"So killing Jenny was a response to an existential crisis? Why not just write bad poetry like my friend here? Tim was quite the Shakespeare in high school, but he never wrote in blood."

"Um, I told you that in confidence, Frank." Bayliss said, blushing. He was the oldest person Frank had ever seen that could still blush. Especially in this job.

"Who's he telling Tim? He's about to have bigger problems where he's going."

"No, no, you don't understand. I had no more concept of meaning than an alley cat before my resouling. Even as a human, it was enough to eat, drink, have sex, and steal to survive. Thinking about deeper meanings almost drove me mad."

"So, that's why you killed Jenny. To stop another resouling."

"I halfway thought she'd get away. She put up a good fight." Angelus said.

"So to make it really fair, you snapped her neck. Say it. Say 'I came up behind her in the hallway, and snapped her neck with my superior strength." Tim said. "Then, I put her body in her upstanding boyfriend's bedroom."

Suddenly someone knocked on the door of the Box. Giardello, about three hours early, and none too amused. "Frank? Shakespeare(the faintest ripple of amusement showed here) this interrogation is over."

"Over?" Frank said. " Gee, what's this all about?'
"I've just gotten off the phone with an awful man named Quentin Travers. Who it must be noted, has more of a feel for international incidents than time differences. But he thinks he and his 'Watcher's Council' have jurisdiction over all supernatural crime. And he wants Angelus in England by Tuesday."I'm appealing, but it means I must forbid you to have any further contact with the suspect today. Sorry."
"Forbid me? Nobody's forbid me to do anything since I was seventeen."

"Call it something else, if it makes you feel better, but the end result is the same. Are we clear?"

Even Bayliss was too stunned to say anything. When they were outside, Frank said " Can you believe that? You and I spend six hours with Mr. Memorex in there, and now some English vigilante is going to get the credit!"

"Forget it, Frank. It's Sunnydale."

"Thank you, Mr. Turner Classic Movies."
"Not just any movie. Chinatown. Just trying to channel my frustration in a form you might recognize."

"Don't bother. It's very annoying."

"Excuse me for living. I've just waited my whole life to say that."

" Which is what? Since Thursday? And you're excused."

"We'll get him, Frank."

"I know that, Tim. See you Monday."

Thanks, Perkins. Think how sad I am, not having ever watched H:LOTS in real time, probably for "RosNRachel4evah!" or something. I was so young and stupid. But now I have all the sexy emotional scars.

Erika,

I've never watched H:LOTS. Since I started reading your fic I have added the Seasons 1&2 DVDs to my NetFlix list. Great fic.

(blush) I could ask no finer compliment. So, no toaster. Maybe the keys to a squad car.

The COW grabbed jurisdiction?

erika! You're EVIL! And unbelievable. And totally on target.

Fucking brilliant stuff. I'm totally verklempt.

But, um t showing my biases towards pretty evil here Angelus gets away, doesn't he?

Thanks, I try. I figured seeing him deal with the Forces of Justice is more of a L&O thing. And if Angelus ate them, I couldn't deal.(To quote Tony Soprano, "I fucking love them.") And how many times has real justice been thwarted by a self-serving bureaucrat? Oh, about a million.

Probably. He has to live and get his own show, Connie. I think the guys were just being consoling when they said that...they do that, sometimes.