A guy and girl run down the mean streets, pursued by an unidentified nasty thing. Anne's plot device refugee center. Anne hands a worker a (rather small) pile of blankets and adds, "Tell Eva to go to the storage room. I bought a bunch of new sleeping bags last week, just in case we got crowded." Yeah, I'll bet she's got quite a bunch. Like, two million dollars worth! Johanna suggests that Anne bought some Prada fleece-lined sleeping bags. I suggest that they have platinum zippers. Anne's pretty. I have no opinion of her beyond that, since she hasn't demonstrated much personality. The two kids who were being chased earlier start pounding at the door. Anne answers, and the boy, Kenny, says he knows that it's past curfew, but Anne has to let them in. Anne insists on following the rules, and adds that the shelter is already full. The girl says, "Please, we'll sleep on the floor." She's totally angling for one of those Prada sleeping bags. The kids try to express fear, and don't really succeed, but Anne lets them in anyway. Hey, Anne's wearing sneakers! A girl! On the WB! Wearing realistic footwear! I give her an extra point for that. The camera pans over to a shadowy corner outside the building, where the shadowy figure lurks. In a policeman's uniform. Gasp, I guess.
Credits. I can't get that damn song I made up last week out of my head. Now I wish I'd spent more than five minutes on it.
Whoa, crazy spinning "Ray of Light" cityscape blipvert. Cut to Merl, packing. I don't think the iMac is gonna fit in that suitcase. He walks across the room and almost crashes into Angel. Merl moans, "Can't you knock?" Angel says, "You don't make that funny expression when I knock. Or if you do, I don't see it." That made me almost kinda sorta laugh a teeny bit. Merl explains that he's leaving town, Angel is unhappy to hear that. "Who's gonna tell me all the fun facts about my friends?" he grumps. Merl says, "Big meeting tomorrow night, some top-level Wolfram & Hart brass, I think it's a new demon account. 9:30, Diaghilev, and that concludes my career as a professional informant, all right? Consider it a freebie, just like every other bit of information I've ever given you." He sounds bitter. I suspect Angel is the wrong guy to try to out-bitter. Diaghilev is an upscale Franco-Russian restaurant. Thank you, Google. The Tournedos Igor Stravinsky looks yummy. Angel asks why Merl is leaving, and Merl whines about a steady stream of beings who threaten him to get information. He also complains about how at least Wesley understood what a working relationship was, by which he means, Wesley paid him. Like Wesley had a choice -- he couldn't intimidate a kitten, much less Merl. Anyway, Merl says, "You don't care about anyone but yourself," so that we get this week's obligatory "bad selfish Angel" reminder out of the way. Merl snidely asks about Angel's former employees, "They doin' all right? Aw, gee, lemme guess: you never even bothered to check." Angel broods about what a bad, bad man he is. Thanks a lot, Merl. We sure haven't seen that particular expression enough.