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Fool For Love (September 28, 2000) Written by: Douglas Petrie |
| Teaser |
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EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT Our story starts where many have before: in the middle of a big ol' GRAVEYARD FIGHT. BUFFY exchanges punches with a typically nasty-looking VAMPIRE. The only outstanding feature he's sporting is a long, shaggy mane of unkempt HAIR.
You know, it's probably none of my business, but I just gotta ask: He swings, she ducks.
Did you smell this bad when you were alive? She spins, kicks him in the head. He staggers back, up against a headstone.
If it's a post-mortem thing, then hey. So not your fault, and boy is my face red. But just so you know... He tries to hit her. She blocks it. Punches him so hard he flips back over the headstone, landing hard in the dirt.
The fast-growing field of personal grooming's come a long way since you became a vampire. Buffy STAKES HIM - almost. He sidesteps, spins, grabs her arm, twists, and suddenly brings Buffy's arm down upon her, and, using her own stake, held in her own hand, the vamp STABS Buffy. Shocked, she sees that she is impaled deep, through the side, under the ribs. BLACK OUT.
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| Act One |
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EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT Exactly where we left off. Buffy in shock, stabbed. She manages to PUSH the Vampire away. She looks down at herself. There's a STAKE sticking out of her. She PULLS IT OUT. Not without a small cry of pain.
Aah! The Vampire is back on her. She RUNS. It's not easy. She looks back behind her. The Vamp's gone. She looks ahead. And he's standing right in front of her, deadly intent in his eyes.
You going? Buffy backs up fast. The Vampire advances...
But, you were having so much fun a minute ago. Buffy's backed up against a tomb wall. Nowhere to go. The Vamp LUNGES - when suddenly, a BLUR flashes past, tackling the Vamp hard. It's RILEY. He brings the Vamp down on the ground but can't hold him. Riley reaches for a taser from his belt. The Vamp hits Riley backhand, sending him sprawling. Riley whips the taser up and ready to fire - but the Vamp vaults over a tombstone and disappears off into the night. Riley rushes to Buffy. Holds her.
What happened? Buffy takes her hand away from her wound, showing Riley. Then collapses in his arms. INT. BUFFY'S BEDROOM - DAY Riley finishes applying medical tape to a square patch of white gauze at Buffy's midsection. Cotton balls and a bottle of medicinal alcohol lie on the bedside table. Buffy's t-shirt's rolled up from below.
I can't believe I passed out. Do you think I'm a total wuss now?
(sarcastic) Oh yeah. I like a girl who can play a few hard sets of tennis with a major stab wound.
You said it wasn't that bad.
I said I've seen worse. There's a difference.
No major organs got kebabed.
I still think you need to see a real doctor.
That would put me in a real hospital, which would get my real Mom real freaked. Can't do it.
If our positions were reversed...
I'd call you world-class butthead then make you go. Don't worry. Accelerated healing powers come with the Slayer package. She starts to roll her shirt down over the bandage.
And the boyfriend who comes complete with combat medical training? That's the Buffy Summers bonus.
So tell me about the bad guy. Or, guys. What do you think they were?
Vampire
How many?
One.
So, what, he was like some kind of Super Vampire or something?
I think he was just the regular kind. Extra stinky, if that's any help. Oh, and he had this very eighties, Van Halen-y hair band 'do.
That's scary.
But outside that, he was just your plain old, run of the mill, average undead guy. He just beat me.
That ever happen before?
I'm in the best physical shape of my life. If you're asking me how it happened, I don't... DAWN bursts in without knocking. Sees Buffy rolling her shirt down over the wound.
Dawn.
Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt the sex-capades. I just wanted to tell you... JOYCE enters, also without knocking.
...Mom's coming.
Hi, Riley.
Mrs. Summers. How are you feeling?
Fine. Bordering on chipper. And tomorrow, I'm planning to be obnoxious.
Glad to hear it.
Buffy, when you get a minute, I want to go over the grocery list for next week, and there's some things I need picked up at the gallery.
Sure, Mom.
No rush. She starts to go, stops.
Are you disinfecting something?
Hmm? Joyce indicates the medical supplies.
Oh, um...
Mine. She swabs some alcohol on cotton, rubs her fingernails.
Some nail polish experiments are doomed before they even begin.
(to Dawn) But you keep pushing the envelope, honey. (to Buffy) See you in a few?
You got it. Joyce leaves. Beat. Dawn turns to Buffy.
Did I just pull off a Slayer- related Mom cover-up thing? Riley and Buffy look at each other. Dawn knows she did.
Come on. Who's the man?
You are. A short, annoying man. If I show you something, promise not to tell? Dawn crosses her heart. Buffy lifts her shirt just enough for Dawn to see the bandage dressing.
Oh, cool. I mean, gross. I mean, both. Are you all red and squishy under there?
Very. Mom can't know. Think you can help with the household stuff?
That's it? I cover your butt and then you dump your chores on me?
Dawn...
I got it, you're covered, we're good. (examines wound) Lucky it's not bikini season.
So. Dawn takes household duty. I'll pick up tonight's patrol.
By yourself?
It's just a sweep.
Do me a favor? Take the gang along with.
I'll be okay.
No question. But, knowing you're out there with full Scooby backup would ease the mind of your poor, injured girlfriend.
You forgot "manipulative."
I really didn't.
Okay. I'll patrol tonight with the group.
When do I get to patrol?
Not until you're never. EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT A graveyard, in the dark of night. Riley enters frame, dressed in cool black civilian clothes. He moves with stealth and confidence, in and out of shadow. He stops. Looks around. Silently raises a fist in the air and tugs it down, twice. A hand signal to move forward. He advances out of frame. Followed by WILLOW, XANDER, and ANYA. They saunter into frame, all of them dressed in INCREDIBLY LOUD CLOTHING. Xander's got the Hawaiian shirt going, Willow's in a brightly-colored hat. Anti-Stealth Wear. Xander's loudly munching from a bag of chips.
(whispering) What's with the hand move? You see that? Does that like, mean something?
(whispering) Oh, he's just trying to look important. She takes the bag of chips from Xander.
(whispering) It's code. I think it breaks down to "Choo-choo."
(whispering) That doesn't sound right.
(whispering) It probably means to follow him. That, or wait here for him.
(whispering) Ask.
(YELLING) HEY! Riley! What's the... (hand gestures) ...all about? Riley, five paces up ahead, sighs.
It means yell real loud so the vampires who don't know we're coming will have a sporting chance.
(to Willow) See? Now you made him all mad and sarcastic.
You're the one who's doing all the yelling, Mr. Stealthy-pants.
It's their fault.
Um, guys? I'm thinking we could cover more ground if we split up. Tell you what: I'll cover the cemeteries - you take the Bronze.
Are we not being covert enough?
We're sorry.
Sorry!
We'll get sneakier. Promise.
Just... ditch the chips, watch my back.
Done. Willow grabs a handful of chips and shoves as many as she can in her mouth, crunching loudly as she sets the bag aside. Riley heads off. Willow and Xander follow, crunching... Riley sighs and moves forward.
You know what he's like? He's like a cat. You know, a big jungle cat. How come I'm not like that? It's just so cool...
(mouth full) I think you're cool... They head off. INT. THE MAGIC BOX - NIGHT The Magic Box is closed for the night. But far from empty. We pan across the counter, littered with books of varying ages and thickness, all open. Giles adds another one to the pile, still studying it as he does so. Buffy studies a thick book under a single lamp light. She looks grimly determined.
Here's another one. Early eighteenth century Slayer... Buffy closes the book she's perusing, frustrated.
Good. Let's hope she'll be more helpful than this one.
Why? What does it say?
Same as all the others. Slayer called, blah, blah, blah, scary battles, blah, blah, blah, great protector, blah, blah, bl- oops, she's dead. Where are the details?
(helpfully) This slayer forged her own weapons.
Gotta love a gal with an anvil. (then) But where are the details of the Slayer's last battle? What made that fight special? Why did she lose?
You didn't lose last night, Buffy - you just...
(grim) Got really close. I slipped up, Giles. I've been training harder than ever and still... (re: books) And there's nothing in any of these to help me understand why. I mean, I know every Slayer comes with an expiration mark on the package - but I want mine to be a long time from now. Like a Cheeto... If there were just a few good descriptions of what took other slayers out, I might be able to understand my mistake. Keep it from happening again. This whole subject is making Giles distinctly uncomfortable.
Yes, well, the problem is that after the final battle, it's hard to get any... The slayer's not... She's rather-
It's okay to use the D-word, Giles.
Dead. And hence - not forthcoming.
(thinks/then) Why didn't the Watchers give fuller accounts of it? The journals just stop...
I suppose, if they were anything like me, previous Watchers just found the topic too...
Unseemly? Damn. Love ya, but you Watchers are such prigs sometimes.
(simply) Painful. I was going to say. This stops Buffy. A moment passes between them. Then Giles forges ahead, not wanting to linger on that topic.
But you're right. Accounts of final battles would be helpful - and now there's no one left to tell the tales. Beat. Buffy's expression shifts with realization. Giles sees it.
What? INT. SPIKE'S CRYPT - NIGHT We see SPIKE - WHAM! Get slammed down onto the slab in his crypt. Buffy's the one who slammed him there.
Ow! Wait. Not ow. You feeling all right, Slayer? That stuff usually hurts...
Don't even start, Spike.
What do you --
Slayers. You killed two of them.
(wary, is this payback?) I did. She lets him up.
You're gonna show me how. And off Buffy's look of fierce determination we BLACKOUT.
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| Act Two |
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INT. THE BRONZE - NIGHT We see Spike, sitting with Buffy, finishing a beer.
You know, there's quite a few American beers that are highly underrated. He puts the mug down.
This unfortunately is not one of them.
Update, Spike: we're not here to discuss the fine choice of hops. She holds out a rolled-up wad of money.
It's about two Slayers. One in China during the Boxer Rebellion. One in New York. Both got killed... Spike reaches for the money - too late. Buffy whips it back.
By you. Tell the tale, you get the cash.
Right. You want to learn all about how I bested the Slayers, and you want to learn fast. All right then: We fought, I won, the end, pay up.
You know that's not what I...
(interrupting) What did you want? Eh? A quick demo? Blow-for-blow description you can map out and memorize? Pfah. It's not about the moves, Love. And since I agreed to your little proposition, we're going to do this my way. Wings.
What?
Spicy buffalo wings. Order me up a plate, I'm feeling peckish. Buffy glares. Then, sighing, she raises one arm to flag a waitress. And flinches. Keen-eyed Spike notices.
As I thought. Some nasty thing got a taste of you. Buffy recoils at the phrase. Sits straight.
Don't get excited. I'm fine.
Right, stuck in a dark corner with the creature you loathe, digging up past uglies. 'Cause you're "fine." He puts his feet up.
Just tell me what I want to know.
I told you, no one's narrating on an empty stomach here...
Were you born this big a pain in the ass?
What can I tell you, baby? I've always been bad. INT. ENGLISH DRAWING ROOM - 1880 - NIGHT We cut to a high-society drawing room of the late nineteenth century. Young people mingle and politely flirt. SUBTITLE: LONDON, 1880 We pan across the crowd to find, sitting alone and staring longingly out the window, young WILLIAM. Spike before he was Spike. The biggest sissy imaginable. Chewing thoughtfully on the end of a pen, mumbling...
"Lu-mi-nous..." no, no, uh, "irra-di-ant..." better... A BUTLER holds out a tray of hors d'oevres. William stirs from his reverie.
Quickly, I'm the very spirit of vexation. What's another word for "illuminate?" It's perfectly perfect as many words go but the bother is nothing rhymes, you see. Perplexed, the butler just forces a smile and finds someone else to serve. Spike looks across staring across the room, transfixed. We see his P.O.V.: A strikingly beautiful young woman (CECILY ADDAMS) has just entered the room. She is instantly surrounded by a small cluster of dashing male suitors.
(under his breath) Cecily. Struck by the inspiration he was searching for, Spike pulls a small notebook from his jacket pocket and begins to write quickly, feverishly. As he's writing, he looks up to see Cecily join a small cluster of partygoers. Spike smiles, gets up and joins the crowd, holding his newly-finished poem in hand. Tries to enter the circle.
...I've heard on good authority they're not human at all. Animals of some sort. Escaped from a traveling sideshow.
But wild animals would leave a trace of some kind. Tracks...
Mangled bodies...
Charles! Don't be ghastly. I merely point out that it's something of a mystery, and the police should keep an open mind. Spike makes his way into the crowd. The Male Partygoer turns to him.
Ah, William. Favor us with your opinion. What do you make of this rash of disappearances sweeping our town? Animals - or thieves? All eyes turn to Spike
I prefer not to think of such dark, ugly business at all. That's what police are for. He eyes Cecily shyly. She averts her gaze. Could she be flirting?
I prefer placing my energies into creating things of beauty.
I see. Well. Don't withhold, William. He snatches the paper from Spike's hand.
Rescue us from a dreary topic.
Careful! Spike almost stands up for himself. But one glare from the large and imposing host, and Spike backs down.
Ink's still wet. Please, it's not finished...
Don't be shy. (reading) "My heart expands 'tis grown a bulge in't inspired by your beauty effulgent." Effulgent? Beat. Followed by the tittering of polite laughter. Spike's face crumbles. He bears the pain of it, but sees Cecily, upset, pull away from the crowd. He follows. The voices continue, low, behind him.
And that's actually one of his better compositions.
Have you heard, they call him "William the Bloody" because of his bloody awful poetry.
It suits him. I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff... Spike follows Cecily, humiliated - but intent on not letting this moment pass.
Cecily...
Leave me alone.
They're vulgarians. Can't you see? They're not like you and I.
You and I? She turns to face him directly. Close. Intimate.
I'm going to ask you a very personal question, and I demand an honest answer. Do you understand? He nods. The big dope, he's still hoping.
Your poetry. It's, they're not written about me... Are they? She steals a quick look back to the group watching her.
They're about how I feel.
Yes, but are they about me? Spike steels himself - makes a decision.
Every syllable.
Oh, God... She turns away from him. Spike scoots around to face her, making his desperate, impassioned plea:
I know... This is sudden. And - and, please, if they're no good, they're only words. But the feeling behind them... I love you, Cecily.
Please stop.
I know I'm a bad poet. But I'm a good man. All I ask is that you try to see me... He looks in her eyes, begging for a chance he feels he's earned. She looks back, sincerely.
I do see you. He holds his breath. Hope! She continues:
That's the problem. You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me. Spike takes this in as she exits. He is quiet, trying to contain his pain EXT. ENGLISH STREET - 1880 - NIGHT Without his hat and coat, William tears down the street. Hot tears streak down his face. He rips up his poem as he stalks out the building and down the street, blinded by rage and humiliation. He BUMPS into a GROUP of three people. A man and two women.
Bloody... watch where you're going! He continues down the street, ripping up the paper into smaller and smaller bits. ANGLE ON: A dark section of street beneath a gas lamp. Spike's overcome with fatigue and humiliation. He rips the paper into smaller and smaller bits until he can rip no more. And slowly, all the rage drains out of him. A soothing, understanding voice comes from nowhere:
And here I wonder... Embarrassed, Spike whirls to see who it is. DRUSILLA. Dressed for the times. Looking at him with total love and understanding.
What possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger... She reaches out, gingerly wipes the last remaining tear from his face.
...To tears?
Nothing. I wish to be alone.
You've been alone too long.
What could you possibly know of me?
I've seen you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength. His vision. His glory. That, and burning baby fish swimming all 'round your head. What? Spike eyes this crazy Victorian chick suspiciously as she steps closer, curiously examining him like a cat eyeing a new breed of mouse. Her lips part...
Th-that's quite close enough. I've heard tales of London pickpockets. You'll not get my purse, I tell you.
Don't need a purse. Your wealth lies here. (touching his heart) And here. (touches his head) In the spirit and imagination. You walk in worlds the others can't begin to imagine. He's flabbergasted. Hypnotized. How could she know? She steps closer. Her face near his. He's not used to this. He squirms, but can't move.
Yes... I mean, no. I mean - Mother's expecting me. She leans closer, whispering in his ear.
I see what you want. Something glowing, and glistening. Something effulgent. Do you want it?
I - yes! God, yes! She smiles. VAMP-FACES. And BITES deeps in his neck. Spike rears his head back, new sensations coursing through him. He closes his eyes, feeling ecstasy... then some pain.
Ow. Ow! OW! Ow ow ow ow OW-WOO! Drusilla keeps feeding, sucking on the young poet's neck, pinning him upright against the post, lit by the single light from above. Draining him, sucking him... EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT Riley scans the terrain, trying to ignore Willow, Xander and Anya's conversation going on behind him.
Wow. So they really work for you?
Well technically, they work for the construction company. But they are my crew. I tell them what to do, and they very often do it.
Except sometimes they do it wrong and he gets to be all stern, but fair. It's so damn cute.
Guys. They scramble forward to see what he's seeing.
Whatcha got?
That's him. Riley's P.O.V.: The STABBING VAMP who got Buffy heads for a tomb.
Let's go. ANGLE ON: Another section of the graveyard. Riley and the others watch the vampire enter a TOMB. We hear the sounds of several voices talking loudly. Riley motions for the others to stay put. Sneaks forward, peers into a small side window or tomb. RILEY'S P.O.V.: Through the small dirty window, we see the Vampire and his gang of FOUR OTHERS. Riley steps back. Thinks a moment. Returns to the group.
Sounds like a party in there.
Forget about crashing. There's too many of them.
Got a plan?
We're leaving.
I like this plan.
We'll come back at daybreak when they're asleep and we're better armed. It's okay. We can kill 'em just as dead in the morning. And without another word, Riley walks away. The others follow. INT. THE BRONZE - NIGHT Close-up of the corner pocket of the pool table as - POCK! - the seven ball gets shot sharply into it. Buffy and Spike are playing pool. Spike lines up his next shot.
Nine in the side. He shoots. Sinks it. Keeps moving. Sticks a cigarette in his mouth as he moves.
So you traded up on the food chain. Then what?
Nah, please, don't make it sound like something you'd flip past on the Discovery Channel. Becoming a vampire is a profound and powerful experience. I could feel this new strength coursing through me. Getting killed made me fill really alive for the very first time. I was through living by society's rules. Decided to make a few of my own. 'Course, in order to do that... He strikes a white-tip match off the pool table, lights the cigarette, savoring the first puff, and grins at Buffy through a cloud of exhaled smoke.
(through smoke) I had to get myself a gang. INT. MINING SHAFT - 1888 - NIGHT P.O.V. shot - scary one, too. ANGEL - flanked by DARLA and DRUSILLA, is holding us by the throat. Deadly pissed off. Calm. SUBTITLE: YORKSHIRE, 1888
Perhaps it's my advancing years that make me so forgetful, William. Remind me: Reverse angel: Spike, gripped by the throat, stands pressed u p against the wall of a dank mining shaft.
Why don't we kill you?
(choking) ...Ike...
What's that? Angel let's go. Spike grabs his windpipe, catches his breath.
It's "Spike" now. You'd do well to remember it, mate.
I'm not your "mate." And when did you start talking like that?
(to Spike) We barely got out of London alive, because of you. Everywhere we go, it's the same story. And now...
...You've got me and my women hiding in the luxury of a mine shaft - all because William the Bloody likes attention. This is not a reputation we need.
I'm sorry, did I sully our good name? We're vampires.
All the more reason to use a certain amount of finesse.
Bollocks! That stuff's for the frilly cuffs and collars crowd. I'll take a good brawl any day.
And every time you do, we become the hunted. Darla and Drusilla watch.
(sing-song) I think the boys are going to fi-ight.
The King of Cups expects a picnic, but this is not his birthday.
(what?) Good... point. Spike and Angel are in each other's faces:
Yeah, know what I prefer to being hunted? Getting caught.
That's brilliant strategy. Really, pure cunning.
Sod off. When's the last time you unleashed it? All out fighting a mob, back to the wall, nothing but fists and fangs? Don't you ever get tired of fights you know you're gonna win?
No. A real kill, a good kill - it takes an artistry. Without that, we're just animals.
Poofter. Angel shoves him. Spikes shoves him back, hard. Angel breaks a PICKAXE handle in two, splitting it in his hands. Presses the sharp wooden end up against Spike's chest.
Now you're getting it! Spike LAUGHS. Angel stops.
You can't keep this up forever. If I can't teach you, maybe someday an angry crowd will. That, or the Slayer. Beat. Spike reacts with genuine curiosity:
What's a Slayer? INT. THE BRONZE - NIGHT Spike continues playing pool. As he talks, Spike slowly walks around the table as if lining up a shot. But he's positioning himself behind Buffy...
After that, I was obsessed. I mean, to most vampires, the Slayer was this object of cold sweat and frightened whispers. But I never hid. Hell, I sought her out. I mean, if you're looking for fun, there's Death, there's Glory, and sod all else, right? (shrugs) I was young.
So how'd you kill her? Spike, just behind her, hisses in her ear.
Funny you should ask. He SLAPS a hand around Buffy's throat, from behind. Lightning-fast, Buffy grabs a pool cue. Spike grabs her wrist. She whirls to face him.
Lesson the first: a Slayer must always reach for a weapon. Reverse angel: Spike is in VAMPFACE.
I've already got mine. He morphs back into his human face. Smiles. Gently takes Buffy's pool cue from her and backs off.
Good thing, too. Become a vampire, there's nothing to fear. Nothing but one girl. That's you, honey. Back then... He shoots.
...It was her. INT. BUDDHIST TEMPLE - CHINA 1900 - NIGHT We are in a BUDDHIST TEMPLE. We hear a PUNCH and Spike comes staggering back into frame, supporting a bloody nose. Before he can regain his footing a SWORD comes slicing into frame, just nicking the top of his eyebrow, cutting it open (the eyebrow where he's got a scar today). He looks scared. SUBTITLE: CHINA, 1900 We see Spike is locked in combat with a CHINESE SLAYER. She doesn't talk much - she just kicks ass. Spike manages to knock the sword from her hand. No problem. She just switches to hand-to-hand mode. She kicks and punches him across the room. They are lit by the flames of a fire burning just outside. Also from outside come the sounds of SCREAMING and GUNFIRE.
Just like I pictured. This good for you? She responds by kicking him in the head. Spike hits the ground. The Slayer pulls a stake from behind her back and leaps on Spike, straddling him. He's pinned. She pulls the stake back for the killing blow when - BLAM! - something smashes through the window, distracting them for one split-second. She brings the stake whistling down to Spike's chest - but he rolls out of the way just in time. Spike backhand-punches her off him. He leaps to his feet and they square off. Spike fights with renewed energy. The sound of gunfire grows outside. The red-hot flames burn brighter, filling the room with a blood-red color. The Slayer kicks and punches Spike backward, toward the window. Her intensity grows as the beating heats up. Spike takes it, getting pushed further and further back toward the window, his image growing darker, the flames growing hotter. Finally Spike is back against the window. Nowhere to go. The Slayer is just about to finish him off when (echoing his advice to Buffy) Spike manages to KNOCK THE STAKE from her hand. The slayer falters - starts to DIVE FOR IT, but Spike catches her and grabs her into a sudden, deadly embrace. He SINKS HIS TEETH INTO HER NECK. OMITTED Reverse angle: We see her face. For all her Slayer-lever fighting, she's still just a girl. And she's getting sucked dry. Dying. She pulls back. Grabs Spike's face. He recoils, surprised. She pulls him close. He waits for whatever's coming. She whispers:
(Chinese with subtitles) Tell my mother... I'm sorry. Spike's eyes soften a moment. Total connection. Then:
Sorry, Love. I don't speak Chinese. The life drains from her eyes. He lets go. She falls to the floor, dead. Spike looks at what he's done as the sounds of violent death grow from outside. He wipes his mouth.
(to himself) A fella could get used to this. BLACK OUT.
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| Act Three |
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INT. BUDDHIST TEMPLE - CHINA 1900 - NIGHT Where we were before. Spike alive, the slayer dead. Spike looks up. Sees Drusilla's standing in the doorway, illuminated by the flames outside. She looks stunned.
Ooh, Spike. Look at the wonderful mess you made. She slinks her way across the room, never taking her eyes off the dead girl on the floor, always approaching Spike.
Naughty, wicked Spike. That's a Slayer you've done in.
Suppose it is, yeah.
All by yourself?
Only way, innit? Drusilla stands before him, lust in her eyes. Spike roughly GRABS her and pulls her toward him, holding her body tight against her. She gasps.
…"Pet." Ever hear them say the blood of a Slayer is a powerful aphrodisiac? She nods, slowly.
That and the sound of a thousand little cherubs, crying their eyes out over all the spilled milk.
'Course you do. Here now... He lifts his hand up into frame. It's bloody. Drusilla's gaze turns to Spike as he gently slides one finger into her mouth.
Have a taste. Drusilla goes wide-eyed. Then smiles, still sucking. Spike grabs the back of her neck with his other hand and greedily pulls her to him. They kiss passionately, devouring one another. Spike takes Drusilla, turns her back to the wall and thrusts her up hard against it. They continue wolfing each other down as the screaming outside grows... EXT. CHINA 1900 - NIGHT NOTE: THIS SCENE MATCHES EXACTLY THE SAME SCENE IN ANGEL EPISODE SEVEN. Spike and Dru walk out of the burning building and into the bloody chaos of rebellion all around them. Spike's long period-era coat flows out behind him as he walks. He's no longer the unsure, overcompensating vamp he was before. Now he radiates true confidence. They see Angel and Darla.
Where have you two been? Spike and Dru share a conspiratorial look.
May I tell? Spike nuzzles her.
No need to be humble.
My Spikey's just killed a Slayer!
What? (to Angel) Did you hear that? Angel stares.
(not pleased) Congratulations. I guess that makes you one of us.
Don't be so glum, mate. Way you tell it, one Slayer snuffs it, another one rises. I figure there's a new Chosen One, getting all chosen as we speak. Tell you what: if and when this new bird does show up - I give you first crack at her. Angel nods, stone-faced.
I smell fear -- Her head turns.
This whole place reeks of it.
It's intoxicating. A REBELLING BOXER comes at them with a lethal weapon. Angel drops the guy, twisting his neck nearly off his body. The others react, impressed.
Let's get out of here. This rebellion's starting to bore me. The four of them start to move off together. A POWER SHOT of the four of them striding through the chaos and destruction in slow motion.
It was the best night of my life. INT. THE BRONZE - NIGHT Spike sucks lime after a tequila shot and tosses the rind to the floor. Turns to Buffy.
And I've had some sweet ones. Buffy looks at him with undisguised hatred.
What are you looking at?
You got off on it.
Well, yeah. Suppose you're telling me you don't? How many of my kind, reckon you've done?
Not enough.
And we just keep coming. Like a wave of roaches, and here you are doing a minute waltz, trying to stomp us all. But you can kill a hundred. A thousand. A thousand thousand and the armies of Hell besides. But all we need... He comes closer, seductively. Buffy eyes him with caution but lets him come.
...Is for one of us, just one, sooner or later, to have the thing we all are hoping for.
And that would be what? He gestures, "come closer." She does. He leans in, lips beside her ear. Whispering just for her to hear:
(whisper) One. Good. Day Buffy SHOVES him back away from her.
What? You asked and I'm telling. Problem with you, Summers is you've gotten so good, you're starting to think you're immortal.
No really. I just know I can handle myself.
Huh. Then how you explain this? He shoots a hand out, grabs her side and SQUEEZES. Buffy recoils in pain.
Aah!! At the exact same instant, Spike also recoils in pain.
Aah!! They separate. Both in pain, getting over it. A small group gathers around them, staring at the embarrassing freak couple.
So that it? Lesson over? Spike GRABS a pool cue...
Not even close. EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT We see a VAMPIRE enter the tomb that houses the nest of vampires the Scoobies were scouting earlier. Beat. Then a shadowed figure approaches the nest. We track with it as it walks closer, heading straight toward the tomb entrance. Reverse angel reveals the figure to be Riley. Alone and unarmed. His expression - expressionless. No fear or anticipation, not even the hyped-up adrenaline thing. Just cold killer blankness. INT. VAMPIRE NEST - NIGHT Inside the nest. There's the VAMP who stabbed Buffy and four OTHERS.
So if you killed the Slayer, where's the body?
Buried somewhere, surrounded by sobbing loved ones. He laughs, holds up a bloody STAKE.
Killed with her own weapon. They ought to put this in a museum.
Know what they put in museums? All the vamps turn to see Riley standing in the entrance. Unarmed. Just a flak jacket and an attitude.
Mostly dead things. The vamp gang all exchange looks. Who's this jerk? The Stabbing Vamp RUSHES from where he stands and attacks Riley. The fight is nasty, brutish and short: Riley breaks the Vamp's wrist, catches Buffy's stake before it hits the ground and in the same motion, DUSTS HIM. The others RUSH HIM. Riley punches the first to reach him. Turns, hits another. Rolls. Reaching to his belt as he rolls, Riley unclips a HAND GRENADE. Gets to his feet - and pulls the pin. He drops the grenade to the floor. The remaining vamps dive to the floor, trying to get to the grenade before it... EXT. GRAVEYARD - NIGHT Riley runs from the tomb as behind him, the nest EXPLODES. EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT Buffy stands in her fighting stance out back in the alley behind the Bronze.
Give it to me. Spike lunges at Buffy. She ducks, comes up, grabs him by the throat and throws him up hard against a brick wall. She holds him pinned there. They're both breathing hard. Spike laughs.
What?
Lesson the second: ask the right questions. You want to know how I beat 'em. Buffy lets go, backs off, gestures, "come on."
The question isn't "how'd I win." The question is why'd they lose?
What's the difference? He LUNGES at Buffy with the cue. She doesn't move. The tip of the stick stops - one inch from her throat.
There's a big difference, luv. Buffy coolly BATS the pool cue out of Spike's hands. It goes flying, clattering to the ground twenty feet away.
How'd you kill the second one?
Bit like this. Spike THROWS THREE PUNCHES, faster than the eye can follow. Buffy moves her head, avoiding each punch.
That didn't hurt?
Knew I couldn't touch you. If there's no intent to hurt you, then the chip they shoved up my brain never activates. If, on the other hand... Spike goes VAMP-FACE. He takes another SWING at Buffy, this one straight to her face. He recoils in pain. Staggers.
AHH!! He MORPHS out of vampface.
(laughing) See, now that hurt.
Yeah? Spike turns to Buffy, still grinning. She PUNCHES him.
That hurt, too?
Oh, so good. Buffy PUNCHES Spike again. He goes down.
How 'bout that? He's still grinning - even though he's clearly feeling that last one.
Definite pain there.
How'd you kill 'em, Spike? Spikes tries to hit Buffy. In one move she twists Spike's arm, flips him, and pins him to the ground. In a flash she's on top of him, straddling him, pulls a stake out and holds it hovering over him. Both of them breathing hard.
You're not ready to know.
(firmly) I'm ready. She presses the stake into his flesh. Spike gives.
Okay then. Went like this: Spike flips Buffy off him. Camera follows her as she lands, but when she does: INT. NEW YORK CITY SUBWAY CAR - 1977 - NIGHT ...It's not Buffy who hits the ground. It's NIKKI, a Black Slayer with a no-nonsense afro and a bitchin' black leather coat. The ground she hits is the floor of a subway car. Nikki's good - she rolls and gets to her feet in the same move. She turns to face - Spike, his hair spiked out Sex Pistols style. SUBTITLE: NEW YORK CITY, 1977 Nikki and Spike square off. The car bucks and rolls as subway cars do. Both combatants manage to maintain their footing, but it's not easy. Spike grins and LUNGES at the Slayer. EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT The lunge follows through in the present. Spike lunging at Buffy. She sidesteps him. He turns.
The first one was all business. But the second - now she had a touch of your style. He lunges again. Buffy sidesteps again... INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT ...Exactly as Nikki sidesteps Spike. He passes her, she grabs him by the back of his belt and SPINS him, smashing his head into the window of the subway car. Spike's head is out the car. Lights and stale tunnel wind rush buy. He lets out a HOWL. This is living.
Oh, yeah! Nikki, holding the vampire steady, reaches into her coat and pulls out a deadly thin stake. Spike breaks her grip and pulls himself back into the car. The car starts moving faster. The fight steams up. Nikki and Spike throwing punches at each other in furious, merciless volleys. EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT Spike's feigning the same volleys as he and Buffy continue aping the movements of the Subway fight...
She was cunning, resourceful, and oh, did I mention? Hot. I could have danced all night with that one.
You think we're dancing?
It's all we've ever done. INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT Now Nikki grabs hold of one of the floor-to-ceiling metal support poles. Spins around it 360 degrees, kicking Spike in the head. Spike staggers back, into the next support pole, and RIPS it out of its moorings. Nice. A weapon. Spike gives it a spin as he advances... EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT Spike's still advancing, holding the pool cue in the exact same way he held the subway pole..
Every day you wake up it's the same bloody question what haunts you: Is today the day I die? It's a warrior's pain, a warrior's question and you ask it... Buffy's pissed. She throws a punch. INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT That Nikki lands, right in Spike's face. It doesn't take the grin off his face. Unexpectedly - he looks up, talking to Buffy, continuing his lesson while in the flashback. He and Nikki continue to fight as he speaks, but it's clear that Nikki isn't hearing his lesson. It's for Buffy's ears only.
(continued) ...every time the sun rises. And every day you manage to survive, you're only partly relieved because you know - it's just a matter of time. That pole is now his quarter staff. And he knows how to use it. He attacks her with it. Gets in some licks. She catches it just as it's coming whistling down on her skull, holding Spike frozen in place, just for a second...
Death is on your heels baby - and, sooner or later, it's going to catch you... Nikki kicks Spike in the balls. He doubles over. EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT Spike recovers from the imagined blow - talks to Buffy.
(continued) And some part of you wants it. Not only to stop the fear and the uncertainty - but because you're just a little bit in love with it. INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT Nikki doubles up her fists and hits Spike with all her strength. He goes down. She gets on top of him, lands punch after punch directly onto his face... The lights all FLICKER, accentuating every punch... Then the car is suddenly PLUNGED INTO DARKNESS. It lasts all of three seconds. Nothing to see but the occasionally whooshing-by light, streaking past. The sound of the steel wheels growing... The lights come back on again. And now Spike is on top. He grabs Nikki by the throat and he's squeezing, still talking to Buffy.
Death is your art. You make it with your hands, day after day. That final gasp, that look of peace... EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT Spike, on his knees, in the exact same position except with no one to throttle...
Part of you is desperate to know... What's it like? Where does it lead you? That's also a warrior's question. A warrior's curiosity. INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT Spike speaks directly to us:
So you see, that's the secret. Not the punch she didn't throw or the kick she didn't land. She simply wanted it. Every Slayer has a death wish. Spike BREAKS HER NECK. Just grabs the sides of her head and brutally twists. It's over just like that. She's dead. EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT Spike looks up at Buffy.
Even you. INT. SUBWAY CAR - NIGHT We see the subway car has ground to a halt at a deserted stop in the middle of the night. Ding-ding. The doors open. Spike steps out. Stops. Steps back in. And starts to strip the dead Slayer of her cool leather coat. The one he wears today. As he does...
The only reason you've lasted as long as you have is, you've got ties to the world. Your Mum. Brat kid sister. Scoobies. They tie you here but you're just putting off the inevitable. Sooner or later, you're gonna want it and the second, the second... He claps his hands in her face on the word "second..." EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT The clap slaps air right in front of Buffy's face, making her flinch. Savors this last...
...that happens, I pray to God I'm there. I'll slip in - have myself a real good day. A beat as Spike lets this sink in. Then he starts to button up his leather coat. The one that used to belong to Nikki...
Here endeth the lesson. I just wonder if you'll like it as much as she did-
(cutting him off) No. This is all- You're wrong. He grins, pumped up from his lesson.
Hey. You asked. Sorry if the answer isn't cuddly enough for you- That's it. Buffy's had it with him. She's done.
(deadly) Get out of my sight, Spike. Now.
Ooooh, did I scare you? You're the Slayer. Do something about it. Hit me. Buffy doesn't move, but Spike reads her murderous look. It's turning him on. He wants another go round - bad.
Come on. One good swing. You know you want to.
I mean it-
So do I. Give it to me good, Buffy. Do it.
Spike- Spike loses himself. Grabs Buffy - and moves in to kiss her. He almost does, but Buffy jerks her head away - stunned.
Spike... He holds his breath. Hope. She continues.
What the hell are you doing?!
(still holding her) Come on. I can feel it, Slayer. You know you want to dance. Buffy locks eyes with him. Feels his intensity, his desire. A beat.
Say it's true. Say I do want to... She shoves him brutally backward, breaking the embrace. He falls hard to the ground.
It wouldn't be you, Spike. It would never be you. She tosses the wad of money at him. It scatters over him and the ground. Her expression filled with contempt.
You're beneath me. And with that, Buffy walks away. Spike's living the pain of his initial humiliation all over again. An excruciating beat, then Spike tries to collect himself. He gets off the ground, collecting the strewn cash all the while. Then he stops. Sees himself stooped and picking small bills off the dirty alley floor. And his eyes rise to the retreating Buffy, his expression murderous. We cut to: OMITTED INT. SPIKE'S CRYPT - NIGHT Boom! Spike rips open a trunk, rummages through it... Harmony emerges, watching her man.
Spike? What are you doing?
(muttering) Beneath me, I'll show her, put her six bloody feet beneath me... He finds what he's looking for. Reaches into the trunk and pulls out a SHOTGUN.
Hasn't got a death wish? He snaps the shotgun shut.
The bitch won't need one. BLACK OUT.
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| Act Four |
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INT. SPIKE'S CRYPT - NIGHT We start close on Harmony, looking harried and confused.
Okay, I'm trying to be supportive here, so don't drive a stake through my heart like last time, but... Spike emerges in the foreground, checking the sightlines of the shotgun, holding it thrust forward in firing position.
...You can't kill Buffy. She's the Slayer. She is so gonna kick your ass.
Got two barrels here that'll prove you wrong.
Tch! I knew you'd take it personally. You're so sensitive. He starts to storm out. She stands in his way. He starts to move around her. She blocks him again.
How are you going to kill her? Think. The second you even point that thing at her you're gonna be all... (Spike imitation) "Aaah!" and then you'll get bitch-slapped up and down Main Street unless she's had enough and just stakes you.
This is different. Move.
No! And then you'll come back to me and stomp around and swear a bunch of weird English curses.
(losing patience) Harm...
What is a "bollock," anyway?
Yeah, it'll hurt like hell for about two hours. He puts his arm around the back of her neck...
And she'll be dead just a little longer than that. He roughly shoves her aside and storms out. Harmony calls after him-
Fine. But don't come crying to me when you fail. You couldn't kill her before you got the chip! You had plenty of chances... EXT. SPIKE'S CRYPT - NIGHT Spike strides out of the lair, shotgun in hand, all grim determination. Spike stops for a second. Closes his eyes. That hurt. We hear:
...and you couldn't ever do it. She brought blackness upon us. And we cut to: EXT. SOUTH AMERICA - 1998 - NIGHT An outdoor cafe. Spike, looks miserable. Irritable and smoking up a storm. Drusilla sits nearby, aloof.
So, Sunnyhell was not our finest hour. And yes, I made a deal with the Slayer. But you were shagging Angel and bringing about an Apocalypse to end all life as we know it. So? Every couple's got their ups and downs, Love. Point being, we got through all that, it's behind us now. Isn't it? SUBTITLE: SOUTH AMERICA, 1998
I hate it here. Furry little animals peering at us from out of the trees, and the people all taste funny.
Right. We'll pick up and move again, and we'll keep moving 'til we've found the perfect spot, and there I'll make you my queen. He holds her hand and looks in her eyes, sincerely. She pulls away.
Just tell me what you want.
I want the Slayer dead, Spike. He loses it.
You're the one who keeps bringing her up! I haven't said a word about the bloody Slayer since we left California! She's on the other side of the planet, Dru! Gone from our lives forever!
But you're lying, I can still see her. Floating all around you. Laughing. Why don't you push her away?
But I did, Pet. I did if for you! And you're still punishing me, you think I don't know what's going on with you? Now for the first time we see there is a third creature there. Standing to one side is a CHAOS DEMON. All slime and antlers. The demon speaks, the very picture of soft spoken reason.
Okay. You guys obviously have a thing going on here. They ignore him.
I have to find my pleasures, Spike. You taste like ashes.
This is my fault now? He gestures, "go away." He heads out - but stops once and addresses Spike.
I didn't know she was seeing someone... I should take off.
Yeah, why don't you do that?
You can't blame a girl, Spike, you're all covered with her. I look at you, all I see is the Slayer. OMITTED INT. JOYCE'S BEDROOM - NIGHT Joyce packs an overnight bag, moving about a bit frantically. Buffy enters, sees her Mom packing.
Hey Mom, I put together that grocery list for you...
Oh. Great. Thanks, hon.
Are you okay?
Fine. You seen my conditioner?
Look under the sink? Joyce points at Buffy like "good point." Goes into her bathroom, emerges with a bottle of conditioner.
Where you going? Joyce stops. Sits. Motions for Buffy to join her. Buffy does.
Okay. I'd love to put this off, but... (big breath) You know that "nothing" I've been dealing with, the past couple of weeks? Buffy nods.
It might not be nothing.
What is it?
I'm staying overnight at the hospital for observation. I'm getting a cat scan. Beat as Buffy says nothing and Joyce packs in silence.
It's only one day. And they say if there is anything it's still very early if they didn't see it before. I'm gonna be fine.
I know you will. Joyce looks at Buffy, smiling, loving her... Buffy forces herself to smile back. EXT. BACK PORCH - NIGHT The door to the back porch opens. Buffy steps out. And all the life drains from her. She sits on the back step. She buries her head in her knees, hugging herself. Reverse angle: We see Buffy through a cluster of branches. Spike's P.O.V. He heads toward her. She has no idea he's there. Back to Buffy. She looks up. Spike towers before her, shotgun in hand. She looks up at him, her face open and tear-stained.
What is it now? Spike registers her pain, her vulnerability. He balks. Then-
What's wrong?
I don't want to talk about it.
Is there something I can do? Buffy just looks away. Spike sits beside her. Placing the gun aside, reaches out to her. Awkwardly pats her on the shoulder, trying to comfort her. She lets him try. He withdraws his hand. And the two of them side side-by-side, silent in the evenings darkness... BLACKOUT.
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