Mike's Synopsis

Previously on Joe Millionaire: Cordy went to heaven, came back, slept with Connor, got the crabs (oh, come on!), the Beast showed up, and he wasn't nearly as fuzzy, cute and blue as the comic books made him look, he beat the crap out of everybody and blotted out the sun, Cordy remembers Angel meeting the Beast but Angel doesn't, Wes has the mother of all bad ideas, Wo Pang comes, the soul goes.

It's still night in LA, and Connor's a-fightin' vampires. There's kicking, grunting, and even a little bit of Moe-style eye-poking. Between feints, he asks the lead vamp if they're from out of town. "Tucson," the vamp assents, as his buddies slam Connor up against an abandoned newsstand. He kicks out, and produces a concealed stake from his wrist, Spidey-style. Within moments, he makes short work of them. "Welcome to L.A.," he grins to himself, but the grin fades as many more vampires appear and start his way.

Back at the office, Cordy is very carefully holding the jar that holds Angel's soul. Fred doesn't like seeing it like that, and Wes assures her it's only temporary as he opens the combination-lock wall safe where the jar will be housed. Cordy hands the jar to Wes, both taking extreme care. I would have thought Tupperware instead of glass, but hey. Wesley locks the safe, turns around, and announces, "Angel is gone." They all feel it. Nobody's loving this plan. Talk turns to Angelus; Cordy's told them enough to know what they're dealing with. Wesley cautions everyone that "there's only one thing Angelus will be focused on: getting free," and what he will do with his newfound freedom is kill everyone in the room. Cordy outlines Angelus' MO; he kills whatever the closest links to his humanity are. Wes plans to go downstairs and talk to him, and the others will watch on the security monitors. But he cautions that Angelus will try to play on the group's weaknesses, and that if he succeeds, "We're all dead." Drifting into thought, he realizes that he's not prepared for what Angelus is going to do; he's got all of Angel's knowledge, and is smarter and more focused than any of them. Hell of a pep talk, dude.

The object of all this discussion is lying on the floor of his cell, looking distractedly up at the ceiling and singing "The Teddy Bears Picnic." He really is evil.

Wes goes down, crossbow in hand. He calls Angelus' name. Angelus doesn't waste time with the taunting; he wonders why Wes isn't glad to see him when this whole scene was his idea. Wes points out that Angel agreed to go along, which Angelus dismisses. He asks, in typical British polite-captor fashion, if the cell is comfortable. "Wouldn't hate a chair," Angelus says distractedly. He says most things distractedly. Wes apologizes for the accomodations like he really means it, and refers to Angelus' last escapade in Sunnydale. Angelus snarks about Buffy. Wes states that he's imagined meeting Angelus many times, to which the latter responds with mock-embarrassment. Wes goes on to make clear that this is something he's anticipated greatly, a brush with history and fame in a weird way. Angelus mocks that "buttering me up" is not the interrogation technique he expected, and gives the impression of being willing to cooperate. "Open book. Anything you want to know. How sweet that virgin gypsy tasted, the special smell of a newborn's neck, my first nun--now that's a great story." But he knows what Wes is really interested in, and questions about the Beast get stalling and misdirection, as Angelus relates some of what Angel saw in the dream Wo Pang gave him to remove his soul. He makes it clear that Angel wanted the whole gang together, and Wes surmises that Angelus is about to tell him what he wants. Angelus insinuates that Wesley is more motivated by his own desire for hero status than genuinely helping others. Wesley scoffs, but Angelus points out that what he truly wants is "to impress the girl." Wes blanches, but covers well; he tries to stay on track, but Angelus starts with the naughty Fred-related word pictures, and Wes looks uneasily toward the camera. Angelus 1, Wes 0.

Topside, nobody's happy. Gunn is badly rattled by Angelus' words. Reassurances from Fred, Cordy and Lorne that Angelus is not to be believed eventually calm him, but there's an uneasiness in the air as they return to the monitors.

Wesley is admitting touche, but he presses on. Angelus lets this much slip; they've been looking in the wrong place for information about the Beast, but he won't go any further. Wes points out that if Angelus and the Beast were enemies, he'd be doing Angelus a favor by disposing of it. Unable to assail that line of thought, Angelus tries a new tack; bringing up Wes's less-than-ultra-cool past. It doesn't faze him, but Angelus points out, "You've got no leverage. What are you going to do, kill me?" Wes very reluctantly assents, which doesn't impress Angelus. Wes more comfortably threatens to put Angel's soul back, and Angelus retaliates that it would be one more of Wesley's plans that failed, but we've seen the first small slip in his composure. Wes turns to go, saying that he's wasting his time. Angelus gets in a shot about Fred, and makes it clear he won't fall for Wes' bluff. Now it's a baiting contest; Wesley hits Angelus with all the good Angel's done, and Angelus comments on Wes perpetually having to play second fiddle to Angel. "Anybody ever call you a champion?" he asks. This gets Wes off track, and Angelus begins to list Wes's failures, including his inability to prevent Lilah from attacking Lorne, and also Faith. Wes hits back with Angelus being twice resouled and saving the world. Angelus serenely continues, bringing up Wes's theft of Connor, and his father's disapproval of him. Wes notes that Angelus' son disapproves of him as well, and Angelus admits, "Little twerp really gives me the creeps."

Wes brings up Cordy's vision of Angelus and the Beast, and Angelus starts in on Cordy. "Now there's a rack to write home about. Too bad about the personality, though; yap yap yap yap yap." Upstairs, Cordy doesn't flinch, but it's obvious this runs deep. Angelus mocks Cordy's recent inability to cope with Angel's past. Lorne and Gunn offer to change the channel, but Cordy assures them she's okay. She might want to rethink that; Angelus lets loose with the news that Cordy slept with Connor. The gang starts making dismissive noises, but a look at Cordy (and Lorne) is enough to confirm it; Cordy just stands there and takes it. Wes is clearly out of material, and Angelus starts making noise for vamp food. Connor himself just happens to walk in at that moment, exhausted from a long fight, and is greeted with gawks and silence. Despite this, he relates what he's learned about incoming vampires.

Gunn and Fred are sent down to give blood. Angelus greets them with the obvious Shakespeare allusion, and this Iago is no less effective than the original. Gunn has the crossbow well aimed as Fred gets the cart for the blood, and shoots lip back at Angelus. Undeterred, Angelus turns back to Fred, not very subtly indicating that he can hear her and Gunn in their room, and has been able to for weeks. Gunn still isn't shaken, but Fred is. She gingerly rolls the cart toward the cell.

Uh, Fred? Next time put the thing in a thermos and shove the cart over. Preferably with a shuffleboard stick.

Angelus shoves the cart toward Fred. She's knocked towards the cell, and within instants, he's got her pressed against the bars and his hand around her throat. Gunn loses it in short order, dropping the crossbow and trying to wrench the vampire's hand free, but suddenly a tranquilizer dart shoots into Angelus' arm. As he loosens his grip and falls back, Wes, from the staircase, shoots another one for good measure. Fred rushes into Gunn's arms. As he goes upstairs, Wesley admonishes Gunn for dropping his weapon, then looks back once more to watch the lovers comfort each other.

Upstairs, Cordelia's getting clothes for a very naked, and un-self-conscious, Connor. Connor puts on his father's clothes, and gets ready to go back out. Cordelia protests; Connor's exhausted, he can't go back out there. Connor doesn't feel entirely welcome because of weird lookness, and assumes that people still think he's connected to the Beast. Cordelia comes clean, and admits that Angelus told everyone about Connor and Cordelia. Connor shrugs it off; if Angel doesn't care that people know, why should he? Cordelia protests Connor's choice of name, but he's not really seeing the difference, and doesn't want to hear Cordelia give instructions to him, either. Cordy, who's not even a little bit pregnant, walks out.

Fred comes into Wesley's office. This can't be good. Wesley starts with the research, but Fred wants to thank him for saving her life. Wes checks for Gunn, who's not. Fred brings up what Angelus said about them, and Wesley tenses like a man in the guillotine. Fred begins the let-down-easy speech, to which Wesley promptly dashes in and kisses her like nobody's business. She really doesn't complain, but manages to disengage herself just before Gunn comes in. It's too little too late, though; he quickly twigs to the setup. Fred tries to dissuade him, but Wesley doesn't even bother, merely demanding that Gunn direct his rage at Wes instead of Fred. Gunn then proceeds to tell both of them off, and warns Wes to back off. Meanwhile, downstairs, Angelus is awake, and liking what he hears.

The voices are carrying even to non-vamp ears as Connor seems to sneak away, and soon it spills out into the lobby, Gunn and Wes exchanging all manner of barbs as Fred attempts to play mediator. There's plenty of old wounds to open; Gunn's possessiveness of Fred, Wes's previous failures, the gang's refusal to forgive. Lorne tries to intervene, and is told to butt out. Finally Wes lets fly one taunt too many and Gunn pastes him one. Suddenly it's a smackdown; the two of them exchange punches with abandon, stopped only when Gunn accidently pelts Fred. The horror he feels is reflected on the expressions surrounding him.

Cordy, however, has another uh-oh; looking at the monitor, she sees Connor approaching the cage. Angelus at first looks apprehensive, but soon covers; "Is that my shirt?" Connor's been warned about Angelus, and Angelus mentions that Connor's promised to kill him if the need arises, and adds, "With your track record, I'll be staking myself by the end of the day." Connor doesn't get that, and here Angelus resorts to outright lying for the first time, telling Connor that Darla killed herself because she couldn't stand having him inside of her. He does tell the truth about Holtz's death, though, and this touches a nerve. Angelus goes on to Cordelia, and Connor's ill-fated affair with her. "Doing your mom and trying to kill your dad," Angelus muses. "There ought to be a play."

Connor states his indifference to Angelus' words, reciting how Angel told him he, and not Angelus, was Connor's real father. Angelus is less than touched, but Connor says that he doesn't believe that; "the truth is, Angel's just something that you're forced to wear." He believes Angelus, not Angel, to be his real father. Angelus likes this development. He starts with the goading, and Connor isn't exactly hip to the game. As Angelus slings one barb after another, Connor strides closer and closer to the door of the cage--until Cordelia's voice is heard ordering him upstairs. Connor refuses at first, but ultimately acquieses, and Angelus hurls taunts at his departing figure.

Before even approaching the cage, Cordy reaches up and turns the camera off. "Just couldn't stay away," Angelus starts, but before he can finish tuning up, Cordy, all business, says, "You and I are going to make a deal." He tells them everything he knows about the beast, and Cordy assures him of something better than a new car--her. In every sense of the offer. Angelus scoffs like George Bush getting valentine candy from Saddam, but Cordelia is insistent, so much so that Angelus finally runs out of quips, and can only express disbelief. "Look in my eyes," Cordelia counters. "Angel knows me--you know me--better than anyone, So when you look at me, you know I'm not lying." Angelus starts to smile again.

Upstairs, the gang is somewhat sceptical about Angelus' change of heart, with Lorne hoping Cordy worked some higher-power mojo on him, and Connor asking her outright what she did, followed by everybody else. She point-blank refuses to answer, and after some gentle persuasion, Wesley lets the matter drop.

Downstairs, Angelus begins to relate the tale; in 1789, in Prussia ("Those Prussian girls. Must be the pastries...all that sweetness gets into their blood"), he was en route to Vienna, but was being followed by someone. At some point, he came across a mass of slaughtered troops, and the method of killing made it clear nothing human had done the job: "Bodies, bodies everywhere, and not a drop to drink." Turns out the Beast had killed all the troops not (just) for fun, but in an effort to get Angelus' attention. And I'm thinking, chocolates? Gift certificate? The Beast wanted Angelus' help in dispatching some enemies of his, namely the Svea priestesses, powerful practictioners that could banish the beast to a hell-dimension it couldn't escape from. The priestesses were using their magic to keep the Beast from hurting them, but nothing would protect them from Angelus if he agreed to go after them. "A limited partnership." Angelus turned down the offer: "I'm not big with teamwork." The Beast was displeased by this refusal, and began to pound Angelus silly, and which of us wouldn't, but our hero was saved in the nick of time; at that moment, the Svea showed up and performed the banishing ritual, and the Beast was dispatched. How, exactly, Angelus is not able to relate, however: "I was busy with the passing out."

Upstairs, we're researching the Svea, and trying desperately to ignore yet more furtive looks and glares 'twixt Wesley, Gunn, and Fred. Turns out they're a mystical order of Nordic priestess. The Svea, that is, not Wes and--well, you knew that. There's no actual mention of the Beast, but the coordinates track with what Angelus told them. And of course, there just happens to be a parish in town.

Wes, Cordy and Connor hit the place; it's a largish house on the outskirts of town. Wes rings the bell, and then knocks. When no one answers, he tries the door, which opens easily. They make their way though the house, but there's an odd smell in the air. When they get to the living room, a less-than-welcome sight greets them; the Svea family, lying on the floor, butchered. Women, children, the works. The gang reels, taking in the fact that they're one step behind yet again. Theories are floated; psychic power, surveillance, Angelus. Wes, however, examines the bodies, and estimates their deaths as taking place several days ago. This means different things to different people; as Cordy takes in just how ahead of the game the Beast must be, Connor grapples, surprisingly, with the horror he feels at the Svea family being left to rot for days on end. As Wes and Cordy search, Wes turns up a banishment incantation, while Connor runs outside. Cordy goes after him to find him throwing up on the front lawn. She sits down next to him. "The sun should be up," she says. "It's different, isn't it? Dead demons are just a big blob of oozing mess. Vampires turn to dust like they were never anything at all. But humans...it's different."

"It's not--" Connor starts.

"What?"

Connor looks very far away for a moment. Then, as if uttering an incantation of his own, he pronounces the word: "Family."

Interrupting this moment of reverie is a vampire, leaping over the flagstones for some fun. Another follows, and punches Cordy out. Connor stakes one of them, and is holding his own against the other, when Wes's 4x4 plows into them. C&C climb on board, and they vamoose.

Back at the B&O, the remaining gang is watching Ed Sullivan--or, sorry, it's Angelus' encore presentation of "Teddy Bears' Picnic." They can't get over how calm he is, despite being in a cage. Lorne points out that "in his mind, he's not." Cos-mic, man. The others return, and relate the news of the Svea's singularly inconvenient demise. A consensus is quickly reached (although Connor abstains); Angelus is no more use to them; they need Angel back. Wes goes to fetch the shaman, and Cordy--

--sneaks downstairs. She relates the news of the Svea family's murder to Angelus, who sighs in dismay: "I'm always missing the fun stuff." He claims that it's not his fault their plan didn't work out, but Cordy's got a loophole: "The deal was: you give us information, we save the world, you get me. Well, world not saved." Angelus has a less than happy non-verbal at this.

We're opening the safe. Everyone's kind of fidgety.

Angelus, cooly, tells Cordy there'll be a reckoning for this; she shrugs it off, explaining that the gang is in the process of restoring his soul. He scoffs, and she taunts him about how he won't be around to see the apocalypse, which after all is his favoritest thing ever. He denies this, but she comes back at him: "You're nobody. Just a disease. And Angel can't wait to be rid of you." Angelus seethes, makes ungentlemanly threats, and finally reaches through the bars for her, but she doesn't flinch. "The more you piss me off, the longer I'll keep you alive," he calls to her departing back.

Cordy comes upstairs, to find the gang a frozen tableau in front of the safe. "What?" she asks.

Fred turns to her, stricken. "Angel's soul," she says. "It's gone."

And so it is. The safe in front of them holds a big fat tub of empty. Cordy meeps.

Mike's Review

Continuity: Angelus, by all appearances, has officially reclaimed command of Angel's body.

Angelus knew the Beast over two hundred years ago in Eastern Europe, where it was defeated by Svea priestesses, Unfortunately, they're all dead.

Everyone knows about Connor and Cordy doing the shuckaducka.

Angelus is well and truly pissed at Cordelia.

Angel's soul is missing.

Relationships: Gunn and Wesley's competition over Fred has descended to blows. Connor's still nursing a big old jones for Cordy.

Characters: Connor is the only one who doesn't seem the slightest bit intimidated with Angelus, which isn't surprising, seeing as he's the only one who can match the vampire's strength. And of everyone there, he's probably got the clearest idea of what Angelus used to be; this is the thing that killed Holtz's family, after all. Now Connor sees this as a chance to avenge his stepfather, and accomplish what Holtz never could.

Still, the boy's got some serious impulse control issues, and is not real good at thinking things through; he plays right into Angelus' hands, and only relents from engaging him with extreme sulk. He is not happy about having to take orders from Cordelia, who's spurned him, either. He seems to be adapting to urban life, though; he's got the tourist snobbery thing down.

With Angel gone, Wes assumes command almost instinctively, without so much as the slightest discussion or dispute; no one even thinks to bring up his past misdeeds or questionable white-hat status (except for during the fight, but even then it's never referred to again). They follow his orders to the letter, even Gunn, punch-ups over the Gurl notwithstanding. And he doesn't do too bad against Angelus, who throws every jab he can think of against him, and Wes, for the most part, manages to stay on track without being rattled. It's only when Angelus starts reeling off his failures that you can see the hurt on his face, but still he only gets in a brief verbal joust before righting himself. But in his initial speech, he reveals the self-doubts and insecurity that still hamper him, and keep him from being the leader he wants to be. And yet tiny hints of the old, over-eager Watcher poke through; his excitement to meet Angelus (although he seemed to forget that they've met once before, in Eternity), while a possible interrogation tactic, seemed genuine enough. And he seems absurdly flattered by Angelus' few positive words about him; one thinks that it's probably been so long since Wes heard any kind of complimentary word directed toward him, that he's hungry enough for praise to accept it from Angelus.

In which case, it's not at all surprising that he takes what he can get from Fred without a second thought, or even an attempt at being discreet. As much as he still wants to do right and save people, winning Fred has become an all-consuming idea to him, so much so that one has to wonder if he's really seeing her as a person anymore. She almost seems to have grown to symbolize the idea of redemption to him, of success, of belonging, everything he feels he's lost. It's become such an idee fixe to him that he can't even ask if pursuing her is something best put off until after the apocalypse, let alone whether someone who would give up on her current mate so easily is worth pursuing.

Oh, and Wes? Having everyone watch the monitors together? Not the best idea.

Still, he's more resistant to Angelus' manipulations than Gunn, who the vampire plays like a violin. Gunn's quickly enraged by his insinuations, and utterly unable to focus on the task at hand. And once Fred is threatened, he loses all control, completely unable to think rationally enough to save her; contrast with Wes, who never loses his cool, even though he cares for Fred (seemingly) just as much as Gunn does. No doubt it's the shame of that fact, compounded by the discovery of Wes and Fred kissing, that sends Gunn over the edge, and Wes, a year's worth of bitterness and barbs having been held in, is happy to join the battle. It takes actually harming Fred physically to bring Gunn to his senses.

Fred remains an enigma; she runs right to Charles when she gets scared, and she seems on the verge of letting Wes down, but she does not back away one second from that kiss, and makes no effort to mend fences with Gunn before, during, or after the fight. She makes no real effort to deny Angelus' implications about her true feelings being for Wesley, either. It's also perplexing how her toughness comes and goes; one minute she's skittish around Angelus, the next she's cursing him out. Could it have anything to do with having Wes in the room, as opposed to Gunn? One guesses that she still cares for Gunn, but is so tired of the unpleasantness between them that she's looking elsewhere for some kind of validation. But we don't know, and her utter refusal (or inability) to be an adult about the situation makes it hard to care too much.

Cordy's behavior seems bizarre almost to the point of disassociation, and it's hard to comment on it without taking into account what we know now. Her offer, followed by its retraction, to Angelus seems foolhardy at best, and likely to accomplish nothing except raise his ire. She's very tender with Connor, but gives no indication of having anything other than motherly feelings for him. And she's crimson at the revelation about the two, but makes no attempt to defend or explain it. What could it all mean?

What is interesting, however, is her attitude toward Angelus. Most of the others talk to him as if he was someone they hadn't met before. But Cordelia, despite using the different names for the two personas, deals with him the same way she deals with Angel--blunt, intimate, no barriers.

Angelus is almost serenely calm throughout it all, as remarked on by the others. There's two reasons I can think of to explain his sanguinity in the face of imprisonment; one is his single-mindedness. The only thing he's interested in doing is hurting the others any way he can, and he's got plenty of knowledge to do it with. He knows everything there is to know about his captors, and is exceptionally good at finding the right buttons to push, even when they're aware that's what he's doing. And no matter how much misery we see the others suffer because of his machinations, one can't help but feel a savage glee at how easily he pulls the others' strings, and how much he obviously enjoys it. There's just something about watching a guy do what he loves best.

However, there is another side to Angelus' delight; for the past hundred years (give or take a few commercial breaks) he's been in a much more secure cage than the Hyperion's basement. One hypothesizes that being trapped by Angel's soul makes the cell he's in now look like an open 100-acre field to him; indeed, the only times he gets even slightly rattled is when the possibility of restoring the soul comes up.

He seems to hold nothing but malevolent amusement toward Wes, Gunn, and Fred (and Lorne he takes no notice of at all), but with Cordy and Connor it's a little more personal. They're his closest link to humanity, the things he cares most about as Angel; conversely, they're also the two hardest people for him to rattle. He seems delighted to find out that Connor considers him his real father; is it because he sees a way to manipulate Connor into inadvertently helping him get free? Or some other reason? It interests me how cavalierly he discusses Darla's death; does it affect him that little? Or is that part of the show? Although, granted, Angelus never was one for warm and fuzzy, it surprises me that he doesn't make some comment to Connor about costing him his lifemate.

Lorne has little to do except stand around and be Greek-chorus-guy. Which is a shame.

Best moments: Wesley's, er, "pep" talk to the group. It's heartbreaking to hear him admit that he's not ready for this, even as it makes you want to dope-smack him.

The whole first face-off between Angelus and Wesley. Alexis Denisov has been acting to pieces all season, showing multitudes while trying to hide everything. And David Boreanaz is having too good a time not to be effective.

Angelus' reffing of Othello and Oedipus Rex. Now that's how you demonstrate a character's intelligence.

The war of words leading up to the fight between Wes and Gunn. We've been waiting for this for so long, that it almost felt like a relief when it happened. And Angelus' quietly amused "That was fast," was priceless.

Angelus' slightly queasy, "I'm gonna cry," after hearing Connor recite Angel's proclamation of fatherhood.

Cordelia laying it out for Angelus. As bizarre as it was, she was utterly unshook by him, and it was very cool to behold.

Cordy comforting Connor outside the house. A nice moment, with some gently poetic dialogue.

Questions and comments: There still seems to be a lot of confusion about whether Angelus is reallyAngel, or vice versa. I tend to see it as being open to interpretation, much like early theologians used to differ on the nature of the Holy Trinity (Oh, back off; I've been reading a lot of Roman history lately, ok?) Connor sees Angelus as Angel's true self, with Angel as something forced in where it doesn't belong. Cordy seems to consider Angelus an unfortunate affliction that Angel must suffer. I'm not so sure that it matters which interpretation is correct; what really matters is what Angel believes, and he's always taken responsibility for Angelus' deeds. And there's no reason to think that he'll stop after this is over, either.