Commence the artsy surgery. Blurry jump cuts convey Lindsey's point of view. Surgeons gingerly bring out a plastic hand they bought at the novelty store. Melman says, "You're doing great, Lindsey. Where's the Pockla?" About that time, a demon with long talons appears in one of the Senior Partner's borrowed robes. It fades in, glides over to the operating table on roller-skates, and makes with the spooky chanting. The seams on Lindsey's newly attached limb heal and fade into a light scar. With a final -- and I quote -- "Phhhssshht!" the demon finishes its work and glides off into nothingness. Melman cheerfully orders that Lindsey be moved to post-op.
Gunn is still working the phone at the Hyperion, while Cordy cleans in the background. Angel strolls in and quietly asks Gunn how Cordelia's doing. Dude, she's five feet away. Gunn says, "She grunted once around noon, then got on with the maniacal cleaning." Wesley joins the conference, declaring that he found "more nothing than usual." The gossipy old biddies confer for a moment, and determine that they'll just have to ask Cordy for more information. She's. Five. Feet. Away. Now I can understand why Cordelia thought she was being the epitome of discretion last week, when she at least went into a different room to talk about Harmony. Wesley encourages Angel to speak to Cordy, and Angel replies, "Me? You're the one in charge now." Wesley reluctantly agrees, starts to walk past Angel, then spins and adds, "That's why I'm assigning this one to you." See, this is the sort of thing that encourages me to hate Wesley even more. Because now I feel sympathy for Angel, and that's just wrong. Stupid Wesley.
Gunn and Wesley clear out as Angel oh-so-casually strolls over to Cordy. Quippage about how reflections are visible in the glass Cordy is polishing, although not Angel's reflection, obviously. Cordy has no response. Angel whistles in admiration of the cleaning job. Cordy sighs, "What do you want?" She notes that Mr. One-Eye is probably dead already, and moans, "I wish it would stop hurting." Angel gingerly asks her to look again, and Cordy says that she's been trying. She wanders over toward the computer desk, and I really think they've got a Cube. I can't afford a Cube, but Team-We're-So-Broke can? Grrr. Dear Apple, I would happily plug my shiny new Cube and flat-screen monitor in every recap if you feel inclined to give me one. Even if you are freaking people out with OS X. Love, Strega. Cordy rubs her temple and, after a lot of angst, comes up with a few more details. For instance, she sees a child's backpack with "Delancey School" stenciled upon it. Angel encourages her, and asks whether she can suggest anything else. Which is when Cordy starts crying. Again, aw. Angel says that the others will look into the latest clue first thing in the morning, which makes me wonder why it was so urgent that they put Cordelia through hell as soon as possible. Angel asks if he can get Cordy anything, and she bitterly sniffs, "Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Angel backs off in total "ack! Unpredictable female emotion could destroy me at any moment!" fear. "No reason!" he insists. He's got that terrified look down, and it brings back such pleasant memories, so heh.