Wednesday. 9:30 am. LAX. A bleary-eyed man with a tanned, weather-beaten face and week-long stubble stands by the baggage carousel. He takes a cigarette out of his right jacket pocket and a wooden match of of his left. He puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights the match against the stubble underneath his chin. After taking a few drags, an airport employee politely reminds him that smoking in the airport is illegal. He glares at the pimply young man and blows two smoke rings around his head. The young man goes to get a security guard. Finally, a large chest comes around. He picks it up with two hands and walks towards the door. Someone is suppose to meet him. Someone discreet. Instead, he sees a chauffer holding up a large placard with CLAUDE MARCEL written in magic marker. Claude shakes his head and introduces himself to the driver, who takes his chest and carries it to the trunk. Claude gets in the limo and is pleased to see a bottle of cognac in the mini-bar. He doesn't usually drink this early in the morning. But on this occasion, he knows it will help calm his nerves.
By 10:00, Claude is in the lobby of Wolfram & Hart. His chest is on a cart someone from human resources so helpfully brought him. A man in a three-piece suit approaches him, smiling and with his right hand outstretched.
NIGEL: Great to see you Claude. What happen to you?
Claude eagerly shakes his hand.
CLAUDE: I spent a week sailing from Brest to Bristol. That was the only way to lose them.
NIGEL: I've heard those Bringers can be quite persistent.
CLAUDE: They weren't Bringers. They were something far worse.
NIGEL: No need to worry, Claude. You'll be safe with us. I hope you're not worried by our reputation.
CLAUDE: You mean because the Council says this place is on the wrong side? I never trusted the Council. Any you know us French. Always willing to collaborate when the going gets tough.
NIGEL: [chuckles] Delighted to have you on board, old boy.
CLAUDE: As you can see, I brought my new employers a present.
NIGEL: So it appears. Let's head up to your new offices.
Nigel takes Claude upstairs and shows him the 22nd floor.
NIGEL: I'm sure the Council never gave you an office that large. Or one with such a view.
CLAUDE: Yes. It's a breathtaking panorama of desolation.
NIGEL: I know Los Angeles is an acquired taste, but you'll adjust.
CLAUDE: Have you?
NIGEL: Not yet. It's only been four months.
They head into a large, windowless library in the center of the floor. Claude notices the oak panelling, leather chairs and large marble fireplace, which obviously is purely decorative. Someone's gone to an awful lot of trouble to create an artificial habitat for Watchers.
CLAUDE: An impressive collection. [puts chest on top of a table] And it's about to get even more impressive.
Claude opens the chest. Nigel peers inside and looks over the scores of rare volumes his old colleague has brought him.
NIGEL: Goodness. Some of these works are priceless. [flips through one book] The complete Nicephorus. I didn't know it still existed.
CLAUDE: I hope this will be enough to earn me a position.
NIGEL: More than adequate. [opens his briefcase and pulls out a contract] I hope you'll feel the same way about your compensation.
Claude looks over the contract and laughs.
CLAUDE: If I knew they would pay me this much, I would have switched sides years ago.
Nigel pats him on the back. Claude doesn't like people touching him.
NIGEL: I thought the same thing.
Claude puts the contract down on the table and pulls out a fountain pen from his left jacket pocket. He takes off the top and prepares to sign. Nigel leans over to watch. Claude shoots the pen upwards and sticks the point into Nigel's neck. Turns out the pen has a hypodermic needle inside. After injecting Nigel with a considerable amount of sedative, Claude pulls the pen out of Nigel's neck, puts the cap back on, returns the pen to his coat pocket, and looks around the room. He pulls out a shelf of books and puts them in the chest with the volumes he brought. Then Claude closes the chest, puts it back on the cart, and searches Nigel's pockets. After pulling out everything that might be useful, he leaves the room and takes the elevator back downstairs. He wears Nigel's badge on his shirt pocket, hoping the security guard in the parking garage won't look too closely and the picture. He doesn't. Claude had asked Nigel what kind of car he could afford on a Wolfram & Hart salary, and Nigel was only too eager to brag about his new wheels. This made it easy to spot Nigel's car. Claude put the chest in the back seat and drove away.
With the heist complete, Claude has a problem getting where he wants to go in a city he is entirely unfamiliar with. By noon, he has made it to his destination. Xander's crew is off on their lunch break, freeing up the lobby. Wesley takes advantage of this respite to do some research in Angel's office. Claude walks in to find the place deserted and under repairs. He worries the people he wants to meet are were gone on this day. Tired from all the carrying, Claude drops his chest on the floor. The noise causes Wesley to come out of the office. Both men look very surprised.
WES: Claude? Claude, is that you?
CLAUDE: I am the least of your surprises today, Pricey.
Wesley is suspicious. The two of them had never gotten along. Claude used to tease him for being a pompous wimp.
WES: What are you doing here?
Claude pulls down the latches and opens the lid of his chest.
CLAUDE: Giving you these. Take a look.
Claude steps away and lets Wesley thumb through the books. The treasure trove makes Wes speechless. So Claude explains.
CLAUDE: The most precious texts from the Paris library. And the creme de la creme from the London Office, liberated from Wolfram & Hart.
WES: How did you do that? How did they get them?
CLAUDE: Nigel turned. I convinced him I was going to do the same. He should be regaining consciousness within the hour. Which is why I have to leave. Now the First isn't my only enemy. I hope you and that vampire can protect these books for the time being. Is he around?
Down in the sewers, Angel and Connor fight two large, gray demons with yellow bumps all over their bodies, except for their heads, which are smooth. They have tusks which curve upwards from their lower jaw and reach nearly to their eyes. Angel and Connor subdue them and slam the demons into the wall. Angel starts choking one of them.
ANGEL: Tell me where the you took the children.
LURA: Fat chance, fangy. My boss would have my head on a platter.
ANGEL: Talk, or I'll take care of that for him.
LURA: You kill me, you'll never find them.
ANGEL: I know. Connor, kill his wife.
LURA: I'd like to see the little boy try.
Lura's wife, who has six inches and at least 100 pounds on her adversary, head-butts Connor in the nose and hits him in the mouth with her right forearm. Connor ducks under a left hook and hits her in the tusks with a left jab and a right cross. She pounds down on the top of his head with her right fist. Connor connects with a right uppercut, a left hook kick and a right roundhouse kick. Then he slams her face-first into the floor and grabs her head with his two hands, ready to snap her neck. Lura can't understand why the blow to the top of Connor's head didn't knock him unconscious.
LURA: That boy's skull's gotta be two inches thick.
ANGEL: He is stubborn. And he loves to kill demons. I'm not sure how long I can keep him from snapping your wife's neck. Maybe five seconds tops.
Connor plays along and tries to pry out her right tusk while giving Lura his best homicidal grin. Lura's wife screams. Connor laughs.
LURA: Okay okay okay. I'll tell ya what you want to know.
ANGEL: I can remember your scent. Connor, can you remember their scent?
CONNOR: I could smell it from a mile away.
ANGEL: I bet your boss can't track like that. And if we found out you're lying, they'll be scrubbing you and the missus off the walls.
WES: Angel is out on business. Your books are safe with him. I'm sure he'll be nearly as thrilled by this news as I am. Maybe not nearly. This collection. It's absolutely astounding. The complete Maratha, in the original Avestan. I thought that had vanished. But what's this - the Pergamene scrolls?
CLAUDE: From the Greek. The Pergamene codex is derived from the Latin translation, which is incomplete and therefore often misleading. Compare the texts. You'll see what I mean.
WES: This is absolutely astonishing. I'm quite familiar with the London collection, but I had no idea so many gems were in Paris.
CLAUDE: I knew you would appreciate this. Is there someplace I can shower?
WES: Certainly. Anywhere. Most of the rooms are empty.
CLAUDE: Thank you. I had a very long flight. And I haven't shaved in nine days. To pull of my job, I thought it would help to look haggard and desperate. Is that what you're doing?
Claude walks away. Wesley has never appreciated Claude's routine gibes. But in this case, he'll let it pass. As Wes looks at the books, he realizes that he possesses the best collection of prophecies, portents and demonology in the western hemisphere. It feels like the best Christmas ever. Gunn and Fred walk into the lobby and find Wes in a state of intellectual ecstasy.
GUNN: Wesley? Wesley, you there?
FRED: The one time I saw that look on a man who had his clothes on, he thought he proved general relativity.
Wesley looks up at her.
WES: To be honest, I'd take this over a Unified Field Theory any day. No one ever saved the world by learning the secrets of the universe.
FRED: Really? That means I could be the first.
GUNN: What's so special 'bout these books?
FRED: Sidonius of Poitiers. The Cumean Prophecies! Sixth-century Armorican Chronicles. Oh my God. Oh my God. Wesley, how did you get these?
GUNN: Why you two acting like you found the ultimate stash of nerd porno?
After shaving and showering, Claude stepped out of the bathroom and began to get dressed. He had his pants on, and was about to put his shirt on, when Connor entered. He looks at the stranger with great suspicion. Claude eyes the boy with some alarm.
CONNOR: Who are you?
CLAUDE: Who am I? Who are you?
CONNOR: I live here. I ask the questions.
Claude puts his shirt on and starts buttoning it. Connor watches closely to make sure he doesn't reach into his pockets for weapons. He grabs Claude's coat from off the bed and searches the pockets. He puts the jacket back down after taking out the pen. He's never seen a fountain pen, and takes off the lid.
CLAUDE: I was given permission to be here. You weren't given permission to search me.
Connor pokes at the pen's point. The hypodermic needle is hidden inside unless Connor arms the pen by twisting it. Connor still finds pen's normal point to be quite sharp.
CONNOR: You write with this, or stab people?
CLAUDE: I could do both. You could do both. Try to do it to me, and this will turn into a very bad day for you.
Connor smiles at the threat.
CONNOR: Don't need weapons to take care of you. [puts lid back on and tosses pen on the bed]
CLAUDE: I'm tougher than I look.
CONNOR: So am I.
CLAUDE: From looking at you, I'd say that's no great achievement.
Claude is provoking the wrong kid. Fortunately, he is doing so in the right building. Connor reaches out to push Claude back into the wall with his right hand. Claude grabs Connor's right wrist with his left hand and tries to twist it, but can't. Connor attempts to punch Claude in the sternum, but a barrier forms. Connor remembers the house rules. Claude deduces them and smiles.
WES: I let him take a shower upstairs. I hope you don't mind.
ANGEL: A Frenchman who doesn't like to be smelly. I don't mind that at all.
WES: Where's Connor?
ANGEL: He said he heard something upstairs. [looks worried]
WES: Oh dear.
Wesley races upstairs. Angel starts to do this, but stops after a few steps. He turns around to explain to Fred and Gunn.
ANGEL: Connor wouldn't do anything to him. He's a good guy.
GUNN: Connor?
FRED: Claude?
ANGEL: Well, both of them. There's no reason to think Connor would hurt someone on our side because of a little misunderstanding.
All three of them look alarmed.
GUNN: Wait! What about the spell? Connor can't touch him.
ANGEL: I forgot.
FRED: That's the nice thing about a sanctuary spell. It keeps the good guys from attacking each other.
CLAUDE: You said you lived here. Do you work for Angel?
CONNOR: That's none of your business.
CLAUDE: For a good guy, you're not being very forthcoming.
CONNOR: For a bad guy, you talk too much.
WES: It's okay Connor. He's with me, [gasps for air] and he's here to help us.
Connor doesn't know much about Wesley. And while he doesn't distrust Wes, he doesn't trust him either. Claude finishes buttoning his shirt and puts on his jacket. He reaches his right hand across the bed.
CLAUDE: Claude Marcel. Nice to meet you, Connor.
Connor looks at the hand for a few seconds before quickly shaking it.
CONNOR: Why didn't you tell me?
CLAUDE: There are a number of people who want me dead. I have to be careful.
WES: Go talk to Angel. He'll explain.
Connor leaves the room. Claude walks out from behind the bed towards Wesley.
CLAUDE: Maybe you can explain.
WES: I'm very sorry Claude. That was Angel's son.
CLAUDE: What? Impossible!
WES: I know it's hard to believe, but -
CLAUDE: The vampire dauphin was born 18 months ago. That boy was no enfant. An enfant terrible, perhaps.
WES: How did you know?
CLAUDE: No expert in the field could fail to notice that much vampire cult activity.
WES: The Council knows about Connor?
CLAUDE: The Council was not an expert in the field.
WES: Which field? Prophecies?
CLAUDE: Vampires.
WES: You haven't changed a bit.
CLAUDE: No. But everything around me has. Including you, it seems. Tell me how this Connor has changed so quickly.
WES: He grew up in another dimension.
CLAUDE: In the wild? Like Enkidu?
WES: Not exactly. Lebanon and Sumeria were not in different dimensions.
CLAUDE: Youre right. It's a poor analogy. [laughs] Unless Connor tried to kill Angel and then lost his virginity to a beautiful, older female friend of Angel's.
Claude has a few more chuckles before walking out of the room. Wesley takes a moment to think about Claude's "joke."
WES: But then Buffy would kill Connor after he reconciled with Angel. I hope Claude's not onto something there.
Claude comes downstairs and meets Angel, Gunn and Fred in the lobby. Connor's also there.
ANGEL: I'm sorry. My son didn't know.
CLAUDE: Its my fault. If I knew my enemies couldn't touch me in here, I would have been more forthcoming.
ANGEL: To be fair, I know that Wolfram & Hart and the First Evil are two very good reasons to be careful.
CLAUDE: So you're familiar with the law firm I stole from?
ANGEL: Far too familiar. Where are my manners. This is Winifred Burkle and Charles Gunn.
CLAUDE: Pleasure. Are you his employees?
FRED: Associates.
GUNN: Partners.
FRED: Right. Partners.
CLAUDE: All for one, one for all, I suppose. [looks Angel over] So you're the legendary Angel. I expected you to be taller. [shrugs, then notices Wes has come down. Claude rubs his now-smooth face] There is one thing I miss about my stubble. [Pulls out a match and lights it against Wesley's face. He looks outraged and grabs his cheek. Gunn laughs. Claude lights his cigarette and looks around the lobby.] What happened here?
FRED: There's a good reason it looks like the world almost ended in here. Because it did. Almost. At least that's what it seemed like.
CLAUDE: I thought those things usually happened at my next destination.
WES: You're going to Sunnydale?
CLAUDE: I should check in with Rupert. And I need to leave this city right away. By now, Nigel's probably awake. And he might have noticed I stole his auto.
FRED: Do you usually commit this much grand theft on a normal given day?
CLAUDE: Only whenever I set foot in Los Angeles.
GUNN: How many times ya been here?
CLAUDE: This is my first.
He looks over Angel's weapons, and takes one he likes. It has a curved, two foot-long blade atop a six foot-long metal shaft. He practices using it.
CLAUDE: This is a very nice gleave. What is the shaft, hollow steel with a nickel coating?
ANGEL: Aluminum.
CLAUDE: One shouldn't travel to a Hellmouth unarmed. [he twirls the shaft round between the fingers on his right hand] I'm taking this with me.
ANGEL: No you're not! That's my niginata!
CLAUDE: And that's my library. Ask Pricey who's getting the better deal.
Claude walks up the steps and opens the front door with his left hand. He holds the niginata in his left hand, the blade facing forward. At the same time, the construction crew is returning, and Xander nearly walks into the point. He stops six inches short.
XANDER: Whoa. Careful where you point that - [looks at Claude] Mister . . . I've never seen you before in my life. What are you doing with that weapon?
Claude pulls his weapon back so the point faces straight up and wrote accidentally skewer anyone.
CLAUDE: Greeting an old friend and killing a few new enemies.
XANDERS: Hey! What a coincidence. That's what I do every day!
Claude sneers and walks past Xander. He assumes the wisecracking hardhat is trying to make fun of him