Angel looked up from his desk with an annoyed glare as the door opened. "How many times are we gonna have to have this talk? Unless the world is ending or Buffy's dying, there's no reason you can't knock before you come in here." It wasn't likely he'd be caught in an incriminating position (especially now that Spike was gone), but still, was a little privacy so much to ask for?
The offending intruder was a guard Angel had recruited recently to keep an eye out for unwelcome guests. Specifically, the goal was to make sure Marsha Clellan stayed outside the building and away from Wes, but as it turned out, Ms. Clellan wasn't the problem today.
Once he'd been filled in on the details, Angel left his office, headed for the holding cells down in the basement where the Brachen demon and the hellgoddess were being kept. Spike had warned him a while ago about a hellgoddess hanging out in town, but he'd sort of assumed that was just an exaggeration -- like instead of calling her a bitch, Spike called her a hellgoddess. Apparently that assumption was incorrect. But the part that really threw him for a loop was the Brachen demon. First his dead best friend got resurrected and sent to his office, and now a member of his other dead best friend's species showed up looking for a fight?
And to make matters worse, the hellgoddess was gone -- escaped, presumably -- by the time he got down there. Actually, that was probably a good thing, since hellgods were among the few supernatural creatures who tended to possess more strength than Angel did. As long as she didn't try to come back with reinforcements, he was okay with her leaving. But the Brachen demon was still there, bound and leaning against the wall and resembling Doyle's demon form a little too much for comfort. "You've got twenty seconds to tell me who you are and what you're doing here. If you don't talk, or if I don't like your answer? You die."