They said it was supposed to be a magic potion, and it was self-control, and it was harmony, and it was true that Oz did nothing but smile all day.

Angel stared at him, frowning. Fred was standing a little bit behind him. She asked, "I might be mistaken, but he's crazier than I am, isn't he?"

Angel smiled at her a little. "You're not very crazy anymore."

She turned to glance at Oz, who was stroking the huge couch in the middle of the foyer with one finger. She said, finally, "He is."

"Yeah."

The worst thing about it was, Angel thought, that it took him and Cordelia three minutes to notice that Oz was totally off his rocker. The first sign was when he said, "I don't want that one, no, that one, to come in."

And that was only a sign because Cordelia said, offhand, "I think that's the most I've ever heard him say."

Which made Angel turn around. And Wesley squint. And then Cordelia dropped the pen, muttering, "fuck, how could I--" and she came out from behind the desk, and approached him carefully, and Oz smiled, beatifically, at her, and she smiled uncertainly back. "Oz," she'd said, "Are you okay?"

"It's not really a question, so much. I mean. look. It's Los Angeles, right?"

"Yeah..." Cordelia glanced at Angel. "I mean, nice to see you. Oz. Um."

"You don't know why I'm here, but see, there was this vial, and there were these things, that were smurfs, only they weren't smurfs, and the dog ate one of them and I had to hide." He scratched his ear, suddenly, and asked, "Can I sit down?"

Angel noticed, then, that his hair was blue. And he was totally crazy. Wes just said, "He's a bit odd, don't you think?"

Cordelia took him by the hand and muttered, "You're not wrong."

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