Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Buffy the Vampire Slayer is copyright 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. All original
content of Buffy the Vampire Slayer is copyrighted by the author and is not to be used
or modified without permission. All rights reserved.
EXT. SUNNYDALE – PLAIN/GRASSLANDS - 1500 BC/AFTERNOON
A group of Hokan-Coahuiltecan early AMERICAN INDIANS approach the circle of small
stones in the distance. They are dressed in animal skins and the party consists entirely
of men, with the exception of one YOUNG WOMAN. The men are armed with stone
tomahawks and bows. The YOUNG WOMAN walks unsteadily next to the oldest, a
SHAMAN, and appears to be drugged; she relies on his assistance to stay upright and
moving. The YOUNG WOMAN can’t be older than seventeen.
Fairly far from their target, the group halts. The SHAMAN and the YOUNG WOMAN
proceed alone as the warriors spread out and form a circle around the rock formation.
They are keeping their distance but they don’t face outward. Their arrangement and
orientation suggest the threat is going to come from the middle.
The SHAMAN and the YOUNG WOMAN reach their destination. There is a cleared
area for a small fire and beyond it a ring of stone. Inside is a round hole in the ground.
The weird thing about it is the fact that the daylight does not penetrate into its depths.
The visibility ends about a foot below the ground level, with a pool of what appears to be
water or a dark liquid. It is completely smooth and black, hiding the depths from view.
The SHAMAN drops a small bundle of twigs from his back and builds a fire. He adds
some dried herbs to it and it starts to smoke heavily, partially obscuring the area. The
SHAMAN then sits down and begins to chant in strange language. The YOUNG
WOMAN sways to the sound; less a dance, more an automatic response.
A minute passes and then, acting on some unseen signal, the YOUNG WOMAN begins
to walk towards the hole. Barefoot, she steps on the surface and it holds her weight
easily. She moves to the middle of the pool and stops, beginning to sway again in
rhythm with the continuous chanting.
Slowly, she begins to sink. There were barely any ripples left by her passage earlier
and there are only a few as she shrinks in stature. The whole scene would seem, were
it not for the alert and watchful armed warriors, nothing but a peaceful dream.
There is little awareness left in the YOUNG WOMAN and it does not manifest itself with
a struggle. Instead, she raises her head and closes her eyes, enjoying the warmth of
the sun. This is the way the YOUNG WOMAN passes: holding onto the vision of the
blue, open sky and the rays of gold caressing her face.
EXT. SUNNYDALE – PLAIN/GRASSLANDS – 500 AD/EARLY EVENING
Two millennia later, little has changed. There are fewer trees and the grass is shorter
and less green. The rocks are still there, as is the pool.
It is not the nature that has changed, it is man. The AMERICAN INDIANS appear very
much like their long ago ancestors. The weapons have hardly evolved and the outfits
are more decorative, thou not by much. The troubling signs of battle show in the
trampled grass, spots of dried blood, and broken weapons. Numerous adult sized
bodies are wrapped and set on carriers near the horses. Of their opponents, there are
no signs, although there are drag marks leading to the hole. It is possible they were
dumped in there.
The answer as to why a possible sacrilege was committed appears in the imposing
presence of a massive stone, standing upright next to the wound in the earth. The
smaller circle of stone is gone. The towering monolith certainly looks capable of
covering the pool and its contents. Massive piles of wood are stacked nearby.
Everything is ready and there is an air of anticipation to the entire affair.
EXT. SUNNYDALE – PLAIN/GRASSLANDS – 500 AD/NIGHT
The huge bonfires are lit, reaching with orange arms into the starlit heavens. The rock
lid is in place and several SHAMANS sit on it. Behind each stands a WARRIOR with a
tomahawk. Chanting fills the air, with the SHAMANS combining their voices into one
prayer. Abruptly, silence falls.
SHAMANS, invoking an incantation, channeling their power together
Oh our Mother the earth, Oh our Father the sky,
Your children are we, and with our love
We bring you the gift of life.
Then weave for us a garment of protection;
May the warp be the white light of the our purpose,
May the weft be the red light of our sacrifice,
May the fringes be the blue light of our tears,
May the border be the black light of our mourning.
Thus weave for us a garment of protection,
That the Great Spirit may drape over this earth,
That our people walk the land under the sky of blue,
That our people walk where grass is green,
That our people walk free,
Oh our Mother Earth, Oh our Father Sky.
Each WARRIOR raises his weapon and prepares to strike. Suddenly, a commotion
erupts away from the ceremony, beyond the fires. The WARRIORS ignore it and bring
down their tomahawks.
EXT. SUNNYDALE – PLAIN/GRASSLANDS – 500 AD/NIGHT
Several AMERICAN INDIANS are chasing a short figure thru the night. Weapons
whistle their passage in the chill air, narrowly missing the elusive target, dodging and
weaving with grace and speed.
The chase continues unabated until the said figure changes direction and plows straight
into the thick bushes. The AMERCIAN INDIANS split up and surround them. Forming
a cordon, they close the trap as they come together and move into the vegetation. To
their surprise, the intruder is gone. They look around, astonished that anyone could
escape. Resigned, they head back, foiled by darkness and their clever prey.
EXT. SUNNYDALE – PLAIN/GRASSLANDS – 500 AD/NIGHT
Further away, the figure moves stealthily, heading away from the pursuers and the
bonfires in the distance. Then it stops.
The man is short, about 5’3”-5’4”. He wears woven cloth and is armed with a long,
steel knife that hangs from his belt. He does not fit the native culture for this time
period and is clearly from another place.
SHORT MAN, looking back, tearfully
I am sorry, Deneia. So very sorry, my love.
INT. SUNNYDALE – BEDROOM – PRESENT DAY/DAWN
Fifteen centuries later, give or take a few, the same SHORT MAN lies sprawled on the
bed. The room has seen better days … decades ago. The peeling paint is down to
the last few stubborn flakes. There is no furniture to speak of, aside from broken and
dusty piles of wood. The bed is two stained and dirty mattresses piled on top of each
other and covered with few old blankets. They probably smell as bad as they look.
The rising sun barges in through the gaps in the boarded window and announces its
presence. A set of eyes opens and the owner digs out of the filthy nest. He is wearing
a ragged T-shirt and underwear than once was white but has not seen that color choice
in months. The SHORT MAN blinks and wipes his eyes with grimy hands, smudging
the dirt some more. He stands up, yawns, and scratches himself. Morning ritual
done, he looks for the rest of his clothes.
Pulling on torn jeans, he pads to the window on bare feet and looks out.
SHORT MAN, cheerfully
Every morning with you is beautiful, but they all pale next to you, my sweet
SHORT MAN, affectionately
And you in mine.
He reaches out and touches his lips, kissing the fingers. He then places that hand over
SHORT MAN, with determination bordering on madness
Nothing will ever break us apart. Nothing.
A sharply dressed MAN appears behind the first.
Touching and convenient. Morning Mouse; got an errand for you.
END OF TEASER
On the screen, various images of Buffy and the Scoobies Gang appear and a voice
reads the passage.
Into every generation she is born; one girl in the entire world, a chosen one. She
alone will wield the strength and the skill to fight against the vampires, the
demons, and the forces of darkness; to stop the spread of their evil and the swell
of their numbers. She is the Slayer.
INT. SUNNYDALE – SCHOOL HALLWAY – EARLY MORNING
Buffy makes her way down the corridor lined with lockers. She is lost is thought and
does not notice Principal Flutie spot and move to intercept her. Fortunately for him, the
bureaucratic rules work for once and he does not get her attention with a physical
contact, which would likely result in an injury. A surprised Slayer is a violent Slayer.
Instead, he clears his throat loudly.
Miss Buffy Summers, the latest big-city trouble exported to our school.
Punctuality and thirst for knowledge are not the quantities you are known for.
Arson and fist fights are. Why are you here early?
I am going to the library …
Flutie, softening his stance
How commendable …
Buffy, interrupting, leaning in, confidentially
… to vandalize it. It hurts when I read or think.
I see. You have a problem with authority, Miss Summers?
No, just you. Back off, Sergeant Shultz.
Thread softly; I will be watching you.
That’s like illegal in fifty states and totally ewww.
Flutie, taking off the gloves, threateningly
Miss Summers, you are young and foolish so I will enlighten you. When you
pick a fight with administration, you start a war you cannot win. We are
government and we will crush you.
Buffy, throwing his own words back at him, smartly
What happened to: we are from the government and we are here to help you?
See, I’m edumacated.
Flutie, pointing a finger at her, trying to sound tough and failing
You are on the list.
He turns and walks away, having gotten the last word. Buffy lets him.
INT. SUNNYDALE – LIBRARY – EARLY MORNING
In a quiet corner of the library, away from prying eyes and eager ears, the first meeting
of the Scoobies Gang is under way. Giles stands with his nose buried in a book,
Willows sits on the chair, her legs on it, drawn up to her chest, and her arms wrapped
around her lower limbs. She is the picture of anxiety. Xander paces in the small
Buffy joins them and is instantly chastised.
You are late.
The system is oppressing me. Also, the system is checking my ass. I even
made the list of the best asses in Sunnydale High. Witness the eclipse.
She turns to better display her rear. The reactions come in rapid fire succession.
Xander, covering his eyes yet unable to resist peeking between fingers
Giles, desperately looking anywhere but at Buffy, distressed
I don’t want to know. I don’t want to see. I don’t want to get arrested.
Willow, staring at the object in question, admiring
Buffy, Xander & Giles, all looking at Willow as one
BUFFY, XANDER & GILES
Willow, putting her head down immediately, mumbling under her breath
Buffy holds her gaze on Willow a second longer and then shrugs, dismissing the
incident and moving on.
Giles, you have explaining to do. I have vampire quotas to meet, you know?
Yes, what’s with going medieval?
I am a Watcher.
BUFFY, XANDER & WILLOW
Willow and Xander realize the answer they want is not forthcoming and turn to Buffy.
Buffy, shaking her head
Giles is a Watcher, I am a Slayer, vampires exist, there is an invisible Big Mouthy
Bad running around, I kill vampires, Giles watches but does not judge, and once
more with feeling: vampires are real. Oh, and Sunnydale has a yummy vigilante
with no name. What?
Oh, this is no good. I had a plan and a future. And a plan for the future. Now
there is a plan and no future. And I need a new plan. Or something.
Points for anyone who followed that.
Seeing that did not have the desired effect and made Willow withdraw more, Buffy tries
Willow power tackled a vampire.
Our Gandhi Willow?!
Buffy, acting out the tale
Less Mother Teresa, more Mother Ripley. I was “CRUNCH”, “THUD”, and
“ARG”, Willow was “GRRR”, Luke was “HA-HA”, Willow was “SNARL”, Willow
went “SPARTA!”, Luke was “BAM”, WILLOW was “EEEEEEEE”, and finally
Willow went “SPLAT”, followed by “OOF”.
Xander, impressed, teasing
You missed a sound effect.
No, pretty sure got them all.
Giles, focusing on the important part, with a hint of reproach
Fascinating. The real question is: how did Luke trash you?
Chewy and delicious yet oh so wrong banned substance abuse?
Behold the power of chocolate.
Buffy, Willow was charging to your rescue. Willow!
Willow, finally cheering up
Go me! Wait, this a good thing or a bad thing?
That board connects and it’s home run for Luke’s head. True fact.
Willow bringing the heavy guns.
Willow, flexing her arms and posing, affecting a deep voice
They laughed at the books I carry. Well, they are crying now.
Xander just became the female of this group. Way to fail to achieve, Xander.
I would cry, but that would just confirm it.
Giles, trying to get things back on track, impatiently
Luke is out there and a problem.
MAN, appearing out of nowhere, casually
There is a black market for specialized services and supplies in Sunnydale. The
Master paid a warlock for some work.
Hey everybody, it’s the villain. I so want to be friends and go shopping with him.
Oh sure, we fight, insult, and hurt each other. But at the end of the day, can’t a
heroine and her greatest nemesis go to the mall?
Xander and Giles look at each other and then at Buffy.
You are not serious?
Tailored suits and high-end shoes – is it too late to switch sides? The evil
benefits package is divine. You got a health plan?
All the souls you can eat.
Giles, I quit.
Giles throws his hands up and sits down. Xander perches on the edge of the table,
Find Mouse; ask around the local bars for particulars.
The MAN vanishes.
Buffy, pointing at the empty space where the MAN was a second ago
See, see, he is doing it again! Tormenting us mad with vague hints. Is there no
end to his cruel villainy?!
Willow, offering helpfully
If Mouse is a snitch, the police files have a record. I could look.
We will stroll right in and ask?
Better. I hacked their website.
Willow, shirking under Giles’ glare, hastily throwing out excuses
Test of government security … doing my civic duty …
Willow, admitting quietly
… I was bored one day.
I am surrounded by delinquents.
Alright, we are moving up in the criminal underworld.
Who is up for bar hopping after school?
Wow Buffy, when you spiral downward, you really spiral downward. What’s
next, liquid breakfast and lunch?
It’s good to be me.
I will be researching the Harvest. And Buffy: talk, don’t sample.
Underage drinking – yet another feather in the ruin of my life.
Sweet - a drinking buddy of my very own. Mom will be proud.
Why do I even bother?
I will be breaking and entering the internet, if anyone wonders.
Xander, looking around
You know, we make a great team.
Buffy, starting to leave, stopping and addressing Giles
Reminds me; how did the vigilante end up in the alley last night?
I was patrolling near Bronze and recognized him from your description. When
he suddenly took off, I followed. I do say the timing was impeccable.
Next time, I am hitting the girl.
There goes chivalry.
END OF ACT ONE
INT. SUNNYDALE – MIKE’S RATHOLE – LATE AFTERNOON
The place is run down but clean. Wonderful smells waft from the kitchen and the
tables are full. Despite the weather outside and the heat inside, the majority of
customers are covered in layers of cloth. It is as if they are trying to hide something.
Behind the long counter, a large, balding BARTENDER attired in sleeveless white
T-shirt is dispensing the orders. Unusual is the amulet he prominently wears on a
leather necklace. Matching it in symbology are the various artifacts hanging on the
walls and the inside of the entry door. Those all appear to be protection wards.
The door swings inward and along with the fading daylight, Buffy and Xander enter the
establishment. Eyes examine them, whisper a few words, and then the patrons return
to minding their business. Here, no one asks questions or judges another.
Buffy and Xander move to the bar. Before they can say anything, the BARTENDER
barks at them.
Two butts hit the stools.
I’m Mike, the owner. Don’t bother anyone or get physical; this place is neutral
ground. You start trouble and Mr. Baseball bat comes out. You persist and Mr.
Shotgun joins him. Keep testing your luck and the heavy stuff comes down on
you and God help you then. Understand me, Slayer?
Buffy, realizing this is serious, subdued
Buffy, this is not a good idea.
If it is happening in Sunnydale, I know about it. If you need a service or a
certain item, I make the introductions. Word gets back you harmed my
recommendation and I put a contract out on you. Then you have a messy
accidental death. The price is a meal and a drink. Those are the terms, take it
or leave it.
You know Mouse?
Deal. Let’s see the menu.
EXT. SUNNYDALE – MIKE’S RATHOLE – EARLY EVENING
The outside is in no better shape but at least the sign above appears recent. A
CUSTOMER follows them outside and stops them with a hand on each shoulder.
You kids got protection?
I have Buffy.
You are a bright one, aren’t you?
CUSTOMER, taking out a badge and showing it to Buffy and Xander
Detective Ryan Moore, Sunnydale homicide. Take the fun home; I don’t want to
file a report featuring your corpses later this evening.
N-No, no this is not what you think. I mean it looks like what you think …
Buffy, rescuing him, cutting in
Wait, you don’t care if we drink and have wild, albeit protected sex?
I survived teenager in Sunnydale. In this town your age group is dying at
quadruple the national average - runaway hormones and substance abuse are
the least of our problems.
Sadly, neither are they mine. Well, one of them is. What? I only had one beer
in my life and that was today. And I don’t want to talk about the other.
Ryan, eyes narrowing, sharply
Okay, if you are not in it for the party, why here and what’s with the hard liquor?
Buffy, grabbing the bottle by the neck and lifting it out of the paper bag, doing pretend
Jack Daniel’s, Mouse. Mouse, Jack Daniel’s.
Ryan, showing instant recognition of the name, interested
Mouse the snitch?
Ryan, taking out his notebook, getting ready to write
Sorry, procedure. Your names?
Ryan, finishing the notation, all business
We are looking for Luke.
Luke got a last name?
I see. You normal or mixed?
BUFFY & XANDER
You walk into Mike’s, where the clientele stretches the definition of human and
you asking me? Don’t play stupid.
Seeing them remain clueless, Ryan snaps the notebook close and puts it away, along
with the pen. He then subdues Xander by twisting his arm behind his back and
shoving him into the wall face first.
I know nothing – nothing!
Buffy grabs Ryan by the collarbone and squeezes while pressing down. He
immediately releases Xander.
That answers the question.
Ryan, in pain
Okay, okay, I give. You can let go.
Buffy holds it a second longer, sending a silent message.
Ryan works the now free shoulder, trying to restore the feeling. There is respect in his
eyes, directed at Buffy.
Buffy did not mean it, you have to believe me. She is very protective of others.
Ryan, to Xander, dismissing the concern with a gesture
It’s in the past.
Ryan, to Buffy, warning her
Mouse is a stinking weasel and a pathological liar. You will be fine after dark in
his neighborhood but your woman will need protection.
I hate you already.
I serve and protect; you are in way over your head, Xander. If you are lucky,
you will end up like Buffy here. If not … condolences.
Ryan swivels on his foot and walks away rapidly, towards an unmarked car on the other
side of the street.
What did he mean by that? What does he think you are?
Half demon, half hotness, all Buffy.
Xander, uneasy and uncomfortable
The guy has gray hair and rocks AARP.
Older men – it’s a phase.
The engine comes to life and the car pulls away from a curb in the background.
I did not hear that. I need ear bleach.
Hot for a teacher ring a bell?
So, subject change much?
We could go with your plan. It is against the law, but apparently okay.
Xander, I like you. Don’t make me hurt you.
What are we standing here for? We have a Mouse to catch!
Crystal ball sees pain.
Hey, I am working on short notice here. Not everyone has your wit.
It’s way tragic.
EXT. SUNNYDALE – NEAR MOUSE’S PLACE – EVENING
The neighborhood is a blight of decaying homes. Glass windows are long gone,
broken by vandals. However, despite the abandoned, boarded look and the numerous
condemned signs, the place appears to be inhabited. There are toys on the lawns and
the city did not cut the power to the street lights; neither did the utility company. There
are lights in almost all the houses and drafty windows bring the sound of TV and voices.
Brookville – there was talk of contamination of the ground in the news, people
getting sick, followed by lawsuits and settlements. The whole place was left to
the desert long ago. No one is supposed to live here. It is not safe for people.
Something tells me that there are none of those here. At least not entirely
Fascinating - a community of demons, vampires, and … things. This bears
I think you should focus on the part where the entire neighborhood wants to eat
us, sacrifice us, or possess us. The important points, you know?
Wait, no one said anything about moving in. Giles said it was safe and we back
up Buffy. Crowd of bloodthirsty monsters after my flesh is not the last memory I
I second that. No one touches me but me.
Congratulation, you put the “self” before “love”. Mental trauma, ewww, and TMI
in one sentence. That’s totally a talent to envy.
Willow, quickly changing the subject
And on the topic that does not involve Xander and … Xander, Mouse has a file
that goes back decades. Only part of it is in the system; earlier years are in the
archives, in the basement under the police station. The records go back to early
Willow, to Buffy, concerned
He is not reliable and a source of trouble. The police suspect him of
involvement in several crimes, everything from petty theft to homicide. Buffy, he
is dangerous. The recent notes say his mental health is deteriorating. Be
Buffy, doing the Boy Scout salute
Like a Boy Scout, always ready and prepared. And if anyone breathes the
words Girl Scout, I will sew a badge over their mouth.
Right, don’t want you more violent than you already are.
Giles, steering the conversation to the subject that brought them here
Now then; Harvest refers to wholesale taking of lives, usually for ritual purposes.
Ah … no. The essence, the life force if you will, has many uses in dark magic.
However, vampires, even Master ones, don’t dabble in it. It is a valuable
commodity but unless he trades it for something, it is useless to him.
Nice, we have evolved from food into currency.
Bet Darwin did not see that coming.
Giles, to Buffy, irritated
How can you be so smart and a complete sufferance in general?
Selective brain impairment?
Willow, objecting vehemently
Don’t say that. There is nothing wrong with you.
Xander, giving Willow a strange look
Before Willow declares her undying love for the perfection that is Buffy, don’t we
have a Mouse to catch?
We stay here and secure the outside. You go inside and have a word with the
informant. Keep the screaming down; neighbors here are the unfriendly sort.
Buffy, bouncing with excess energy, eagerly
Six bars and not a single fight; what’s a girl to do for fun? I know, play pummel
Xander? Parting wisdom, something inspirational?
There she goes, Miss Sunnydale?
And on that sour note, it is Slayer time.
That’s even worse.
Remember, I claimed keepsies of your worship. No take backs.
Sometime today, children.
BUFFY, WILLOW & XANDER
END OF ACT TWO
INT. SUNNYDALE – MOUSE’S PLACE – LATE EVENING
Mouse sits on the only chair in the gutted kitchen. The table and appliances are
missing, except for a stove. Few cabinets cling tenaciously to the walls, doors long
gone and the shelves missing.
Mouse is busy scraping the insides of the can, really going to town with a spoon in an
effort to get every last juicy morsel. He jumps when the back door is kicked open and
settles down when he sees Buffy enter.
Mouse, going back to the canned treasure, nonchalantly
Door was open.
I am a center of attention kind of gal.
Buffy, handing over the bottle of JD
Mouse grabs the alcohol and opens it. He pours a good amount inside the can and
swishes it around, working the spoon vigorously. Satisfied, he drinks the mixture.
Like gross. JD and chili do not a marriage make. And it is the meat kind too.
You are one sick ... something.
Mouse, smacking and licking his lips
Buffy, sniffing the air
Your eating habits are almost as pleasant as your personal hygiene.
We know why you here.
I want Luke.
Since you are easy on the eyes and generous with the booze, here is a story for
you. Demons, except for the strongest, possess humans to exist here. You
see one in true form, run away. Anyway, Hellmouth leaks and our numbers
grow. We even have this lovely community courtesy of the Major. When the
planets or whatnots are aligned just right, Harvest happens. Vampires are
perfectly suited to the task. The Master gets an artifact and the warlock receives
power. Don’t think to pay the warlock a visit because that would be fatal; for
you, not him. The end.
Mouse, calling out loudly
In answer, from inside the house, Luke strolls into the kitchen with a small smile on his
lips. He has already transformed into a vampire.
We believe you two met. Luke is collecting and each victim makes him stronger.
Nice side effect, that.
Mouse, tossing the can to the large pile in the corner and taking a swig of liquor, smug
Think, Slayer. You ask around town for us and not expect it to get back? Luke
and the Harvest are top news in these parts. Put the two together and we saved
you the trouble.
Mouse settles back into the chair, content to watch the free show.
Buffy, focusing on Luke
Master sends his regards.
I will be sure to answer personally.
Not from afterlife.
I am done holding back.
Buffy does a spinning roundhouse that sends Luke crashing into the cabinets, smashing
the lot of them.
You want the Slayer, you got her.
She lifts the dazed vampire by the hair, drags him over to the stove and smashes his
face into the surface. Repeatedly.
Mouse gets up out of the chair and slowly backs away, heading deeper into the house.
This is getting too intense for him. As he backpedals, Buffy looks straight at him.
Buffy, pinning him with her gaze
We are not done yet.
Buffy turns her attention back to Luke.
How does that taste?!
Mouse turns and bolts from the room and Buffy follows his escape.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Luke drives an elbow into Buffy’s gut, backing her
up. He tackles her, picks her up and runs them both into the wall. Buffy takes the
brunt of it as they go thru it and tumble into the adjoining living room. They leave
behind a large hole of broken 2x4s and drywall.
Luke scrambles to his feet and picks up the large, ancient TV. Bringing it over his
head, he throws it at the head of dazed Buffy, still on the floor. She narrows avoids it
by rolling away and jumps to her feet as it explodes from the impact. Reaching for the
table lamp, she shatters it on his advancing head, followed by the table it was resting
on. She caps it with a flying knee kick that sends him staggering back, towards the
boarded window. Buffy grabs Luke and pulls out a stake, intending to finish it. He has
other ideas. Luke puts Buffy in a bear hug and rotating, tosses her thru the covered
window, right onto the front lawn. The stake and pieces of debris follow her flight path.
Luke climbs out after her.
He finds Buffy relaxing on the grass, lying on her back with hands under her head. She
is stargazing. Aside from some dust and few scratches, she looks fine. Luke on the
other hand is a mess. Torn and disheveled clothes, bloody nose and face, and stiff
posture; he has been thru the wringer and looks it.
Not looking too hot there, blood breath. Fashion is everything, you know?
No more games.
Final jeopardy, I pinkie swear. What’s 3 + 1?
Luke, using his fingers to count, after a while
Giles, Willow, and Xander step out of the darkness, loaded crossbows in hand.
Audience says …
GILES, WILLOW & XANDER
Three bolts strike Luke and he is gone. A ring falls on the grass with a soft sound and
lies among the ashes. Giles approaches and takes out a handkerchief. He picks up
the artifact carefully.
Buffy, sitting up, looking at Giles with interest
Human – it does a body no good. Also, brush after meals. What you got?
Giles, examining the object, thoughtfully
Ancient and judging by the symbols, associated with dark magic. I will take it
back and study it.
Buffy, standing up and going to pick up her stake, not noticing Willow approach her
Don’t go summoning things, I got a social life. On life support, granted.
Willow, reaching out and gently touching the slight marks on Buffy’s face, upset
What happened in there?
Buffy, moving her head away and stepping back, misreading the concern, annoyed
Remodeling. I am not glass, people.
Rejected, Willow puts her head down and takes off, crying.
Buffy, you are an idiot.
Xander runs after Willow and catching up, offers her comfort. He rubs her back and
talks to her in low, soothing tones.
Buffy, looking at Giles for an answer, puzzled
Did I miss something? Are those two together?
I have no clue; it’s all teenager to me. Let’s head back and you can fill me in.
EXT. SUNNYDALE – BUFFY’S NEIGHBORHOOD – NIGHT
Buffy walks alone down the sidewalk, the shadows holding no surprises for her. Angel
steps out of the darkness and joins her. They walk in amiable silence for a while, it
being a battle of wills.
Angel, cracking first
You continue to impress.
Keeping an eye on you is a full time job.
Dedicated and charming, my type. So, you like to watch?
Angel, returning the sentiment
Depends on who I am watching.
Do you like what you see so far?
I suppose I could learn to like it.
Angel, disarmed by her infectious joy, sharing
Angel, spreading his arms in apology, drifting off at the end
No last name, I’m afraid. One day …
Buffy, pretending to be mad, grin betraying her
You can take the whole mysterious stranger thing too far, you know?
Goodbye Buffy. Sweet dreams.
Buffy, watching him walking away, appreciatively
Oh, they will be now.
INT. SUNNYDALE – WILLOW’S BEDROOM – NIGHT
The bedroom is typical in its décor, unusual in its tidiness and order. Posters of
actresses line the walls. Willow lies in bed, reading a book; or trying to. Her eyes
have trouble focusing on the text and soon they drift over to the pictures. They settle
on Anna Kendrick and get that faraway look.
MAN, breaking the building dream, quietly
What did you feel when you Buffy walked into that house alone?
Willow, giving him a small smile in lieu of verbal greeting, sadly
Close yet unable to do a thing.
Willow, nodding, happy that there is someone who understands her, admitting
MAN, coming over and sitting on the side of the bed, sympathetically
Sidekick and a friend is not enough and you know it. I know it. Willow, it is
within you to have what you desire without changing the person inside.
Question is: are you willing to fight for what is rightfully yours?
I don’t trust you. What is the cost?
The world is not black and white; it is grey. Magic opens the door; given time
and proper instruction, you and Buffy will walk together into danger as equals.
Willow, whispering, with difficulty
… I … I want … more.
Willow, listen very carefully. You cannot, under any condition, use the arts on
Buffy; her nature will destroy you. Whatever happens, it will be her choice.
MAN, painting the future, enticingly
The Slayer and her Witch or Buffy and just one of the gang – which fate will you
There is a long silence and then Willow looks him straight in the eyes, her mind made
Willow, barely audible
There is wisdom in you and the heart of a lion. You have the power to shape
MAN, standing up, leaving parting words before disappearing
Mouse will contact you.
Abruptly, three of posters shimmer and they are all close-up portraits. When the effect
dissipates, they now show Buffy. Everything is the same about them as before except
the person in it.
Unable to believe her eyes, Willow gets out of bed in her cartoon pajamas and slips her
feet into bunny slippers. She walks to the nearest one and reaches a trembling hand.
It is real and not an illusion as she finds out when her fingers gently trace the face.
MAN, speaking faintly, as if from far away
She's beautiful, and therefore to be wooed; she is woman, and therefore to be
She is mine.