN: Yeah, I was just in his office, and-

LORNE: Oh, God, don"t go in there! That"s where he keeps his full-strength crazy.

GUNN: Yeah. Caught a whiff of that.
LORNE: It"s like he"s 2 different people. One is almost catatonic, the guy you see doing the impatient shuffle around the hallways, and the other is just cooped up in there all day, jittering like a bug on a hotplate, obsessing over every single tidbit he can find on Illyria.


GUNN: What"s Angel say about it?
LORNE: Ah, he"s not very talky these days, either.
ANGEL: Lorne? This is Angel. Can you hear me?
LORNE: Uh, 10-4, good buddy.
ANGEL: Lorne, we"re gonna meet in my office. Now.
LORNE: Uh, copy that.
SPIKE: OK, the upshot is you don"t like babe the blue ox in your house, and you want to get rid of her.

ANGEL: Yeah.
SPIKE: So... are we talking pasture... or slaughterhouse?
ANGEL: She didn"t have a problem killing Fred, did she?
WESLEY: Illyria infected Fred, with no more malice than a viral phage.

ANGEL: Hey, look, Wes, I know you"re bonding with her, but-
WESLEY: But she"s unpredictable, dangerous, too powerful a being, too close to being an enemy. Yes, Angel. It"s self-evident.

ANGEL: Which means we have to find some kind of weakness, some point of vulnerability-
WESLEY: You want me to find a way to kill her.
ANGEL: You got a problem with that?
WESLEY: No.
ANGEL: Good.
Because we got more than enough problems to worry about.
GUNN: Yeah, for example, what about the Apocalypse? Still trying to get my head around that one. Lindsey said we"re in the middle of it?

WESLEY: Oh, yes. The thousand-year war of good versus evil is well under way.
ANGEL: Evil just hasn"t told anyone about it yet, which is probably why they"re winning.

SPIKE: Oh, and by the way, we"re apparently on the wrong side. Or the right side, if you like winning.
GUNN: Sounds like you guys are buying it.

ANGEL: Next time you go out there, take a good look around. "Cause it"s true, Gunn.

GUNN: Works for me. So what"s that mean for us?
ANGEL: Tell us how we fight an invisible war. I don"t even know who we"re fighting.
All the evil we"ve stopped so far, and we"re still the partners" number-one earner.

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


HAMILTON: Illyria destroyed 11 torture units before she found your man. 2 troop carriers, an ice cream truck, and 8 beautifully maintained lawns. Not to mention dozens of employees rendered useless to the company.



ANGEL: Bill me.
HAMILTON: Oh, we will. The damages are coming directly out of this division"s profits. Congratulations. In one swift stroke, you"ve gone from leader of the pack to staggering at the rear.
ANGEL: And...
HAMILTON: Angel... you"re a motivated go-getter at the top of the corporate ladder. Why don"t you figure out what comes after "and..."?


ANGEL: We"re workin" on that.
HAMILTON: Yes, I"m sure you are. In the meantime, the partners have a small task they"d like you to oversee. I"m sending Gunn the file.
It"s good to see you again, by the way.
It"s a simple matter, but with some very big players.
ANGEL: If this is our chance to get into a better grace with the head office, I have to say it"s not my priority.
HAMILTON: Oh, no, don"t think about us, Angel. Think about profits. It"s profits that let you keep this plucky little boatload of good above water.
It"s a business, boys, not a bat cave.

LORNE: Well, I"ll tell you what-still like him better than Eve.
ILLYRIA: This day. What name is it given in your cycle of days?
WESLEY: I give it... Monday.
ILLYRIA: And this conversation. We"ve had it before.
WESLEY: Well, yes, we"ve... discussed our system of temporal measurement and our technology, weights and measures, local customs, world history...
ILLYRIA: You are my guide.
WESLEY: Apparently.
ILLYRIA: You"re more than that.
WESLEY: Really?
ILLYRIA: You are my betrayer. When you shattered the Window of Orlon, you meant to change the past, to rewrite your history and the history of this body.
WESLEY: And instead I brought back more painful memories.
ILLYRIA: It was a failure.
WESLEY: I"ve come to understand how irreversible the works of time are.
ILLYRIA: But you intended to alter them.

WESLEY: I wanted to bring back Fred.
ILLYRIA: And destroy me!
WESLEY: As an unavoidable consequence.
Does it sting you... my betrayal?
ILLYRIA: Betrayal was a neutral word in my day, as unjudged a word as water or breeze. No.
Or perhaps... I am only bothered because I am bothered.
WESLEY: That sounds very close to human.

ILLYRIA: Motes of dust. Mayflies who die so soon after they"re born they might as well not live at all.
WESLEY: Now, now. Manners.
GUNN: Just got the file from Hamilton. Skimming it now. Looks like some sort of ceremonial demon pact. You have to sign as witness for the firm.

ANGEL: You"ve met Hamilton.
GUNN: Sorry?
ANGEL: The new liaison. You met him before today?
GUNN: Yeah. Came down to my basement for a visit while I was getting carved. Offered to get me out.
ANGEL: And what"d you say?
GUNN: Do you really have to ask me that?

ANGEL: I really do.
GUNN: I turned him down. Not into making deals. Not anymore.
ANGEL: Well, that"s gonna make it tough to be a lawyer.
GUNN: It was tough already. Making business go smoothly for a bunch of hideous, scaly, evil clients.

WOMAN: Excuse me... I"m here about the demon pact.
They found me. They said that they had these seer people who told them my baby was some kind of holy one. They said it was a prophecy.


GUNN: How much do you know about the Fell Brethren?
WOMAN: Well, they"re really religious. I mean, their religion, not the God one. But they"ve been really supportive. They"re always bringing me special shakes and vitamins.

ANGEL: You realize they"re demons.
WOMAN: Uh-huh. They"re very open about it.

GUNN: Well, any demonic pact should be entered into with caution. They can be riddled with obscure clauses and doubletalk. As our client, we have to advise you-

DEMON: She"s not your client. We are.

ILLYRIA: Odd.
It doesn"t exist until it cracks apart.
WESLEY: What"s that?
ILLYRIA: Time.
WESLEY: You don"t look altogether well.
ILLYRIA: Your opinion of me weighs less than sunlight.
WESLEY: Illyria!
ANGEL: Wes, do it now.
SPIKE: Got her winded at least, didn"t I?
That"s right, little Shiva. Reckon you"ll think twice next time.
Good knee to the ribs does tend to catch up on you, doesn"t it?
WESLEY: Illyria?
ILLYRIA: You tried to murder me.
Again!
WESLEY: What? I haven"t...
I don"t want you dead, believe me.
ILLYRIA: I was there. I saw it.
LORNE: Bluebird is in flight.
HARMONY: OK. Angel just needs another few minutes. Can I go ahead and grab you anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Got blood.

DEMON: What"s he doing in there with the Holy Vessel?
HARMONY: And a variety of organic colas.

DEMON: The Brethren have a delicate relationship with the Vessel. If she"s presenting any problems, we should be the ones to-

HARMONY: Believe me, Angel will take care of everything. That"s what he does. Yep. I"m sure he"s in there, you know, getting into her head, sowing the seeds of fear. Don"t you worry. He will snap her like a pregnant twig.

DEMON: We"ll try an organic cola.
Thank you.
ANGEL: You"re sure you want to do this?

GUNN: Yeah, because it"s not too late, Amanda. This contract has some wiggle room somewhere in there. They always do.
WOMAN / AMANDA: But aren"t you the guys that are supposed to tell me to do it?

ANGEL: Oh, we are. And, well, we"re not. We, uh-
LORNE: Angel Ears, this is Secret Demon. Come in.
AMANDA: Listen, I"ve had this talk before, believe me. I know it sounds bad giving up your unborn baby to a supernatural cult, but...


ANGEL: Sorry.
Go on.
AMANDA: See... their entire nation believes my child is their next, you know, like the Dalai Lama. They"re gonna worship him. He"ll be cared for better than we could ever. And he"ll be someone, somebody important. We"d never be able to give him that.


GUNN: Amanda, the Fell Brethren leader makes Jim Jones look like a Sunday school teacher.
AMANDA: Who"s Jim Jones?
ANGEL: It doesn"t matter.
AMANDA: Mr. Gunn, we can"t afford this baby. My husband, he was hurt at work. Brain-damaged, doctors say. Incurable.
We"re scraping by on food stamps and disability. But the Brethren... they say they can make him whole again. Make him...
remember who I am. I mean, how does a person turn all that down?


ANGEL: Excuse us.
GUNN: I"m not feelin" so good.
ANGEL: First day back from a vacation in hell, you know, I"m not surprised.
GUNN: Do you know what the worst part of that place was? Wasn"t the basement. At least there, you knew where you stood. Demon was gonna cut your heart out and show it to you. Nah. It was the fake life they gave you upstairs. The wife, kids, all the icing on the family cake. But somewhere underneath it, there was the nagging certainty that it was all lies, that all the smiles and the birthday candles and the homework were just there to hide the horror.
Is that all we"re doing here-just hiding the horror?


ANGEL: No.
GUNN: "Cause I don"t think I can stomach it anymore, not after all that"s happened.

ANGEL: You have to. Listen to me, Gunn. I need you to get through this, to get through all of it so we can figure out the big picture and plot our next move.

GUNN: Angel... she is our next move.
HARMONY: Um...the Brethren have finished their colas, Angel, and the sugar high isn"t making them any less-
ANGEL: Send them in, Harmony.
HAMILTON: Curing cancer, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?
WESLEY: Wouldn"t be cost-effective. I"m sure we make a lot from cancer.

HAMILTON: Heh, yes. The patent holder is a client. So...
How"s the science game? Oh, I realize you"re just filling in, but, uh...
WESLEY: Do you have a specific need, Mr. Hamilton?
HAMILTON: I"m just wondering if anything turned up on Illyria. We have our concerns about her, too, you know.
WESLEY: Common ground. Mystifying.
HAMILTON: She"s a walking nightmare, isn"t she?
WESLEY: Well put.
HAMILTON: And yet you seem to be the closest thing she has to a friend.

WESLEY: If you knew her, you"d realize the absurdity of that statement.

HAMILTON: Well, the partners know her, Wesley. Yes. They go way back. Heh. They don"t want her here. They don"t want her anywhere...at all. But they consider this to be your problem, so...
have a nice fight.
Oh, you might wanna try taking a look at the low-emanation scanner readouts. Just a thought.
LORNE: I repeat, bluebird got wise. Secret Demon"s cover is blown. Over. Hel-hello?! Is this on?
Hey, Leery, now, when did you catch on to me? In the elevator? That was a tough one.
ILLYRIA: The vampire plays children"s games.
LORNE: Oh, tag, you"re it, honey.
DEMON: Amanda.
Ya look wonderful, huh? Huh?! So full of life. So how"s our little oven-bun? Still kicking up a storm, I hope.

Another DEMON: Third trimester.
DEMON: Any more pressure, shortness of breath? Well, that"s normal. Are you taking the black cohosh we sent?
AMANDA: Mm-hmm.
DEMON: Lovely. Bipmep cut some articles out of this month"s "Fit Pregnancy". We"ll send those along.

ANGEL: If we can we get underway.

DEMON: Ah! Good, good.
And...there...and done.
There you are, Amanda.
GUNN: Wait a minute. Gordabach?
DEMON: Yes. Gordabach.
Just sign right there, mom.
GUNN: No, hang on. I just wanna get this clause straight. "The child will be pampered, worshipped, and fed a holy diet of berries, panda meat, and urine."

DEMON: Well, it"s consecrated urine.
GUNN: "And on the eve of his 13th year, he will be prepared for the rites of Gordabach."
AMANDA: That"s what, like a bar mitzvah?






DEMON: Well, there"ll be gifts.
GUNN: Amanda... it"s a ritual sacri-

DEMON: Whose lawyer are you?!
ILLYRIA: You will speak to me.
ANGEL: In the middle of something.

ILLYRIA: Then I will end it.
ANGEL: Yeah, OK.
DEMON: Who"s this?
ANGEL: Come with me.
LORNE: Well, do ya copy ever?! Over!
Hey, hey, is your thingy on?
Oh, I"ll just wait here then.

ANGEL: You don"t interrupt our work! Understand me?
ILLYRIA: What is it, poison? Magicks? It impresses me, the power of it. Whatever you"ve done, it can"t save you. To do anything but bow to my will is absurd, yet you conspire-

ANGEL: We haven"t done anything to you.
ILLYRIA: Jealous. Plankton envying the ocean that holds them.
ANGEL: Yeah, that"s great. Listen, I got things-
ILLYRIA: Ridiculous apes. My death won"t prevent your dying. What have you done to me?!
ANGEL: Get your damn hands off me.
ILLYRIA: You do not know. Not yet.
It"s too early.
LORNE: Psst. Ya gotta keep your thingy on for this to work, OK?
Oh, that"s mature!
HARMONY: Boss, it"s getting a little shouty in your office.
ANGEL: Let Gunn take care of it.
Illyria"s blown all of her gaskets, man. She"s outta her mind.
SPIKE: How can you tell? Yesterday she spent 2 hours mind-melding with a potted fern.

ANGEL: She thinks I"m trying to kill her.

WESLEY: Aren"t you?
ANGEL: Tell me you have something, Wes. Just anything.
WESLEY: She is unstable.
Overloading, to be more accurate. The fusion between her demon essence and her host"s body seems to be deteriorating. It"s as if the human part of her can no longer contain the demonic power within.

SPIKE: Hmm. We"re thinking that she cracked her engine block and now she"s leakin" petrol all over the building.
WESLEY: She"s going to self-destruct, violently, and soon.
ANGEL: And you were gonna tell me this when?
WESLEY: I wasn"t. Spike and I were dealing with it.
SPIKE: We"re motivated go-getters.

WESLEY: The good news is the crack in her engine block may give us a chance to get to her. This is a Mutari generator. It creates a pinhole to an infinite extra-dimensional space, a negatively charged pocket universe, that should draw her radiant essence, her power, into itself, by process of a-


ANGEL: Wes. Will it kill her?
WESLEY: Yes.
Shall we go?
ANGEL: We have to find out where she-
SPIKE: Oh, here.
Training room, looks like. And gushin" petrol like a geyser.
So what sort of damage are we lookin" at if Illyria Chernobyls on us?
WESLEY: Conservative guess, several city blocks.
ANGEL: And what about unconservative?
WESLEY: Rand and McNally will have to redraw their maps.
ANGEL: Is she in there?
LORNE: Do you even know how to use this thing?
That"s funny. I didn"t even see her leave.

SPIKE: Well, that"s the problem. You don"t always see her when she"s-
Gaah!
WESLEY: Illyria!
ANGEL: Wes, do it now.
We haven"t done anything to you.
ILLYRIA: Jealous. Plankton envying the ocean that holds them.
ANGEL: Yeah, that"s great. Listen, I got things-
ILLYRIA: Ridiculous apes. My death won"t prevent your dying. What have you done to me?!
ANGEL: Get your damn hands off me.
WESLEY: Are you all right?
ANGEL: No, I"m not all right.
What the hell did you do to me?
WESLEY: Angel.
ILLYRIA: You weren"t here before.
WESLEY: Who-where did-what just happened?
ILLYRIA: An aberration in the time line. It wasn"t like this-
Aaaaah!
ANGEL: Damn it! What the hell was this?

ILLYRIA: You followed me.
ANGEL: Gunn?
ILLYRIA: You"ve been swept up in my wake.
ANGEL: This is the holding dimension.
ILLYRIA: How did you worms accomplish this?

ANGEL: We didn"t. We-accomplish what?
ILLYRIA: You ripped me out of linear progression, tore my time line into shreds, and stitched it back together out of sequence.

ANGEL: Are you kidding?!
ILLYRIA: You caged me in this fractured time frame, in moments that repeat themselves over and over without deviation.
But I don"t say these words. I rip the necklace off. I lift him from the table. We speak. And the demon attacks again.
Is it of your sciences? How do you unweave time in this way?

ANGEL: This isn"t us. We don"t have the power to do-
ILLYRIA: Do you know what you were when I was young? You were the muck at our feet. We called you "the ooze that eats itself". You were pretty at night. You sparkled, and you stank. You still stink of it!

ANGEL: Will you just shut up for once?!
ILLYRIA: What?
ANGEL: My God, the speechifying. Has it ever occurred to you that now might not be the best time for when-we-were-muck stories?

ILLYRIA: You dare to speak to me in this-

ANGEL: Yes, I dare. And, yes, we are looking for a way of controlling you any way that we can. I can"t have an "x" factor like you bouncing around unchecked.

ILLYRIA: "Bouncing around"?!
ANGEL: Yes, and I know you would do the same thing. I know that for a fact. But this is my kingdom, lady, not yours!
ILLYRIA: Your kingdom! I am Illyria, god-king of the primordium, shaper of things!

ANGEL: Yeah, well, that was then-
This is... Now.
ILLYRIA: Yes. Nothing"s what it used to be, is it?
ANGEL: No...
ILLYRIA: These are the fruits of your attempt to murder me. Your kingdom turned to ash and stale wind.
I slew the white-haired one first.
ANGEL: This can"t be.
ILLYRIA: And then Wesley, as he raised his weapon... and your demon clown as he wilted in terror.
ANGEL: And I"m next.
ILLYRIA: No, vampire.
You were last.
ANGEL: Why?
ILLYRIA: You know nothing of this. You"re from an earlier point in the time line. You are a paradox. You"re impossible.

ANGEL: We attacked you.
ILLYRIA: I didn"t give you the chance. That you learn when you become a king.
You learn to destroy everything that"s not utterly yours.
All that matters is victory.
That"s how your reign persists.
You"re a slave to an insane construct.
You are moral.
A true ruler is as moral as a hurricane, empty but for the force of his gale.
But you... trapped in the web of the Wolf, the Ram, the Hart. So much power here, and you quibble at its price.
If you want to win a war, you must serve no master but your ambition.

Oh, you have not lied. My undoing is beyond you, your people. Something is broken inside me.
My power is too great! I know this now, as I know it every time I come to this moment.

ANGEL: Illyria, if I"m here, if I am paradox, then this can all change, can"t it? You said things had been altered, what you said, what you did. You can change this outcome!

ILLYRIA: Change is constant. Yet things remain the same.
SPIKE: So what sort of damage are we lookin" at if Illyria Chernobyls on us?
WESLEY: Conservative guess, several city blocks.
ANGEL: Wes, you"re alive. Illyria, she"s self-destructing. She"s a time bomb.

SPIKE: Read today"s paper, did ya?
ANGEL: What?
SPIKE: We"ve been yapping about bloody nothing but that for the last 10 minutes.
ANGEL: No, no, no. I just left a meeting with Illyria. She grabbed me, and we phased through time.
I don"t think she actually meant to do it. She"s overloading. She"s gonna explode.

WESLEY: Yes, we know. Angel, we"ve been over all this.
LORNE: Do you even know how to use this thing?
ANGEL: She"s come unstuck in time, Wes. She knows what happens. She"s seen it. She knows we want to kill her.
WESLEY: Yeah, she said that to me as well.
ANGEL: Oh, guys... this isn"t good.
LORNE: Well, that"s funny. I didn"t even see her leave.
SPIKE: Well, that"s the problem.
ANGEL: "Slew the white-haired one first."

SPIKE: Don"t always see her when she"s-

ANGEL: Wait-wait...
Illyria, wait. Please. Wes, put that thing down. Spike, nobody move.

ILLYRIA: This, too... all changing.
ANGEL: I know what happens. I know you kill us all.
SPIKE: Oh, a bit pessimistic, aren"t you?
ANGEL: And then you shudder, and you convulse with pain, and then the power inside you explodes.
ILLYRIA: You are the Angel from the past. You were swept up in my wake.
ANGEL: You"re not a king anymore. Your domain is gone, swallowed by time.

ILLYRIA: And we"ve had this conversation.
ANGEL: You explode. I was there. It was powerful enough to blow me back through time. I have no idea what it does to the building.
WESLEY: More like the continental shelf, actually.
ANGEL: I have to stop that. Do you understand? I cannot have your death blow away my-
ILLYRIA: Your kingdom?!
ANGEL: Yeah, sure, whatever.
ILLYRIA: You ask me to allow you to murder me.
SPIKE: It"s not murder if you say yes.

WESLEY: No one is murdering you. This device won"t kill you.
ANGEL: What? You said-
WESLEY: I lied. Illyria, this device will draw the energy away from you safely. It will allow you to live.
ILLYRIA: Your intent is not murder.
WESLEY: It never was.
LORNE: Well, no harm, no foul.

ILLYRIA: But you tried to destroy me to bring back Fred.
WESLEY: That didn"t work. It was a failure. But now I know you"re all that"s left.

ILLYRIA: You want to take my power... to let me live. But I am my power. And I would rather be a titanic crater than to be like unto you.
I kill you. That"s how this ends.


SPIKE: What?! Gettin" ahead of ourselves a bit.
ANGEL: Illyria, the future can change here. You can choose a different path.

ILLYRIA: And be nothing.
ANGEL: And be what you are.
Fighting to hold on to what you were... it"s destroying you.
ILLYRIA: You would do this to me.
WESLEY: I"d try anyway. Every time.

ILLYRIA: I possess so much grace, more grace than this bag of sticks could express. I was the immaculate embodiment of rule.
I blame this on the weakness of your species.


WESLEY: Fair enough.
Illyria...
ILLYRIA: Touch me and die, vermin.
SPIKE: Not a very dramatic difference, really.

WESLEY: Everything is different.
ANGEL: So what"s the prognosis?
WESLEY: She won"t be stopping time... or walking through dimensions. And I suspect her physical strength has decreased somewhat.

ANGEL: That"s what I wanted to hear.
You"re gonna stay with her, aren"t you?
WESLEY: Yes.
ANGEL: Wes... I don"t like where this is going. I don"t like where this has been.
WESLEY: I"m not in love with this thing, Angel. But... for some reason, I need it right now.

ANGEL: Yeah. That"s just weird.
WESLEY: I know.
She could still prove to be problematic for us.
Much of what she was is still intact.
I doubt she"ll ever stop trying to conquer... everything.

ANGEL: "Serve no master but your ambition."

WESLEY: What"s that?
ANGEL: I think you may have been right before... about Illyria being a resource. She just might make the team yet.

DEMON: We sought this child for decades. We"re not letting go of it now!

GUNN: Only the mother"s consent will sanctify this transaction.
DEMON: That"s exactly what we have.
GUNN: Oh yeah? Show it to me.
DEMON: It"s an agreement in principle. The child is ours.
GUNN: I can tear that apart in a courtroom. Just watch me.
DEMON: But we"re paying you!
GUNN: We"re not taking your money!
HAMILTON: I understand, Your Holiness. Fully.
DEMON: If this gets fouled here by that lunatic, our hordes will fall on this place. There won"t be so much as an eyetooth left of any of them!
HAMILTON: Yes, well, that would be more... Angel"s business than mine.
DEMON: She won"t make it through another day.
GUNN: You think we can"t protect her?!

DEMON: The Fell are everywhere. We are a force of nature.
ANGEL: Gunn. The baby belongs to the Fell.

GUNN: What? She hasn"t signed anything. There"s nothing on paper.
ANGEL: Gentlemen.
GUNN: Angel. What are you doing?
ANGEL: What we"re supposed to. Serve our clients.

The end

 
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