|
- Back
We do not own the characters in this story, nor do we own any rights to the television show "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel the Series". They were created by Joss Whedon and belong to him, Mutant Enemy, Sandollar Television, Kuzui Enterprises, 20th Century Fox Television, WB and UPN Television Networks.
Previously, on Buffy the Vampire Slayer... BUFFY is dangling ANDREW over the seal in STORYTELLER BUFFY:[standing right in front of him now, pointing the knife at him] Stop! Stop telling stories. Life isn't a story. ANDREW: [frightened] Sorry. Sorry. BUFFY: Shut up. You always do this. You make everything into a story so no one's responsible for anything because they're just following a script. CUT TO: BUFFY and XANDER standing with TARA in an art gallery. BUFFY: Choice? This isn't a CHOICE. This is BAIT, Xander. It would be a choice if I could go and you could stay, but it's not that way. I meant what I said. I don't want it. Not even for a moment. XANDER: (bitter) What would Buffy do? What she always does -- chooses for her friends. CUT TO: ANDREW, FAITH and XANDER in Scooby central. ANDREW: Xander that is ENOUGH! XANDER: Got something to add, Mr.-I-wasn’t-there-for-all-the-really-bad-stuff? ANDREW: Yes. Where is all this coming from? What's your problem? XANDER: My problem? [pause] MY problem? Her! CUT TO: OZ in the shower, curled up and surrounded by blood. CUT TO: ROOFTOP, NIGHT BUFFY takes FAITH by the shoulders and turns her quickly, shielding her from the coop with her body. A loud gut-wrenched sob breaks from FAITH and the girls sag to their knees together, clutching at one another. The camera pans round to the coop, then moves forward through the bars and comes to rest with a brown hand just in shot. Blood is spreading out on the ground like a spilled glass of wine. Episode begins EXT. A NEW YORK AVENUE, NIGHT Music plays: Roots Manuva, Colossal Insight BUFFY is walking along a crowded street, dressed smartly in a three-quarter length leather coat, her hair back from her face. She’s walking fast but rhythmical, feeling the beat of the city. It’s been snowing, but the snow has mostly melted and the pavements shine very black under BUFFY’s feet and the click of her heels is audible over the music. The famous New York steam rises in clouds from the pavements, and BUFFY’s breath is visible in the cold air. As she walks, neon blinks, polyglot taxi drivers shout. One taxi she passes is being driven by a demon, who speeds up when he sees her. BUFFY is lost in thought and not taking in the sights, but feeling them. She turns down a quieter side road, slowing down for the home stretch. Behind her, the steam from one of the vents begins to billow out red. The mist snakes towards her, moving faster and more sideways than steam should. The camera follows behind her as the mist creeps closer. The electronica of the soundtrack fades down and merges with an echoing whisper, almost out of the range of hearing…“Buffy”. BUFFY stops, suddenly, and whips round, poised to fight. The steam is flowing white again now, and there’s no one there. Trouble settles on her features, but she carries on walking. CUT TO: EXT. ALLEYWAY, NIGHT On the soundtrack, the orchestral score rises: “fear” music of worried strings and a murky soundscape, echoes of 1940s spy films. We hear heavy breathing as the camera moves fast down the alley. The angle switches and we see ANDREW half-running in the half-light of the streetlamps. He’s wearing a long coat with the collar up. As he nears the end of the alley, he speeds up, til he’s brought up short, colliding with a LARGE DARK FIGURE. He gasps and the camera pulls back to reveal ANDREW face-to-face with a hulking, rough-hewn DEMON with piercing blue eyes. ANDREW swallows, blinking in shock. Then he composes himself in a swaggering pose. ANDREW: Ah, doctor. We meet again. The demon steps closer, breathing in ANDREW’s face, towering and menacing over him. DEMON: [voice like gravel] You think think this is a game, Andrew? WOLF HOWL, BUFFY’S THEME PLAYS Staring: Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy Anne Summers Special Guest Stars: With: Very Special Guest stars: Enter myfic challenge: So I said to myself, "self," I said.... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 02-05-2005, 05:18 AM #2 Join Date: Mar 2003 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT I INT. UNKNOWN ROOM, NIGHT We’re close on Andrew’s face. He’s lying down and he’s crying, quietly and rhythmically, a hint of snot around the nostrils. His eyes are screwed shut and his face turned to one side. ANDREW: No! Please…I can’t…I don’t want to…please… Pull back to reveal Andrew is not, in fact, tied up and being tortured,
but is reclining on a shrink's couch. The DEMON-DOCTOR is sitting across
from him in the smart book-lined room. The DOCTOR: It's ok. We can talk about Warren some other time. The DOCTOR pauses and ANDREW continues to sniffle. The DOCTOR then leans forward and pulls a hanky out of a box on the table and hands it to ANDREW. ANDREW: Thank you. [he blows his nose] These past few weeks have been really screwed up. I don’t like funerals. And…Xander’s been…really mean to me. More mean than he usually is. Like, Reaver mean! Though, Xander doesn’t like Firefly. Mal scares him. I don’t know why. DOCTOR: You talk about Xander a lot. ANDREW: Can’t I just talk about whatever I want? Isn’t that what I’m paying you for? DOCTOR: If we want to make progress, you need to work on yourself. Not Xander. ANDREW huffs and shrugs his shoulders. ANDREW: here’s all this weird stuff under the surface everywhere, and everyone is just, like…waiting for something. It makes me uncomfortable. And no one’s taking the helm to fly us into hyper-space. We should be going after Ethan, guns blazing! DOCTOR: Sometimes it takes time to come to decisions. Especially in a large group. ANDREW: Well, we need a strong leader then! DOCTOR: But you said you didn’t like it when Buffy was…how did you put it…generalissimo Buffy. ANDREW looks impressed and strokes his chin. ANDREW: Ah…Touché! The DOCTOR, inhales, patiently. DOCTOR: I’m not…scoring points off you, Andrew. I’m just trying to understand your feelings. ANDREW hangs his head a little. ANDREW: I just…why won’t anyone tell me what I can do to help make things better? The DOCTOR nods for a moment. DOCTOR: Why do you think anyone should tell you what to do? ANDREW looks incredulously at his therapist, raising his head from the couch again. ANDREW: Because there’s got to be a chain of command, or everything will be madness… He sits up and swings his legs to the ground, banging his hand on the couch for emphasis. ANDREW: Madness! [beat, tilts his head in a thinking posture] Unless you’re a maverick who lives by his own rules...[beat] But I don’t think I’m one of those. [he looks up] Am I? DOCTOR: Everyone can take charge of his own life, Andrew. ANDREW: I don’t know…how. DOCTOR: [leaning forward] Even the most powerful people feel that sometimes.
WILLOW and KENNEDY are sitting side by side in bed. They’re fully dressed, and sitting a way apart, though KENNEDY’s hand is resting against WILLOW’s. KENNEDY moves closer to kiss her and WILLOW closes her eyes while they kiss. KENNEDY takes WILLOW’s face in her hands and begins to melt into it, but a shift in WILLOW’s posture stops her. She kneels back on the bedspread and looks at WILLOW. There’s silence, then WILLOW smiles and takes KENNEDY’s hand, not quite meeting her eyes. WILLOW: So. KENNEDY: “So”? [she moves out of her kneeling position and sits back against the pillows, arms resting on her knees, and looks sideways at WILLOW] That means "time-for-THE-TALK". WILLOW: It really is. KENNEDY: Couldn’t we do this in a bar? We’re risking a whole world of lesbian drama. WILLOW: Well ...get-my-girl-drunk-so-she-fesses-up isn't my style. I just want to know…how you’re feeling. Really. KENNEDY looks WILLOW fully in the eyes now. She holds her girlfriend’s gaze a moment, then inhales, calmly but seriously and: KENNEDY: Really? [long pause] I'd do it again. Put in that situation. I'd still . . . still put that sword right -- right through her. It was the only thing I could…[more firmly] it was the only choice I had. WILLOW: At least it wasn't easy to say it. KENNEDY looks WILLOW in the eyes. Her expression is frank, she’s not hiding or faking. But there’s powerful feeling bubbling under the surface of her solemn face. KENNEDY: These are the kinds of choices a slayer has to make. I accept that. She reaches for a glass of water, that’s on the table beside the bed and takes a sip. WILLOW says nothing, but waits. KENNEDY: I feel…[beat, then angry] WHAT was WRONG with them?! How ...how stupid can you be to -- to just follow someone like that…ETHAN!...blindly? WILLOW: Maybe they were just . . . scared. KENNEDY drains her glass before she answers. KENNEDY: Scared?? No they weren't. Scared is hiding in a corner. They were…believers. Willing, brainless little - PAWNS, 'we'll do anything, just give us a leader to follow! KENNEDY's glass bursts in her hand. She continues the rant with a glance down at her hand, and cupping the remains of the glass with her other hand, while WILLOW reaches for a cloth on the nightstand. KENNEDY: I know you’re beating yourself up about the spell, about what else we could’ve done…but we did it, it’s happened, and I’m not going to start second guessing myself about poor little I-didn't-see-it-coming Slayers. WILLOW: [taking the broken glass in the cloth and putting it to one side] No, they never saw it coming. KENNEDY: [gesturing angrily] Oh, JESUS! [she registers WILLOW’s shock at the volume of her voice and pauses, lowering her voice]…I waited from the time I was EIGHT, knowing what I was, what I could be, waiting, feeling it [beat] Then -- you made my dreams, all, ALL my dreams come true . . . KENNEDY pulls the bloodied cloth from WILLOW's hand and grips it with hers, hard, camera close on her grip. KENNEDY: Without YOU, without the spell . . . I'd be NOTHING. In limbo. Do you understand that? WILLOW's eyes meet KENNEDY's -- equally firm, unyielding. WILLOW: I do . . . and you're wrong. You'd never be nothing. [beat] But that's not the point. KENNEDY [aggressive, a bit desperate]: For ME -- it IS. WILLOW: [a bit sad] But . . . for me . . . for us - - it can't be the point. Don't you see? KENNEDY [tenderly, trying to soften WILLOW]: I see you. WILLOW keeps her eyes on KENNEDY's. WILLOW: No. You don't. If you don't step back . . . take another look . . . if you don't see HER . . . that young woman you took the LIFE from . . . then you don't see me either. KENNEDY's expression changes to hurt and surprise. KENNEDY slowly releases WILLOW's hand. KENNEDY slowly stands, smoothes her pants. She lets out a note or two of nervous laughter. KENNEDY: At the moment . . . I guess I don't.
ANDREW is staring up at the ceiling while the DOCTOR makes a note of something. DOCTOR: Have you ever been in love? ANDREW: Why would I want to fall in love? [rising temper] You only…people only end up leaving you to rot in prison and then come back with pretty promises that turn out to be lies, because they’re actually the representation of ultimate evil…for example. DOCTOR takes this in for a moment. ANDREW: And Xander...he tried to make a life with an ex-demon that he truly loved with all his heart, but the life we lead drove them apart….and Buffy…look where falling in love got her? Nowhere, nohow, and solo, that’s where…Her path is littered with the corpses of doomed and forbidden love! ANDREW fidgets as the DOCTOR waits. When Andrew doesn’t continue, the DOCTOR prompts him. DOCTOR: What you told me last week…that this guy she was seeing is alive…what keeps you from telling her? Why do you care either way? ANDREW crosses his feet on the couch, then fidgets round some more so he’s leaning on his elbow and looking at the doctor ANDREW: It’s like this. She can’t know. How could he come back to her after his heroic sacrifice, with the knowledge that he was noble and wonderful in her eyes for that moment…only to have that cheapened by his…not being dead. The DOCTOR narrows his eyes. DOCTOR: Remember what we talked about. About phrasing your OWN feelings, not projecting. Why is the promise so important to you? ANDREW thinks for a moment, then speaks slowly. ANDREW: I guess…it means…we had a connection. Like, if I could keep that promise then…maybe I’m not just a big joke. [beat] No-one respects me! DOCTOR: Why? ANDREW: [hopefully] Because I’m a murderer? [he looks down, rejecting this thought] DOCTOR: What makes you feel that people don’t respect you? INT. SLAYER CENTRAL, DAY It’s morning, and ANDREW is sitting at the kitchen table reading Sin City with a “World’s greatest teacher” mug at his elbow. BUFFY is in training gear, drinking water. DAWN is also in sports gear and has a glass of orange juice. XANDER is on the sofa, whittling a stake. WILLOW comes in through the front door. WILLOW: Hi. Fun run? DAWN: Oh, yes! We went through the woods in Central Park, and Buffy totally couldn’t keep up….with the speed of light. She flops onto a chair. DAWN: I think my calf muscles fell off half way round. [to WILLOW] Can you make them grow back? WILLOW’s eyes flick to XANDER, and DAWN picks up on the vibe, changing the subject. DAWN gets up and gets more orange juice. DAWN: Is Kennedy up yet? WILLOW: [evasive] Um…yes…up and out. ANDREW looks up from his comic. ANDREW: Hey, are we the watcher’s council now? Cause, if we are, maybe we should look into, like, some bomb detection kit? Or maybe… BUFFY: We’re not the watcher’s council. ANDREW: Because that’s an outmoded hierarchy that’s antipathetic to the causes of sisterhood? BUFFY: [eyebrows up] Before I give an answer, I reserve my right to see my dictionary. ANDREW: Just, shouldn’t we have a name? Or an acronym. We could be the SMP. The Slayer Mentor Programme. Or TASO, the Transatlantic Slayage Organisation…cause, Giles is British and… XANDER: [cuts across, impatiently] How about we start with “why are we still here?” BUFFY: [puzzled at his tone] Is this going to get philosophical? I may need to lie down and have ice. WILLOW looks on with concern as XANDER puts down the stake and turns to them. XANDER: [a little grim] I mean...the Big Apple basecamp? All Sergeant Double-cross’s scheme. And just maybe there’s somewhere full of bigger badder evil that needs slayers more than here? DAWN: What about school? [beat] And I really said that. And cared. WILLOW: Let’s see some nerd pride here! School rocks! [beat] And now I’m feeling nerd shame. XANDER: [bursts out] Yeah, fine, let’s just make jokes instead of DOING anything! BUFFY: [stepping forward, shocked] What…and this is something you’ve never? DAWN: [gently, keeping the peace] Buffy, don’t. XANDER gets up suddenly, pointing at DAWN. XANDER: [anger] I don’t need you to defend me! He walks out the door. DAWN: Wait, what’s WITH you? The door slams. BUFFY: [putting a hand on DAWN’s arm] I’ll go. DAWN: Fine. BUFFY follows XANDER. DAWN moves to the table and picks up a book, flicking through it without concentration. ANDREW looks from Scooby to Scooby, like a lost child. ANDREW: What? What happened? What? WILLOW: [looking at the door] I’m not sure. INT. CORRIDOR, SCOOBY CENTRAL BUFFY grabs XANDER’s arm as he walks off. BUFFY: Xander, you have no right to talk to Dawn like that. Whatever’s eating you, keep it away from my sister. XANDER: [meeting her gaze for a moment] So, I was grouchy to her. [sarcastic] Doesn’t really rank against choosing a world where she doesn’t exist, does it? This silences BUFFY. She stands as XANDER walks away. The camera homes in on BUFFY’s face. As we pull out, we’re in: INT. BALLROOM, NIGHT BUFFY is moving forward, eagerly through a crowded masked ball, wearing
an elegant gown. She has a mask in her hand, and she’s walking purposefully,
looking for someone. A string quartet is playing minuets on a raised dais.
Near the dais, a waiter is pouring champagne over a pile of glasses. We
hear chatter over the music, snatches of Italian, tinkling laughter. The
lighting is soft and romantic. BUFFY: Immy! She reaches out a gloved hand, and we see a man take her hand and kiss it. The camera pulls back to reveal a dark, impossibly handsome stranger, wearing a Zorro-like mask and a tux that fits his muscular body to perfection. He walks round her and pushes her hair gently back, so he can kiss her neck. BUFFY closes her eyes, enraptured. IMMY: [whispers in a velvety Italian accent] Carissima…oh…you are perfect. He pulls away, holding her hands in his. BUFFY gazes into his eyes, an impish grin on her lips. IMMY pulls her to him, wrapping her in a strong embrace, kissing her like Scarlet O Hara and every movie goddess who’s ever been kissed by a dangerous, mysterious lover. As they pull apart, he traces her lips with a finger. IMMY: I would give up immortality for just another night with you, my Carissima. My Buffy. The music rises on the soundtrack – lush strings, far too rich for the quartet on stage inside, rushing up the scale to a peak of romantic orchestral ecstasy, cutting abruptly to silence. CUT TO: INT. SUMMER’s APPARTMENT, DAY DAWN is in the doorway looking incredulously at ANDREW, who’s sitting in an oriental-looking dressing gown on the sofa with LENORE beside him – she’s clearly interrupted him in the middle of talking to the cat. DAWN: [half stern half laughing] Ok, fact-check, Pinocchio… Buffy would NEVER date a sleaze like the Immortal. DAWN stalks close and stands over him, arms folded. ANDREW: [getting up, defiant] It might happen! DAWN: [leaning towards him on the arm of the sofa] And you MIGHT get on 'The Swan' as Andrea. (beat) Which is more likely than Buffy dating the amazing Mr yo-yo pants. And why are you talking to the cat? And the dressing gown? It’s five in the afternoon! ANDREW: I have to make small steps towards the authentic truth. And all great thinkers need special clothes to research in. Sherlock Holmes had that cool hat…I have a dressing gown. DAWN: Ok, I’ll…take a moment to pretend that’s actually an answer. ANDREW: [hurt] I mean, I’m working on telling people the truth, [gestures with his hands, wringing them emotionally] but I need…I need SOMEONE to share my rich inner life with while I’m in a transition period? Nobody said it was going to be easy! DAWN: But no one ever said it would be this hard. Which reminds me, where’s my Coldplay CD? ANDREW: Um…Kennedy took it? DAWN: Yeah, cause she LOVES whiny British guys. And your 12-step truth programme seems to be stuck on minus one. ANDREW huffs. DAWN clicks her fingers for LENORE, who gives her a haughty look, then walks through the sofa and scurries out of the room, through the closed door. DAWN shrugs and sits down on the sofa, so ANDREW sits back down too. DAWN: [quietly] It’s like she knows about Miss Kitty… ANDREW: I still think Buffy and the Immortal would’ve been a way cool couple. Everyone in Rome was saying so. DAWN: Everyone except Buffy, who said and I quote “I’d never date a sleaze like the Immortal.” [tucking her legs under her and feeling for the TV remote] Buffy doesn’t date guys who’ve slept with, say, more than twenty thousand women. She’s picky like that. ANDREW: Ok, but why didn’t she date anyone at all in Italy? Or now? I mean, she could have pretty much any guy…apart from me. I don’t like blonde girls. A whisper of a raised eyebrow from DAWN. ANDREW: [squirming round to face DAWN] Do you think if Spike came back, she’d…you know. DAWN finds the remote and switches the TV on. She flicks through channels. DAWN: [quietly] I don't think we're getting anyone back anymore. ANDREW: Well, we could find a way -- DAWN: Because resurrections are so much fun. DAWN flicks to Fox, a business news broadcast, we hear snatches of stock market prices. ANDREW: Ok, but let’s say, for the sake of intellectual curiosity… DAWN raises her eyebrows at “intellectual”. ANDREW: …if Spike came back… DAWN: Your guess, good as mine. [she gives him a wry glance] Though maybe more with the elaborate soft focus scenarios. ANDREW: Huh! You are a hard-hearted woman. DAWN: That’s right. [she gets up, remembering something] Speaking of, I’ve got a date with Mick. ANDREW: He doesn’t deserve you. Can’t we talk about Buffy’s inability to open her heart to love some more? DAWN: Um…more? Which conversation were you in? [bending down to pick up her bag, then straightening up] Anyway, even if Mick doesn’t deserve me, he’s expecting me. Five minutes ago. Why don’t you brush up on the Dow? ANDREW: I don’t like Buddha. That one hand clapping stuff freaks me out. DAWN: [exasperated] D-O-W Dow. As in Jones? [she nods to the TV and turns the sound up] Learn how to play the stock market. Since, I’m not too sure the army’s going to be paying my college fund, the way things are. We should have someone who knows how to handle finances. Giles is ok, but he doesn’t have the killer instinct. [she starts to walk out] ANDREW: Why not you? DAWN: What?! [beat] Actually…hmm [she walks the rest of the way to the door looking thoughtful] ANDREW: [calling after her] Ok, so what if Angel came back and… But DAWN has already closed the door. ANDREW turns back to the TV and wraps his dressing gown tighter round himself. Suddenly, his eyes widen and he sits rod-straight in the chair. ANDREW: [gasps] Angel!? CUT TO shot of the TV A coiffed brunette WOMAN is reading the business news, with the ticker tape words scrolling across the bottom of the screen: “CEO of multinational law firm dies in building collapse”. Behind the newsreader, a black and white picture of ANGEL, wearing a suit. NEWSREADER: After months of investigation, a spokesman from the renowned law multinational, Wolfram and Hart, reveals that the LA branch’s CEO, known to his colleagues as “Angel”, died in the earthquake tragedy early last year. CUT TO COMMERCIAL Enter myfic challenge: So I said to myself, "self," I said.... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 02-05-2005, 05:23 AM #3 Join Date: Mar 2003 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Enter myfic challenge: So I said to myself, "self," I said.... 02-05-2005, 05:33 AM #4 Join Date: Mar 2003 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT II CUT TO: EXT. OFFICE BUILDING We’re still looking at the TV. A sharp-suited curly-haired man is talking to a reporter. Observant viewers might recognize him as the lawyer from the first scene of CONVICTION (ATS SEASON 5) who wanted to get pictures of ANGEL rescuing a girl. LAWYER: It’s a great loss to the firm. In fact, many of his close colleagues also perished in the tragedy. CUT TO: Andrew’s face, eyes wide. CUT TO: Flash cuts between various characters in Andrew’s first scene in “Damage” – Angel’s brooding face as he interrupts Andrew, Fred sitting at the table, with Andrew’s hands on her shoulders, Wesley’s wounded reaction to “Giles may have been wrong about you”, Spike in the corner of the meeting room, Gunn, and then to Andrew and Spike embracing (or rather, Andrew embracing Spike). CUT BACK TO: ANDREW, leaning forwards to the screen. CUT TO: TV LAWYER: We’re having a charity benefit next month, in memory of all the good work Mr Angel did for the firm, and for the partners… REPORTER: Is it true that Barry Mannilow will be performing… The TV goes blank, and the camera moves round to ANDREW, who’s
holding the remote, hand shaking a little. He throws down the remote dramatically and it smashes on the ground. ANDREW: Oh crap. He gets up and starts to pace, holding his dressing gown closed round him. ANDREW: Ok…Andrew….you know something here…think…what would Buffy do? [he gets to the edge of the room and turns] Buffy would cry…ok, that’s not helpful…this is big…this is mega…this is…[he stops, putting his hand to his face and pondering] But is it TRUE? [he starts to pace again] Perhaps it’s a lie spread by the evil spin doctors of the most devious law firm in the universe? He looks to camera, raising his eyebrow. ANDREW: [theatrically] Hmmm… There’s a miaow from behind the sofa. LENORE is back. ANDREW: [petulant] I WASN’T role-playing, I was just saying hmm! He has a thought and goes to a briefcase on the floor – his, with a large sticker on it saying “Andrew’s secret documents”. He pulls out a black notebook with “underworld contacts” on the cover and starts flipping the pages. He finds the page he wants near the end of the book, and goes to get a pen. INT. STAFFROOM, SLAYER SCHOOL, DAY Assorted Scoobies are gathered round a circular table – KENNEDY, WILLOW, FAITH, BUFFY, GILES. Pens and paper are scattered over the table, but WILLOW has her Apple laptop. They’re mid-way through a meeting. WILLOW: We’re kinda thin on the ground today. BUFFY: [looking at a piece of paper] The excuses are many and varied. I think there may be dog and some homework involved. [smiles] But this is still a serious meeting. Look at all the stationery. WILLOW: [looking at BUFFY instead] Don’t you think we should find Xander. BUFFY: [abrupt] No. [thoughtful] But, what Xander said, about leaving, because there’s nothing in New York? I think he’s wrong. There’s something here that we’re missing. GILES: There certainly are higher levels of demon activity than one might expect in a city without a Hellmouth. Though that might partly be due to New York’s tolerant attitudes towards…difference. BUFFY: Last night…I was on my way back from patrolling, and I…heard something. KENNEDY: Noise, in a big city? Unnatural! GILES looks earnestly at BUFFY. GILES: What do you think it was? BUFFY is about to say “voices”, but shakes her head. BUFFY: Never mind. It’s a thing. I’ll look into it. No point plunging in without…research. GILES looks at her curiously, but KENNEDY leans forward. KENNEDY: What about Cleveland? Who’s going to cover that? FAITH: I can go back… BUFFY: I don’t think that’s a good idea, you’re not…I’d rather you stayed here…for now. FAITH nods, eyes hollow. KENNEDY leans forward. KENNEDY: Or I could go? Take some of the more experienced girls, set up a training ground on the mini-mouth? WILLOW: I don’t think Mickey would like that. WILLOW feels KENNEDY’s hostility and spreads her hands, splaying her fingers in a semi-raised gesture of surrender. KENNEDY: [looking at Buffy] But, about my idea? BUFFY: [reluctant] You haven’t exactly proved yourself lately. After what you did, I can’t [beat] I’m not prepared to let you go off alone. I don’t mean to knock you down, I just… KENNEDY:[gritted teeth but keeping her cool] But it's not just me...what about Chao Ahn? Or Vi? They're ready [beat] and the Cleveland Hellmouth's unguarded. BUFFY: It stayed unguarded long enough. KENNEDY: I thought the whole point was...we changed the world. We can do more now, Better than you did...because we're not alone. BUFFY: So we should stay closer when we're in trouble. WILLOW: Though, Buffy, we're always in trouble. It’s our middle, first, last and special Mormon name. GILES: Perhaps spreading our forces is a good idea? Even in terms of protecting the girls? A more dispersed target IS harder to hit. WILLOW: Target? BUFFY: I’m not sure…I’ll have to think. KENNEDY: So, you’re just going to decide for yourself? KENNEDY scrapes her chair back. KENNEDY: Seems we didn’t change the world that much. We’re still obeying orders. Hm. Sounds familiar. Ethan. WILLOW: [cutting in] Please, Kennedy! KENNEDY walks out. The room is silent for a moment. BUFFY smiles awkwardly. BUFFY: Meeting adjourned--I guess. EXT. NEW YORK STREET, DAY ANDREW is walking quickly along the street, checking numbers on the buildings. He looks up. He’s wearing a long beige coat over a pale shirt and jeans. ANDREW: Son venuto! As ANDREW enters, the camera pans up to reveal the sign above the door: “Willy’s Manhattan Wine Bar”. INT. WILLY’s BAR WILLY is cleaning glasses at the bar, and CLEM is propping up the bar, drinking a long fancy cocktail through a twirly straw and eating very small “chicken” drumsticks. Those special chickens that like to chase birds and often say “miaow”. A few demons of various kinds are enjoying beverages of various hues. There’s a YOUNG MAN in the corner – broad cheekbones, dark clothes, a wicked glint in his eye as he sips his double-o-neg. Vampire, naturally. WILLY: So, I says to the officer, I was BORN in Brooklyn. I love New York, I’m a loyal citizen. [gestures in the air, open hands] These kittens are for personal use! CLEM: So…he bought it? WILLY: Hook, line and more! This place, why did I ever stay in Sunndydale so long? There’s a bang as the door to the bar opens, and ANDREW is standing there, hands on his hips. ANDREW: Question you SHOULD be asking yourself, Willy the Snitch, is why you ever left! WILLY looks at the boy in the doorway, unworried but puzzled. WILLY: Um…because it collapsed? And who in the hell are you? ANDREW thinks for a moment. Then strides up to the bar and slams his hands down. CLEM remembers something. CLEM: Oh! It’s Tucker’s brother! How is Tucker these days? Still breeding those dawgs? ANDREW: [ignoring this] I’m Andrew Wells. Top field operative for the slayer machine. Working on the QT. On the hunt for information. Capische? WILLY: Yeah, right Corleone. A couple of demons, muttering about slayers, put down their drinks and make to leave. WILLY: Guys! Ignore this clown! Everyone after information in this town says he’s friends with the slayer! DEMON ONE: [glumly, but shuffling back to his drink] Aymen to that brother. DEMON TWO: This town just ain’t safe any more. CLEM: [to Willy] This one’s telling the truth. He teachers at that slayer school uptown. WILLY: Yeah? So? ANDREW: I gained some information from a dubious source. Well, Fox news. I need [he rolls this word out, enjoying the sound very much] verification. WILLY: I don’t watch the news. I just like to keep my head down. ANDREW: [slapping the counter, hurting his hand] That’s not good enough! [beat] Ow. WILLY: Search me pal, I haven’t heard ‘bout Angel since he left Sunny D. Very nice exit of his, by the way, gentlemanly. ANDREW: Aha! How did you know I was talking about Angel? [he leans over the bar and grabs WILLY’s shirt, clumsily.] You’re gonna tell me…little man! WILLY steps back and extricates himself with ease, brushing down his shirt. WILLY: You’re not exactly putting the fear of Buffy into me here. ANDREW: [thoughtfully] Buffy…funny you should mention her. [he leans nonchalantly on the counter] Because I’m [beat, smiles] dating her. CLEM: [hurt] She didn’t tell me. [he brightens] But that’s GREAT! And you, not undead! WILLY: [nervous now] Er…look…I know a demon, might be able to help you. [he scribbles down something on a piece of paper] Go to this address. And…kid...please don’t come here again. I only just got my business up and running again, I don’t want to make this a slayer watering hole. My clientele, they won’t like it. ANDREW: I’m not concerned with what your evil patrons want. I just want to know the truth. CLEM: [slapping the bar counter and grinning] You can’t handle the truth! [beat, gesturing to ANDREW to remember] A few good men? Tom Cruise? ANDREW: I get the reference. I just don’t think it’s…appropriate. It undermines my authority as an interrogator. WILLY: [mutters] ‘cause that was through the ROOF before! ANDREW glowers at the two of them and looks at the piece of paper, then sweeps out. The VAMPIRE looks after him, curiously. CLEM: [friendly wave] Say hi to Dawnie for me! WILLY whistles through his teeth. WILLY: I knew we shoulda cloaked this place.
GILES is standing on the stage, in front of a microphone, flanked with GILES: Welcome back. I trust you had a restful break. He stands looking out for a moment. His eyes move down, to take in his audience. GILES: Believe me. This isn’t how I wanted to start a new term. As most of you know, we lost Robin Wood before Christmas. An ally [beat] and a friend. Someone who devoted his life to our cause. He pauses to survey the hall once more. GILES: Perhaps this brings home the reality of the life you have chosen. If any of you wish to leave, we will understand. But if you choose to stay...to fight...then understand this. Death is part of what we do. GILES closes his eyes and bows his head. He runs a hand through his The camera takes in the rest of the hall, and we see he's addressing BUFFY enters from the back of the stage, and GILES turns to her. She smiles. BUFFY: That was peppy. Really. I'm feeling big joy and inspiration. She walks closer to him. GILES gestures to the hall. GILES: What do you think I should say to them? We can’t wrap them up in cotton wool if they’re going to continue here. BUFFY: You could do the British and politely not mention it? [she GILES: [softening] Going on in quiet desperation IS the English way. [explains] Pink Floyd. BUFFY: Good. You’re now only one century behind and catchin’
up fast. GILES: I wouldn’t recommend it. I’ve overheard a number of the students compare your speeches to some of the more obscure forms of Japanese water torture. [he grins as BUFFY scowls] Welcome to my world. It’s the price of authority you see, mockery. BUFFY: I could cut your pay you know. GILES’s expression fades to serious. GILES: Buffy…Your efforts earlier were -- admirable. BUFFY: Unless that’s Long-lish for they blew, I won’t nod. GILES: We can’t do things by committee. I for one certainly don’t want all this to turn into another bureaucratic nightmare. YOU need to make some decisions. What do you want to do about Riley? And Ethan? Coward he may be, but there’s no guarantee he won’t return. BUFFY: It’s all still so fresh. BUFFY looks up at him, sadness in her eyes. BUFFY: I’ll think about it. All of it. But we’re not staring some super-duper-natural evil in the face. It’s just men. [thinks] And Sam. At the moment, I’m more worried about us. INT. NIGHT CLUB, ANDREW is walking down a curving flight of spot-lit stairs. We hear the sounds of applause as he rounds a corner at the bottom of the stairs into club itself, which is lined with plush red curtains. On the floor of the club are lots of small tables, with a mixed audience of humans and demons. A COMPERE is on stage – a small man in a black polo neck and jacket – and an act has just left the stage. ANDREW stands at the back of the club, not knowing where to put himself. A blue demon turns round to look at him, but turns back to the stage. Andrew goes to the bar. COMPERE: Now, ever since the Lady took her final bow, this town’s been crying out for a REAL act…an act to make your timbers shiver and your soul sing…provided you’ve got one…and ladies and gentlemen, fresh from the city of Angels…I give you…though he needs no introduction….Freddie Krev! Applause as the camera moves to ANDREW, who’s drinking a bottle of beer. He gulps some beer and keeps his eyes on the stage as FREDDIE KREV --A.K.A LORNE -- enters. He’s wearing a shiny sleek black suit, and a little black kohl around the eyes, setting off his horns beautifully. The audience cheers him onto stage as he takes the mic from the compere. LORNE: Hello New York! [pauses, taking the applause, but low-key] You know, sometimes, when you’re feeling blue, you just gotta wear black. But don’t ever let them grind you down. Don’t let them beat you. And never look back… LORNE brings the mic closer to his lips. The band starts up with “Je ne regrette rien”. LORNE: Non ! Rien de rien... LORNE starts to walk across the stage. His stare is intense, and the performance more self contained than we’re used to see with him. LORNE:Ni le bien qu'on m'a fait He holds out his hand at this point, sweeping across the audience. As the band plays on, he switches to speech, coming to the front of the stage and looking up into the lights, which throw his strong features into moody relief. LORNE: Maybe some of you in the audience have regrets. Maybe you’ve got secrets. Maybe you’ve taken the wrong path. He looks down, his red eyes scanning the front rows, though not making eye contact. LORNE: Or just maybe, you’ve never put a foot wrong, never broken a promise, or a heart, or a code…but then, girls and boys… He pauses, and looks to the back of the crowd. Maybe he sees ANDREW, maybe he doesn’t. LORNE: If that was true…you wouldn’t be here, would you? He gives an open-palmed gesture to the band, who bring up the volume for the next chorus. LORNE: But… Non ! Rien de rien... He raises his arms for the final moment. Je me fous du passé!
ANDREW is knocking on a door marked “Artist”. He has his coat over his arm, and is holding his drink in that hand, awkwardly. O.S LORNE: Entrez! ANDREW enters the room – a dressing room, with various suits in dark chic cuts and colours hanging up. LORNE is taking off makeup. He clocks ANDREW in the mirror and spins round on his chair. LORNE: Hi kid, hope you enjoyed the show, but aren’t you a little young to be....wait...ANDREW?? What happened to the tweed? That was a good look for you! ANDREW: You think so....[shakes off his vanity] but, I'm not here to talk about clothes! LORNE: Shame...the current look is really halfway house. Less a look, more of a existential crisis. ANDREW puts his hand on his shirt and glances down at his ensemble, but then speaks firmly. ANDREW: I want to know about Angel. LORNE: So, Buffy sent her cub reporter to get the inside scoop...verify the sources [he looks intently at Andrew] Only she didn't send you did she? She doesn't know. Sheesh...the forces of light really are NOT pumping the juice through the information grapevine. ANDREW: But is it true? Is he -- dead. LORNE: I'm the wrong demon to ask. I'm way out of the Championes game. ANDREW moves to LORNE and slams his beer down on the dressing table. Some spills out, and LORNE leans back out of the way. LORNE: Easy on the fixtures! ANDREW: You were working for him at double yew and aitch, you must know what went down. I'm not leaving til you tell me. I know interrogation techniques. LORNE: Don’t you just? [beat] Well then, Mr Bond...know this...Angel's out of the picture. His contract’s up. That particular soul man's hung up his coat and left the building. ANDREW: He's dead? LORNE: [shrugs] Wasn't he always? ANDREW: What about…what about the others? LORNE: By which you mean Spike? Isn’t he just the fanboy favourite! ANDREW waits expectantly. LORNE waves a dismissive hand, his lips kept tight and his eyes narrow. LORNE: No idea. Probably dust in the wind beneath the Senior Partners wings. Not my problemo, and not yours either. But, hey, I'm sure the sisters are doing it for themselves with pizzazz! [he looks at Andrew] So, whatever happened to crazy Jane? ANDREW: You mean Dana? That’s our business. But she's safe. We're...helping her. LORNE: I don't think that little minx'll ever be out of the woods. She's way down deep...And you...I bet you're giving a shrink somewhere the ride of his life. Your aura, just screaming out for a good tumble on the couch. ANDREW: How do you know I'm seeing a shrink? LORNE sits back in his chair. LORNE: Honey, this is New York. I could count the people who AREN'T on one perfectly manicured hand. But...how about letting me in? Few bars for an intimate audience? I can't help you with LA scene...but maybe I can set you on your path. Because, that's what you're really here about, isn't it? ANDREW: I don't understand. LORNE: And doesn't that just sum up the human condition in a single pithy sentence. Sing me...oh, go wild. Whatever you like. ANDREW's eyes flit up for inspiration, and he licks his lips, decides, nods to himself, then begins, hands behind his back like a schoolboy. He sings nervously at first, but in tune. ANDREW: Everybody’s talkin’ at me. He closes his eyes as he sings and brings up his hands, putting a finger in one ear. P..people stoppin’ starin’ He opens his eyes, and takes a deep breath, opening his mouth for more, then stopping, mind blanking out. ANDREW: That’s all I remember. My…someone used to sing it to me. The camera moves to LORNE, who gives him a little round of applause and a bright smile. Then the smile fades. LORNE: So, you finally got what you wanted. You’re one of the gang. But, the gang’s not all you thought. LORNE looks at ANDREW more closely then takes off a cufflink. He holds it up. LORNE: Present from a fan. [beat] But, seeing your heroes up close, they don’t always look so good. [LORNE coc’ks his head] Maybe it’s time to stop watching? ANDREW: [holding his hands together, then gesticulating] See, we don’t exactly HAVE a watcher stroke slayer set-up any more, it’s more collaborative… LORNE: Not what I’m talking about blondie. It’s about taking part. ANDREW: I take part. I teach…and I was totally all over the slayer-collecting gig…and did you hear about me giving Angel the full on Dirty Harry. Make my day, vamp! LORNE smiles, throwing up his hands. LORNE: You know, if there was a Pullitzer for off-topic? [he touches his nose and points at ANDREW] ANDREW: Sorry…um…you were saying? LORNE: As all the stars who know their flowering onions have said… ANDREW’s mouth drops open. ANDREW: You…you know! You read my soul! LORNE smiles and takes off the other cufflink. He puts the cufflinks side-by-side on the dresser. LORNE: You’ve got to believe in yourself, kid. LORNE swivels his chair back to the mirror, and carries on with taking off his makeup. ANDREW is about to say something, when LORNE swivels back. LORNE: Oh…and…get LAID already! ANDREW hovers for a moment. LORNE: We’re done here. I’m on again in ten. Feel free to stay for the rest of the show. ANDREW: But…I still don’t know what to do. Should I tell Buffy? Or…what shall I do? Get…laid…now? That doesn’t seem…[he tails off, looking forlorn and helpless, then irritable] This is lame! You’re supposed to set me on my path, you said. LORNE licks his lips and holds ANDREW’s gaze for a moment. LORNE: Your path? Out that door. And what happens next…not up to me. LORNE turns back to his mirror, with a finality in his movements. ANDREW waits for a moment, then looks at the floor, sighs, and turns to the door. INT. CORRIDOR OUTSIDE LORNE’S ROOM ANDREW stands still and thinks, pushing his hands into his coat pockets and leaning against the wall. ANDREW: So…he stands alone…he fights alone…he’s a man without direction in a world of a million choices… INT. LORNE’s ROOM LORNE pours himself a drink from the decanter on his dressing table and sips it while staring into the glass. He raises the glass. LORNE: Here’s to you big guy. Wherever that soul of yours is brooding. [he pauses and drinks, then holds up the glass again] And to you… But he can’t finish the toast. He closes his eyes and puts the drink down. He looks at the drink for a long moment.
ANDREW is walking slowly, head full of thoughts. The street is busy, but no one gives him a second glance, despite the fact that he’s muttering to himself. ANDREW: Time to stop watching…time to believe in myself…get laid already…[he double takes and carries on in a more comfortable channel]…time to carve my destiny out of the raw materials of a cruel, uncaring univ… We hear a scream, and ANDREW stands for a moment. The passers by pretend not to hear it. ANDREW has a mini panic, then runs towards the sound, down a side alley. A tall skinny VAMP is attacking a young Chinese MAN. ANDREW, still running, fumbles for his stake, trips on his coat, falling over himself and the VAMP, dropping his comic but somehow managing to untangle the stake and shove it into the VAMP’s chest. The vamp dusts and ANDREW is lying on top of the young MAN. ANDREW leaps up like he’s been bitten on the ass. ANDREW: Sorry… MAN: [getting up slowly] You saved me! ANDREW blinks, then grins, but then replaces that with a moody stare
into the middle distance. He pulls himself up to his full height. Which,
while not tall, is a little taller than the man. MAN is a styled but casually
denim-dressed and spiky haired hottie. This is PATRICK. ANDREW lifts his
chin and puffs out his chest. MAN: [amazed] How did you do that? ANDREW: It’s…um…[firmer] It’s what I do. You should…go home now. MAN: Actually, I’m feeling kinda shaky…could I buy you a drink? ANDREW is still dazed by what just happened. He shakes his head and turns away. Cogs are whirring in his mind and he looks up to the night sky. He smoothes down his coat. ANDREW: No…I’ve done my part. He starts to walk away. ANDREW: [almost to himself] I helped the helpless. He speeds up, without looking back. The MAN notices something on the floor and leans down to pick it up, but ANDREW has already rounded the corner. MAN: Hey…you left your…comic book. The MAN looks down at the comic, shaking his head, in fact, still shaking all over. We pan round to the other end of the alley. The VAMPIRE from Willy’s bar is looking on. He smiles. EXT. ROOF, SCOOBY CENTRAL, NIGHT ANDREW is standing alone looking out over the city. It’s a moonlit night and his face has a look of quiet resolve. He nods to himself. The camera focuses in on his face. Then begins to pan out over the city. V.O ANDREW: There is a moment in every man’s life when he must make a choice. He must choose his destiny, step up and be counted. [pause] Angel is gone. Spike…who knows what may have become of that brave and chiselled hero. So, the world needs a new hero. Who will this champion be? Who is willing to lay down his – or her – life in the name of a greater good? The camera moves back to ANDREW, who leans on the parapet, his eyes in the distance. V.O ANDREW: I cannot be a slayer of the vampyrs. For I am not a woman. He pulls himself up, standing tall, and speaks. ANDREW: But I will take the ring. Though I do not know the way. [he looks down at himself] After I get some new clothes. CUT TO COMMERCIAL Enter myfic challenge: So I said to myself, "self," I said.... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 02-05-2005, 05:44 AM #5 Join Date: Mar 2003 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT III EXT. MANHATTAN STREET, NIGHT The street is almost empty, apart from the odd down-and-out. We’re in the centre of the financial district, and even the most obsessive bankers and traders have gone home by now. Except one. A man in a suit comes running around a corner, glancing behind him. BUFFY and FAITH run round the corner after him. BUFFY throws a stake and it spins and bites home, getting him in the back. He poofs and BUFFY gets her balance, smiles. BUFFY: I liquidated HIS assets! The girls stop for a moment, panting, FAITH leans her hands on her knees and whistles. FAITH: Man, these streets are LONG! BUFFY: You need to quit smoking. FAITH: Girl has to have some pleasures. BUFFY’s smile fades. They start walking back in the direction they came, stakes in hand. Both girls look thoughtful. FAITH: So. Why the sudden bonding patrol? BUFFY turns to FAITH. BUFFY: I know this might be a big thing to ask at the moment, but… FAITH: What’s the job? BUFFY: It’s Kennedy. FAITH: [little smile] You want me to rub her out? BUFFY smiles and tries a little playful bat of FAITH’s arm. FAITH doesn’t receive it warmly. She doesn’t shrug her off either, but there’s enough frosty for BUFFY to back off. BUFFY: Oh, you know…only sometimes. FAITH: Let me guess. You want me to give her a talk, murderer-to-murderer? BUFFY: No…I…no…I..[she shrugs]…maybe? FAITH: S’cool. But, can’t bet she’ll take it well. She doesn’t see it as murder, it was battle, heat of the fight. BUFFY: That’s the problem. She’s not really seeing…[she stiffens and stops FAITH] What was that? FAITH looks around, stake up and ready, and the girls go back-to-back. FAITH: [low] I didn’t hear anything, B. BUFFY: There was… We hear a distant voice say “Slayer”. BUFFY starts but FAITH
doesn’t respond. BUFFY: There! She runs to the nearest drain cover, FAITH looking on nonplussed. FAITH: Wait, B…what is it? BUFFY: That mist…there’s something down here. BUFFY stiffens, hearing the voice again. BUFFY: It said my name! All spooky and whispery. [beat] Hello? Evil invisible monster? BUFFY pulls off the drain cover with frantic energy and leaps down. FAITH runs to the edge of the hole, but doesn’t leap after her. She pauses on the edge, then jumps in after. INT. SEWER It’s completely black and dark, apart from the light from above which falls in a circle. FAITH lands in the circle of light. BUFFY is standing in the dark, trying not to breathe audibly. FAITH glances sideways at her. BUFFY is looking round in the dark, freaked. FAITH: There’s nothing here. It’s late, I’m beat. Let’s go. FAITH jumps up and pulls herself out of the sewer. BUFFY remains a moment longer. EXT. NEW YORK STREET, NIGHT ANDREW is walking down a crowded street, fully of late-night shoppers. He stops at a shop - “Broadway leather” – and goes in. We stay outside the shop and pan across the street. OZ is standing there, his arm in a sling, looking after ANDREW. OZ: Weird time to shop. OZ half-shrugs and continues on his way, weaving through the people. Close up on OZ, his face has a battered look, though his bruises are
fading. He stops for a moment as he passes an alleyway, then turns down
there. He walks slowly down the narrow alley, across virgin snow, unmelted
where the sun hasn’t been. OZ: Lara? INT. GILES’ OFFICE, SLAYER SCHOOL, NIGHT GILES is about to get up from his desk by the window, where he’s sitting, but stops to pick up the phone as it rings. GILES: Hullo, Rupert Giles. [he listens for a moment, starting to look harassed] No, I AM sorry, registration is full for this term. [beat, impressed] Yes, that IS a generous offer. FAITH enters, and GILES points to the phone, but indicates that she take a seat. He knits his brow as he listens to the caller. GILES: But we already have a library. [his face relaxes into a mischievous
smile] GILES puts the phone down, happily and gets up. GILES: Works like a bloody charm. Thank heaven for bleeding hearts. FAITH: Who was that? GILES: A parent eager to sign her daughter up for the most prestigious language college in the state. Seems the word of mouth about Joyce Memorial College is impressive. If wildly inaccurate. FAITH: Right… GILES: So, what can I do for you? FAITH sits down in a chair. Her posture is closed, unlike her usual leg-sprawling confidence. She rubs her elbows. FAITH: Could start by turning the thermostat up. But…it’s B. We were patrolling, saw this…red mist, coming out of the drain covers. GILES: [interested] Red? FAITH: I figured it might be some pest control deal. But B flipped out…said she heard something…then she jumped down into the sewers. When I got down there, there was nothing. Just…the usual dank none too fresh-smelling dripping tunnels. But she kept saying she heard something….a voice. I thought…you should know. GILES nods. GILES: Thank you. We move through the window into the grounds. EXT. SCHOOL GROUNDS, NIGHT V.O ANDREW: I wanna help her. [beat] I wanna…become someone. INT. BOHO APARTMENT, NIGHT OZ: Good to be back? When LARA speaks, her voice has a raspy, Noo Joisy husk to it. LARA: Oh yeah. The wild places call to my soul, and the monks sing to the spiritual vibe, but – the bathrooms are better back here in the Apple. [smiles] In the house of understanding that wasn’t so very seventh level. Remember when I failed external harmony for the forty-fifth time? OZ nods, looking around the apartment. It is incredibly non-minimalist, if very clean. For some reason the toaster and electric kettle are on a low table near Lara, instead of in the kitchen area. The meditation area is surrounded by icons of every religion known to man, woman and everything in between, including an illuminated Virgin Mary, Elvis, Kali and one of those hula dolls that sways its hips and plays music. The room of an iconography slut. LARA: I looked up Master Tenzin’s comments after. Not words to use in polite Tibetan society. OZ: Yeah. But the monks have to practice unconditional love. He didn’t mean it. LARA laughs. Her strange eyes warm and become human and the hotness levels rocket. She has a very strong physical presence. OZ smiles - something only WILLOW and LARA produce in him. LARA: I should've asked which dimensional reality you mean by back ... OZ: This is me. LARA: No double meanings or layers of crap? [cheeky grin that leaves
her eyes serious] Or no imagination? OZ: Still into keeping your options open. LARA: [narrow, difficult gaze] It’s good to see you, Dan, but you look like one of your guitars - tuned too tight and then somebody smashed you over the amps. OZ sips his tea then puts the cup and saucer down on the floor and leans back, tucking his legs under him so he’s sitting cross-legged in the arm chair. He picks the tea up again and balances it on the arm. OZ: Things have been rough. OZ: You don’t get over Willow. (beat) But it’s not that. LARA: Then…? Bankruptcy? The election? ‘Cause, right with you there honey … OZ shakes his head. OZ: I killed someone. [long pause] I never did that before. LARA: Oh. [even longer pause] This is not so much a tea moment. LARA gets up quickly, gracefully, and pulls down a bottle of vodka from the shelf and pours out two glasses. OZ sits silent, staring ahead. LARA passes him a glass. LARA: I've never known anyone with your control over the wolf, Oz ... OZ: Except you. LARA: ... so what happened? Look, I could talk a transcendental streak but…to the simple. [beat] Are you alright? They...take a piece out of you too? [indicates his arm again] OZ: No, that’s a gunshot wound. [thinks] Not my first actually. OZ: Pale one. LARA: [quieter] How did you lose control enough to kill? OZ: It wasn't about control. [pauses, gathering his thoughts and reaching up absently to scratch LENORE'S head] Some girls decided to become werewolves...used me to do it. But, werewolf wasn’t the first step. They were already slayers. It wasn't pretty. LARA: (frowns) Re-supering the already super … I can see the overkill…What happened? OZ: Instant teen wolf. The ECT remake. LARA: [nods, leaving it at that] So, why is it I can see through your cat? OZ: This is Lenore. [almost a smile] She’s my ex-girlfriend’s familiar. LARA reaches out her hand and LENORE looks at her, cat-ly blank. LARA: A few points of order…why the translucence…and why isn’t she with Willow…not so familiar for a familiar. OZ takes in the cat for a moment. OZ: I can't figure out if she's stalking me because Willow asked her to or if she's just worried about me. [pets her] LARA: And the see-through? OZ: She’s dead. LARA: My condolences. LENORE meows and flops onto OZ's lap and starts purring. LARA: Or not. They sit in the moment, silent. Then LARA leans forward. LARA: So…do you need to be worried about? INT. SCHOOL BASEMENT The lighting is noir-ish and moody. ANDREW is still wearing his leather coat. He may or may not have eyeliner on…perhaps it’s just the shadows? He’s looking up at a pipe in the ceiling. He lifts his hands to do a pull-up. V.O ANDREW: I’m not ready yet. Too many years of comfortable living and… He can’t even manage one and gives up with a sigh. V.O ANDREW: Not doing pull ups. He hurriedly delves into his pockets and pulls out a packet of cigarettes to salvage his cool. He lights one with a heavy Zippo lighter and starts smoking. Coughs, but carries on smoking. V.O ANDREW: Too many years livin’ the soft life. Pretending it’s not down to me. It’s not my responsibility. [beat] But I’m not ready yet. ANDREW leans against the basement wall, smoking thoughtfully. He coughs again. He looks at the cigarette. ANDREW: These are supposed to be lights! Then we blend to him doing other exercises in: INT. SLAYER TRAINING ROOM, NIGHT. ANDREW is stripped to the waist, wearing martial arts-style pants. V.O ANDREW: I have to be ready for whatever evil comes next. He fights an imaginary enemy with a broadsword. V.O ANDREW: Whatever form it takes. ANDREW is throwing knives at a big target board, on which is drawn a big circle with a question mark, labelled “Evil”. ANDREW: There are heroes in this world whose power lies in their hearts and minds. In the human world of warmth. CUT TO: close-up of XANDER, laughing. We pan down and round to see he’s in a bubble-filled bath with ANYA and panning round to reveal…GILES. They’re all having a fight with the bubbles. GILES has a pierced nipple. CUT BACK TO ANDREW, SLAYER TRAINING ROOM Close-up on ANDREW, looking shocked. CUT TO: ANDREW attacking a punch bag with gusto, still shirtless. V.O ANDREW: But I…choose not to be one of them. I’m an outsider. Born to be alone… He is interrupted by RONA, who pokes her head round the door. RONA: Hey, Andrew, Giles is shutting up in ten. [she raises an eyebrow] And why are you getting’ naked? Close-up on ANDREW, looking more pissed off than broody. He picks up a knife and throws it at the target. He actually gets a bullseye, and looks proudly for a response from the slayer, but RONA has already gone. ANDREW scowls again. Then he shivers, clearly freezing his cojones off. ANDREW: [hint of whine] Ok, this is probably not so uncomfortable when you have no body temperature. EXT. BROADWAY, NIGHT ANDREW is brooding along the road, his coat spreading out behind him. He’s nearing the Scooby building, but stops opposite. FAITH is smoking outside before going in. ANDREW watches her with a masculine gaze. V.O ANDREW: She looks so sad. [in one breath] So full of pain and loneliness that no one can understand except those who too also dwell in the dark place of remorse. And guilt. And [lamely] darkness. INT. SEWERS, NIGHT ANDREW and FAITH are standing opposite one another. Both are wearing leather pants and a lot of black. The atmosphere is tense with passion. FAITH holds out her hands imploringly. FAITH: Please, Andrew. We can seek redemption together. ANDREW steps back and turns his face away. Then he moves towards her and reaches up to touch her face with his hands. ANDREW: No, slayer. We can’t. We shouldn’t. We mustn’t. V.O ANDREW: I cannot give her comfort. I have a job to do. INT, ANDREW’S BEDROOM ANDREW is getting dressed, buttoning a black shirt. He straps ratcheted stakes onto his wrists over the shirt. Then decides it doesn’t look right and unbuttons the cuffs, re-buttoning them so they cover the straps attaching the stakes to his arms. Then he puts on The Coat. He looks in the mirror. Badass! V.O ANDREW: I’m ready. It’s time. EXT. ROOF, NIGHT ANDREW is looking out at the city from the roof of a brownstone building. He surveys the city. V.O ANDREW: So many people in danger for their lives in these mean streets. Who is there for them? He looks down and sees DEBBIE, the middle-aged slayer, running after a vampire. She’s wearing an unfortunate spandex outfit, her matronly bosom wobbling as she runs. She’s also wearing a cape. She stakes the vampire and dusts off her hands, satisfied. V.O ANDREW: Who apart from her? He looks down again, and sees three slayers patrolling. V.O ANDREW: Ok, and them. CUT TO: An angry-looking LADY sticks her head out of the window of an opposite apartment building, looking up at ANDREW. LADY: Hey! You can’t be up there! It’s against regulations. I’ll call the police! We’re back on ANDREW, who smoothes his irritated frown back into a moody stare into the middle distance. ANDREW: The midnight hour. Time to save lives. [he yawns] Maybe I should take some pro-plus.
The camera moves through the well-dressed young crowd dancing to some
dirty electro. Think Blade, with an even hipper, New York vibe. We’re
seeing from someone’s point of view, scanning the crowd. They find
what we’re looking for – Camera moves round to show the stalker. It’s the handsome VAMPIRE from Willy’s wine bar and the alleyway. On closer inspection, he has a timeless Jimmy Dean look. His expression shows a leader of the pack and he’s wearing a white t-shirt under a short leather jacket. He smiles and we home in on his yellow eyes as he starts to walk forward again. Camera’s on ANDREW as he jumps, realising the YOUNG MAN is at his side. He’s offering ANDREW a shot of something. MAN: I’m David. You thirsty? [he looks at ANDREW with a glint in his eye] I know I am. ANDREW: [innocently] But you don’t have a drink. MAN: No. I don’t. [offers the drink again] ANDREW takes the drink and knocks it back. He shivers as the liquor sears down his throat. Then he looks DAVID in the eye and moves into a fighting stance, arms up. ANDREW: I know what you are…vampire. And today’s the day you die. Again. He makes to attack but DAVID catches his wrists and puts them up against the wall. ANDREW: Ow, let go…buttwipe! DAVID: Smooth. Andrew. [he pushes harder on ANDREW’s wrists. No-one in the bar seems to notice or care. Perhaps they think the guys are dating…and kinky] ANDREW: Ow…how do you know my name? Why do evil people always know stuff? DAVID: So [he leans closer] Angelus is dead, then. ANDREW: Angel. [beat] What? Like that? Why do you know that? DAVID: Television. It has this universal vibe going for it. DAVID releases ANDREW’s wrists, roughly. ANDREW rubs them as DAVID steps back. DAVID: I saw you rescue that kid last night. You got lucky. ANDREW: I’m a highly trained fighter! But there’s doubt in ANDREW’s voice. DAVID smiles, with pleasure and malice in his eyes, and looks ANDREW up and down. DAVID: You won’t last long helping the helpless. DAVID turns and walks away. He stops to beckon ANDREW a few paces away. ANDREW hesitates. But he can’t resist. EXT. ALLEY, NIGHT ANDREW is walking a step or two behind DAVID. We can still hear music from the bar, with the buzz of traffic as background. DAVID turns, suddenly, making ANDREW jump. DAVID smiles. ANDREW waits a moment, then pulls out his cigarettes. He offers one to DAVID, nervously. DAVID takes one with a cool nod. ANDREW: Do they let you smoke inside in demon bars? DAVID ignores the question, lights up and looks thoughtfully up at the sky. DAVID: So, you’re dating the slayer…a slayer. ANDREW: Um…yes. Yes I am. She’s the light of my life. Fire of my soul. Buffita! DAVID: [conversationally, but watchful for ANDREW’s reactions] I’ve never tasted the blood of a slayer. ANDREW: [on familiar ground] I hear it tastes like nickels. [off DAVID’s dubious look] It tastes strong. [beat] Um…why am I talking to you and not sending you back to the hell from which you…should go to? The punch comes out of nowhere, and suddenly ANDREW is on the floor,
looking up at DAVID, in vamp face. ANDREW closes his eyes as DAVID leans
forward. But instead of biting, DAVID leaps up and pulls ANDREW to his
feet, slamming him against the wall. He strokes his nail down ANDREW’s
cheek, drawing blood. DAVID throws him on the ground. ANDREW looks up with panic in his eyes. ANDREW: Please…don’t. DAVID stands over him, arms by his sides, yellow eyes blazing. DAVID: Shut up. I’m here to help you. [he morphs back into human face] I just needed to show you -- how weak you are. DAVID pauses and steps back, looking intently at ANDREW, then bends down and helps the boy up, grasping him firmly by the wrist, then pushing him away as he scrabbles to his feet. They’re facing off against each other. All traces of posed cool are gone from ANDREW. He’s white as the vampire in front of him and visibly shaking. ANDREW: Help me? Why do you want to help me? You’re evil. DAVID looks at him and steps forward, ANDREW backs towards the wall. DAVID: You think Angel was the only vampire with a soul? ANDREW: No, Spike had one. Beat, as ANDREW gets it. ANDREW: You! You have a soul! DAVID: [sad smile] Vampires should NEVER holiday in Romania. ANDREW: Gypsies…no, wait that’s offensive…travellers? Or Romany? DAVID pulls out a glass orb from his jacket. DAVID: Do you know what this is? ANDREW: Omigod! The orb! The orb of…Cecily? DAVID: Thesulah. You know what it can do. He throws the orb to ANDREW. DAVID: And I can do the rest. ANDREW looks puzzled, but then his face clears in realisation. ANDREW: I could…take Angel’s place. Or maybe I’m more of a Spike, if he’s… But I don’t think I have the cheekbones. And I don’t think he’s dead. DAVID steps closer. DAVID: You’re just playing at heroes now. It’s time to put away childish things. [he puts a hand on ANDREW’s arm] Think of what you could do. CUT TO: ANDREW in an alley taking on four vampires at once, sending one crashing into the wall with a flying kick while staking another. V.O DAVID: Think of the strength. CUT TO: ANDREW lifting a car off a trapped woman, throwing it away like a feather. CUT TO: ANDREW in another alley, looking up into the night sky. A dragon swoops down and ANDREW slices off its head mid-flight. CUT TO: reality ANDREW: [musing] A vampire with a soul. A champion. DAVID: You’d never grow old. CUT TO: ANDREW in an OAP home, pushing an ancient lady in a wheelchair. ANDREW: It’s time for your bath, Dawn. CUT TO: Andrew’s face. He looks at the orb. Then up at DAVID, who is looking at him, a little too hungry, a little too eager. ANDREW: Wait. He slaps his forehead. ANDREW: This is…BULLSHIT! He throws the orb to the ground and it smashes loudly into tiny pieces. DAVID: [with a shrug] Worth a try. His face morphs into its vampire form, his already-yellow eyes brightening to their demonic colour. He’s on ANDREW in a second, holding him in a vice-like grip, face up against ANDREW’s. DAVID: I would’ve liked Buffy’s boyfriend to be my willing minion. [he whispers in ANDREW’s ear] Now I’m just going to kill you. We focus in on his bright inhuman eyes as he bites into ANDREW’s neck CUT TO COMMERCIAL: Enter myfic challenge: So I said to myself, "self," I said.... -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 02-05-2005, 05:45 AM #6 Join Date: Mar 2003 --------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Enter myfic challenge: So I said to myself, "self," I said.... 02-05-2005, 05:52 AM #7 Join Date: Mar 2003 -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ACT IV EXT. ALLEYWAY, NIGHT Close up on ANDREW, with DAVID’s fangs clamped to his throat. ANDREW’s face is twisted in pain. But then we see DAVID’s shocked vamp-face. He’s registering what’s happened. He gasps and staggers backwards. DAVID: Sire…warned me…always check the…sleeves. He dusts. ANDREW retracts his ratcheted stakes into his sleeves, composed for a moment. ANDREW: [gasping] I’m not Buffy’s boyfriend. I’m gay. Then he staggers backwards to the wall, clutching his neck. He slides down the wall, his leather coat rubbing and rucking up against the bricks. He leans over his knees, his head in his arms. Then he raises his head. He’s panting, eyes scrunched and confused. ANDREW: I’m gay? FLASH to: Warren’s face in soft-focus.
He gets slowly to his feet and looks over his shoulder at the back of his coat. It’s scuffed and dirty. He takes it off, wincing and checking the wound on his neck. Then he walks off down the alley with the coat over his arm. INT. SLAYER CENTRAL, DAY ANDREW is asleep on the couch, The Coat over him as a blanket. He’s pale, with a band-aid on his neck. It’s morning. There’s a bang of a door, and he starts up. ANDREW shakes his head and rubs his eyes and sits up, looking all around him. One side of his face is badly bruised and slightly swollen. He moves to the window, disorientated. As he looks at the street, he sees FAITH leaving the building. EXT. CEMETARY, DAY The mid-morning sun is shining brightly as FAITH is walking slowly between the graves. It’s a pretty cemetery, with trees and flowers. We hear the crunch of her boots on the gravel and the sound of birds. CUT TO: FAITH’s teary face against a duller sky, with late afternoon, almost-dark winter light. We pull back a little to reveal the Scoobies, dressed in black and grouped close around a grave. FAITH is standing beside XANDER, who is looking straight at a plainly-dressed MINISTER. The MINISTER is speaking, but we can’t hear him. The camera pulls further back to show the SCOOBIES are not alone. A group of maybe 100-150 young women and some boys are standing round. CUT TO: FAITH, back in the present, walking through the cemetery, crunching down the path until she reaches a fresh grave, scattered all over with floral tributes. The camera shows the headstone. ROBIN WOOD The camera moves across to an older grave, next to Wood’s. NIKKI WOOD
FAITH suddenly looks up, her eyes puffy. ANDREW is standing there, a scarf round his neck against the January cold, and perhaps to cover his undead hickie. FAITH is looking up incredulously at ANDREW. FAITH: What happened to you? And you…followed me here? ANDREW looks apologetic. ANDREW: I have a day off. [beat] Can I sit? I have a blister and I’m…kind of tired. FAITH gestures to sit, not quite believing the whole him-being-there thing. ANDREW: I didn’t follow you. I was -- patrolling. FAITH: Yeah? In the day. With no stakes. Where I am? ANDREW: Ok, but, molto points to me that you didn’t hear me coming. FAITH: I was crying. Kinda blocks out other noise. ANDREW: Oh. There’s a long pause. ANDREW: I like that you can tell me things like that. FAITH: Well…it’s not like you’re some tough I have to prove myself to. ANDREW: These hands have killed a man. [he looks down at his hands] A very small man. And vampires. FAITH: You know, this has gotta rank as one of the most whacked out conversations I’ve had. ANDREW: You mean, talking about murder by the grave of your dead lover? FAITH’s eyes widen and you can’t tell if she’s going to hit him or crumble. ANDREW realises what he’s just said must’ve sounded like. ANDREW: I mean…I’m sorry. [looks at his feet] I didn’t think. FAITH sags and stares at the gravel just in front of her feet. FAITH: It shouldn’t have gone down like this. All he wanted was to do the right thing. Quietly. No heroics. Maybe…all I wanted too. ANDREW: But…you ARE a hero, Faith. FAITH: [strained laugh] Ya think? Where was I when Ethan -- ANDREW: You did your best! FAITH: Then my best is nothing. It’s worth jack-all. ANDREW: You shouldn’t take…what Xander said seriously. He didn’t…mean it. FAITH: Are you his personal psychic now? Or just his cheerleader? This strikes deep and ANDREW recoils with a puzzled frown of hurt. ANDREW: That’s not fair. FAITH gets up, makes a brusque gesture towards the grave. FAITH: You want to know fair? Fair got buried right on that spot, six feet under. Life could’ve been so sweet. But, seems that’s not the plan…for me. ANDREW: I don’t think there is a plan. They both sit and stand in tense silence. FAITH makes to walk away, but changes her mind and sits. ANDREW: Have you and Xander talked. Since you, you know, stripped each other's psychic flesh off the very bone. FAITH:[terse] What's a veribone? [she shakes her head and leans back in the chair] ANDREW: Have you? Talked to him? FAITH: Not since. It's up to him. But I think he's said his piece. ANDREW: Maybe if I asked him... FAITH: Then maybe he'd punch your face. Don't go there Andrew. It's not your problem. They lapse into silence again. ANDREW pipes up. ANDREW: I’m gay. FAITH: Figured. Another silence. ANDREW: I almost got killed last night. [he points to his neck] Vampire. He wanted turn me into his evil spawn and feast together on the blood of slayers. FAITH: [nods] So, typical night? ANDREW: I didn’t know you were funny. FAITH: Guess the quipping rubs off if you’re around Buffy long enough. INT. BATHROOM, SLAYER SCHOOL, DAY BUFFY is washing her hands and looking in the mirror. She hasn’t slept well and her eyes have dark rings. WILLOW enters. WILLOW: Oh, hey. [joining BUFFY at the sinks and looking in the mirror too, noticing her mood] I miss the multi-purpose mirrors in Sunnydale. Both a reflective surface AND a conduit for scary hallucinations. [looking closer] You’d think, twenty four years and double figures of apocalypses, I’d be past the zit phase. And yet, here’s a beauty. Must be all the Ziti… BUFFY: [smiles] And I see what you did there. [segueing to gloomy] I was just looking into the face of failed leadership. BUFFY turns round and leans against the sinks. WILLOW leans next to her, a pep-squad expression on her face. WILLOW: Right. So, things aren’t… BUFFY: You saw Xander. And the meeting. It’s a mess. WILLOW: But, I’ll bet Kofi Annan feels like this all the time. BUFFY: Is he the one with the bumpy head in Star Wars? [beat] Kidding. I know all about Kofi. I’ve been reading all these books about how to govern, how to deal with power, how to have the habits of seven highly effective people or whatever. But when it comes down to it-- WILLOW: You’re not ready to let go? BUFFY: I’m not sure I trust-- people enough to let them do things their way. WILLOW: The whole spy deal wasn’t exactly a trust-building exercise. But, by people…you mean Kennedy? BUFFY: Not just. It’s…we’ve handed out this power, but I want to make sure the girls know how to use it before I just unleash them on the world. And with the people out there, people like Ethan. I don’t want to unleash the world on them, either. I want to keep them safe. WILLOW: You don’t have to be momma bear. They HAVE moms you know. BUFFY: But their moms can't teach them what they need to know. WILLOW: Maybe...but they need to learn some for themselves too. And learn it in practice, not just in the gym, fighting evil foam padding monsters. BUFFY: I don't know. I suppose, I've waited so long for...to have someone to pass on...slayer stuff to...I can't help it. I just want to impart my wisdom...and maybe I'm imparting it down their throats? Knowing how to step back is hard. WILLOW: Oh, I don’t know. My mom was pretty good at the stepping back. Stepping back so far she fell into the next county. And I don’t think we’ve this much conversation since we moved here. You know, Elvis was way wrong. And I’m not just talking about his menu choices. A little more conversation and a little less action is all good. BUFFY: Uh huh huh. And a little bit of huh? [she smiles, then takes a towel and starts to dry her hands slowly] Willow…do you really think the girls are ready? The older ones I mean? To…go out, find all the evil nooks and crannies of the world? WILLOW: Yes. Yes, I do. [beat] Only…don’t send Kennedy. BUFFY: You’d miss her? WILLOW: No. I--don’t think she’s one of the ready ones. WILLOW looks intently at BUFFY, then moves her eyes away. WILLOW: She’s very young. I mean, only a few years younger than us. But [shakes her head] She just joined a club that I know is not as fun as girl scouts. BUFFY: And girl scouts isn’t even fun. Stupid cookies. WILLOW: I need her here, with me. I’ve tried talking to her, but I’m not getting through. BUFFY: I asked Faith if she’d try. With the getting through. [beat] Like Kennedy said – even if she said it in a way that made me want to send her to bed without any supper. We don’t have to do the alone thing. Starting tonight. Fun outing to the Shadow Lounge. That’s an order. [beat] That probably wasn’t funny. WILLOW: It’s ok. I’ll try and be there. But, time to skidaddle. Important meeting. INT. DARK ROOM WILLOW is sitting cross-legged in an empty room in a circle of candles. Her eyes are closed and her hands on her knees, deep in meditation. WILLOW’s shadow is thrown out large and long, over and over around the walls. V.O WILLOW: Althenea. I’m here. [beat] She’s fine. [beat] And I always forget I can’t hide anything from you. CUT TO: INT. BAR, NIGHT The music is cheesy disco style. We’re close in on BUFFY. BUFFY: I can’t believe it. She’s stood me up for a hot date inside her own brain. I’m sure that breaks the friendship code on many levels. We pull back to show BUFFY’s at a table with FAITH, CLAUDIA, XANDER, DAWN and KENNEDY. XANDER’s watching the dance floor, turned slightly away. CLAUDIA: Where did Andrew get to? He really has of late lost all his mirth. [sips her vodka and orange]Where’d he sneak off to? DAWN: Why, do you lurrrve him? [beat] That came from a place of deep immaturity. CLAUDIA: [thoughtful] I don’t know, I think he’s rather attractive. But I suspect he’s not dancing at my end of the ballroom. Not that I shan’t give it a pop. BUFFY: Thinking we’ve none of us seen him dance in any ballrooms [off their look] - as in never seeing Andrew dance. In-a-club sort of dancing? INT. DARK ROOM, NIGHT WILLOW is still and quiet. She purses her lips as she listens. We move round her, taking in the shadows that are dancing as the candles flicker. There must be a breeze coming from somewhere. V.O WILLOW: She’s been talking in her sleep. Silence as we’re alone with WILLOW and her shadows and she’s hearing ALTHENEA. V.O WILLOW: Now. [beat] Please? Show me what you saw. CUT TO: INT. BAR, NIGHT We’re on a balcony looking down at BUFFY’s table. We see ANDREW’s back as he leans on the rail. V.O ANDREW: They chatter and laugh ... CUT TO: BUFFY’s table, generally lacking in anything approaching V.O ANDREW: I am the Death Star caught in orbit around their - warmth. I must stay here on - the balcony - or drag them into my darkness. [voice drops] Come and join me in my darkness. [Long pause] ANDREW: [shaking himself to reality] Think I’ll go and join them. CUT TO: BUFFY’s table, with ANDREW approaching. ANDREW: Hi. So - anyone wanna dance? Faith, you like to dance? Don’t you? FAITH: [looking up from the drink cupped between her hands, surprised] You askin’? ANDREW: [exasperated] No. I mean – let’s dance - as a group? CLAUDIA: I’m game. ANDREW: [mishearing] What? CLAUDIA: [holding out a hand] It would be a pleasure, sir. BUFFY: Yeah. Let’s go nuts. Me too. [pause] Faith? Confused, FAITH drains her drink and joins BUFFY, ANDREW and CLAUDIA on the dance floor. They gather in a circle and, without much enthusiasm, pick up the beat. Within a minute or two, the track finishes. They wait in the pause. CLAUDIA sidles to ANDREW giving him some flirty eyebrow. FAITH: Bit different from the last time, eh, B. Seem to remember one of us was shining bright and the other - on her way to the dark side. BUFFY: Well, now you’re back from…and please don’t let the next track be I will survive, or the DJ will NOT. FAITH: That’s dark. Guess we’ve met in the middle. ANDREW: [moving away from Claudia] Shiny! FAITH straightens up and when the music starts again, starts putting more into it. She and BUFFY start dancing off each other. The music’s moved away from cheesy, and the track is a good hot-wired to the hindbrain number. CLAUDIA faces ANDREW as the nearest male substitute, though she’s lost any hope of action. She gets into it. FAITH and BUFFY are smirking at each other, beginning to loosen up. CLAUDIA suddenly realises ANDREW is matching her perfectly. He is a good dancer, not showy but moving easily, right in the beat. Camera pans to XANDER still at the table, holding an empty beer. XANDER: This is fun. CUT TO: EXT. SCOOBY CENTRAL CLAUDIA and ANDREW are standing at the door, just arrived home, tired but happy. CLAUDIA: Well, that was a lovely evening, I really…[she suddenly spins round, pulling a stake out of her bag] ANDREW, with slower reactions, copies her. But has no stake, so brings up his hands in a karate pose. They’re looking at PATRICK, the man that ANDREW saved. He’s holding ANDREW’s comic. PATRICK: [shocked] Hi. [he holds out the comic] It had your address in. I was passing. And I thought it would be fun to get attacked by Charlie’s Angels bringing it back to you. CLAUDIA looks him up and down, realises there’s no threat. CLAUDIA: I’m an Angel am I? Very flattering. [blows a kiss to Andrew] and goodnight [she unlocks the door and goes in with a little wave]. ANDREW takes the comic as CLAUDIA shuts the door. His eyes flick round the empty streets, then back to PATRICK, who’s got his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans. ANDREW smiles. ANDREW: It’s so quiet out here. PATRICK: Everyone been talking at you all night? ANDREW: [he holds the comic close to his chest, rocking on his heels awkwardly. He nods at the comic] Thanks. PATRICK: Wrong way round. You saved my life. I think that means-- Before he can finish, ANDREW grabs him and kisses him. PATRICK’s eyes flick wide open with surprise, but then he goes with it. ANDREW suddenly pulls away for a second, puts the comic down carefully, then continues. CUT TO: INT. BEDROOM, NIGHT ANDREW and PATRICK are lying together on a bed in a student apartment. Film posters on the wall, a cello propped up in the corner. PATRICK is lying there blissfully asleep, arms thrown out languidly, his legs entwined with the also deeply asleep ANDREW. A storm begins to whip up outside. Suddenly, ANDREW sits up with a gasp, clutching his chest and panting, the curtains billow and the wind whips and his eyes go wide with fear as his breath comes fast and terrified. ANDREW: [panicked whisper] My soul! Then he double-takes, still hand to his chest. Then smiles in relief. ANDREW: Oh. [beat] Indigestion. He takes a deep breath, calming himself down, then he looks at PATRICK, who’s stirring in his sleep but not waking. The sound of the rain is steady now outside. ANDREW gets up and closes the window in his boxer shorts. He looks out at the city for a moment. Then he comes back to bed. He snuggles down and PATRICK makes a little noise and reaches out for him, half asleep. One the soundtrack, a verse of David Bowie’s HEROES starts up and plays through the rest of the scene. I
PATRICK smiles and opens his eyes. ANDREW looks at him, seriously, then takes his face in his hands and kisses PATRICK. Not a movie kiss, not Heathcliff and Cathy, but an eager, hopeful kiss.
INT. BLACK SPACE WILLOW is standing alone, looking out onto total darkness. For a moment, a patch of light and shadow moves past her in the black. Her head jerks, trying to follow the movement. The camera moves in on her. WILLOW: Angel? CREDITS Very very special guest star:
|