Reprise

Part 1

January 15, 2001 (Yellow)

Written by: Tim Minear

Teaser

INT. ABANDONED TENEMENT - CORRIDOR - NIGHT

CAMERA CREEPS through an abandoned tenement building, taking in the emptiness and dilapidation. This place might as well be called "The Schmuck Bait Arms" as we're...

TRACKING PAST items left behind by those who once lived here -- an old chair, broken dishes, discarded clothing, like that. And, specifically -- and merely for atmosphere -- a tattered CHILD'S DOLL, eye gouged out, limb ripped of.

Over all of this, WE HEAR, FAINTLY, in some undiscernible distance, what sounds like the CRIES OF A CHILD, echoing eerily as we move forward, until finally WE SEE...

A SHADOWY FIGURE

Rising up out of a dark stairwell. The figure moves forward, into a pool of pale light... Cue the hero music. It's ANGEL, in full-on Dark Avenger mode, all his senses on the alert. He's hearing that spooky crying, too, and he's moving toward it.

MOVING WITH ANGEL as he inches up to a broken old door. The CRYING is louder here. Then it stops. A beat, Angel reaches down, gently pushes on the door, eases it open, keeps to the shadows as he slips into...

INT. ABANDONED TENEMENT - VACANT APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

We're very close with Angel, and it's very dark in here. All around him, a WEIRD RUSTLING NOISE. He moves deeper into the room, conscious of the strange RUSTLING beneath him. He's made his way into the center of the room. We're still tight. Glinting nearby, a hanging chain. Angel reaches for it, gives it a tug -- a single hanging light bulb snaps on.

WIDER

Angel is standing in the middle of the room knee deep with FIFTY LIVE GOATS (or however many we can cram in here), wall-to-wall. Angel's expression is pure deadpan. Not surprised, not impressed. We linger on this image for a moment or two. Then... the CRYING begins again.

It's coming from behind the door to the next room. Angel navigates his way through the goatage... moves to that door, reaches for the knob, turns it, cracks it open and CAMERA MOVES off him, peering into...

INT. ABANDONED TENEMENT - ANOTHER ROOM - CONTINUOUS

...A chamber of horrors. An ALTAR has been erected. Ceremonial candles burn. Bones, talismans and various other ooga-boogady items adorn the place. (We may or may not also note a few opened packing boxes.)

TWO MEN, dressed in butcher's aprons, hover over the altar -- their backs to us and their bodies obscuring our view of the doomed creature there. First Worshipper struggles to hold down the (apparently) squirming sacrifice while Second Worshipper tries to read from a booklet of printed instructions, clearly unnerved by the CRIES.

FIRST WORSHIPPER
What's next?

SECOND WORSHIPPER
(finding his place)
'Anoint offering with sacred oil...'

FIRST WORSHIPPER
Done that, skip down --

SECOND WORSHIPPER
'When making any live blood offering,
worshipper should always allow for
arterial spray. Dress accordingly.
Be sure all troughs are securely
fastened and sacrifice is tilted as
shown in diagram f-12 to ensure full
drainage into sacred offering bowl.'

FIRST WORSHIPPER
Yes, yes, and?

SECOND WORSHIPPER
'Using a clean, diagonal motion, slit
throat of sacrifice with the pre-blessed
ceremonial dagger. Provided.
(looking around)
I didn't see that in the box --

FIRST WORSHIPPER
Look under the packing. Hurry up.

SECOND WORSHIPPER
(rummaging)
It's not in here --

ANGEL (O.S)
You know...

Startled, the two men whip around, lose their victim -- A YOUNG GOAT, which BLEATS then bolts.

Angel stands holding a, frankly, cheap looking ceremonial dagger.

ANGEL
...I, uh... well. I really couldn't
help but notice the goats.

Angel casually roams the space, taking in the set up.

ANGEL
Yeah. Lotta goats. Goats -- many.
(then, impressed)
Those are some goats, guys.

SECOND WORSHIPPER
Hey! That's our pre-blessed...

Angel jams the dagger into the wall, bends it to uselessness.

SECOND WORSHIPPER
...ceremonial dagger...

ANGEL
Sue me. Or better yet, have your
bosses do it. This building's owned
by Wolfram and Hart.

The two men exchange worried looks.

FIRST WORSHIPPER
What do you want?

ANGEL
I wanna know what they're having you worship.

FIRST WORSHIPPER
None of your business. Who are you?

Angel looks at them --

ANGEL
Me?

WHOOSH! Angel is across the room. Now he's got them both pinned up against a wall, a hand clamped around each throat -- oh, yeah, and he's in full VAMP FACE.

ANGEL
I'm just a guy who hates to see good
blood go to waste.

Both guys now big with the stinky fear. Time to blab all --

FIRST WORSHIPPER
Look, man, we just get paid to do the
slaughtering and say the prayer!

ANGEL
What are you praying to?

SECOND WORSHIPPER
We don't know!

ANGEL
(eyes narrowing)
How can you "not know?"

First Worshipper waves a hand at a nearby open prayer book.

FIRST WORSHIPPER
The ritual, it's all in Latin! They
said we should just sort of, you
know, sound it out!

ANGEL
"They?"

FIRST WORSHIPPER
Like you said... Wolfram and Hart.

SECOND WORSHIPPER
All we know is, the sacrifices gotta
be done by midnight, or else something
out there's gonna get real pissed off.

ANGEL
(after a beat)
Good.

Angel roughly unhands them, (staying vampfaced throughout, now) picks up a human leg bone (or something baseball bat like) and starts smashing the altar to pieces. Off his frenzy and the two hands-for-hire backing away from this loony vampire and out the door...

BLACK OUT.

END OF TEASER

Act One

INT. OFFICE - DAY

WESLEY, in a wheelchair still recovering from his gunshot wound, GUNN and CORDELIA (both kneeling) all examine the back of the YOUNG GIRL'S head who stands before them. The girl's MOTHER, a pleasant housewife type, stands nearby.

GUNN
Well, I don't see anything.

WESLEY
Not a trace.

CORDELIA
When she goes back to school next
week, the other kids'll never even
know she had a third eye growing
back here!

Cordy replaces a baseball cap on the girl's head, gives her an affectionate pat, rises with:

CORDELIA
And that should come back in
before you know it.

MOTHER
(alarmed)
What?

CORDELIA
The hair. I meant the hair. In back
there where the... not the third eye...
that won't grow back.
(aside to Wesley)
Right?

WESLEY
No reason it should. The restorative
charm seems to have worked like a...
well, charm, really.

MOTHER
We can't thank you.

WESLEY
Don't give it another thought.

GUNN
It's what we do.

CORDELIA
Kind of a mission.

MOTHER
No. I mean we can't thank you.
And we can't pay you, either.
This bill. It's ridiculous.

The woman deposits an envelope on the counter.

CORDELIA
Whaddya mean? We didn't even charge
you for the mandrake!

MOTHER
My husband says it's outrageous.

Wesley wheels forward with tremendous dignity.

WESLEY
Does he? And just what would your
husband consider a fair price for the
removal of the third eye from the back
of your daughter's head, Mrs. Sharp?

MOTHER
Well -- nothing.
(off their silence)
Steve says that since it's impossible
to be bitten by a demon and grow a
third eye on the back of one's head,
that obviously you people are running
some kind of scam and you won't
squeeze one red cent out of us.
Come on, Stephanie.

She takes her daughter by the hand, moves to the door.

CORDELIA
Scam! The back of your kid's head
was blinking!

Wesley wheels his chair in between Cordy and the door.

WESLEY
No. Let her go.
(off their looks)
Clearly it's easier for the Sharps to
cast us as con-artists, rather than
accept the grim reality that Skilosh
spawn nearly hatches full-grown
from their child's skull.

GUNN
Gee -- wonder why.

CORDELIA
Great. So while they're indulging
their denial and you're sitting there
being all wise and Winston Churchilly,
we've got bills to pay!

GUNN
I think you mean Roosevelt.

CORDELIA
What?

Gunn has moved to the coat rack.

GUNN
Roosevelt was the one in the
wheelchair, not Churchill.

CORDELIA
Yeah, well... now they're both dead,
aren't they?

WESLEY
Perhaps, given time, the Sharps will
come 'round.

GUNN
Right. Because that's what people do.
They "come 'round."

Gunn slips on his coat.

CORDELIA
Where're you going?

GUNN
Think I'll go see what's happening in
the neighborhood. Got a feeling I'll
do more good there than I will sitting
around here with you two.

CORDELIA
What about the agency?

GUNN
No offense, but that was our one
payin' customer in over a week,
and guess what? They ain't payin'.

WESLEY
Things'll pick up again. They're
bound to.

CORDELIA
Yeah. It's L.A. The evil's probably
just tied up in traffic or something.

GUNN
Well you let me know when it gets
here, right?

Gunn exits. Off Wes and Cor, sitting in silence...

INT. WOLFRAM AND HART - LOBBY - DAY

A sharp contrast. Big with the bustling. The energy level seems ratcheted up several notches, even for this place. But it's tense energy. Something's in the air. Lilah moves through the busy lobby, spots Lindsey, approaches him.

LILAH
Lindsey! I've been looking all over
for you. Where are you going?

LINDSEY
Lunch.

LILAH
Lunch? You think now's the time for
you to be going to lunch?

LINDSEY
You mean... lunchtime?

LILAH
The Review's in two days.

LINDSEY
I'm aware of that.

LILAH
(off the tense hustle
bustle around them)
Yeah, so is everyone else. Look at
them. Like they've had the fear of...
well, "God" would probably be the
wrong word...

LINDSEY
(not without contempt)
They're running scared.

LILAH
They should be. I've dug up
everything I could on the last
Seventy Five Year Review. It's
all in there.

She hands him a manila envelope. He keeps walking.

LILAH
Makes the Christmas Purge of '68 look
like a fun old time. Nearly half of mid-
management was sacked... and, Lindsey?
They used actual sacks.

LINDSEY
I'll read it, Lilah.

LILAH
You'd better, because it's not just
your ass on the line, it's mine too.
We're supposed to be running this
division together, remember?

LINDSEY
(drier than whiskey)
Oh, right.

LILAH
I've included some suggestions on how
we can plump up our portfolio before
Friday.

LINDSEY
We'll either pass review or we won't.
You really think a few last minute
Dark Rites and Rituals are going to
make the difference now?

LILAH
Everyone else seems to think so.
I heard Henderson actually pulled
her First Born out of company
daycare to offer it up to - Brown-noser.
(then, muttering)
My mother was right -- I should have
had children.

LINDSEY
We'll stand on our record -- that's
all we've got.

LILAH
Then we're dead. Do I have to remind
you of our collective screw-ups?
(intense, hushed)
Two of which are still out there somewhere.
(then, suddenly)
You haven't heard anything, have you?
You'd tell me if they contacted you?

LINDSEY
He set them on fire, Lilah -- even
vampires as strong as Darla and
Drusilla need time to recover from
something like that.

LILAH
Well, it's be just like them to pop
up now.

LINDSEY
I wouldn't worry.

LILAH
Someone's got to. We don't get a
second shot at this, Lindsey. Nothing
can happen between now and Friday
to screw this up.

She moves off. We hold on Lindsey, considering her words. As the place hums and buzzes around him we PRE-LAP with:

ANGEL (V.O.)
...blood sacrifices, black masses,
totems...

INT. POLICE PRECINCT - KATE'S OFFICE - DAY

Angel dogs Kate around the office as she moves from filing cabinet to desk to cabinet. He looks like he hasn't slept in a few days. She doesn't seem to be paying a lot of attention to him. He's an annoyance, a buzz in her ear. He's rambling.

ANGEL
...not sure what it all means, but
it's been happening all over town.
Could be a raising... But... I don't
know. They prayers, the rituals --
they're too generic for that. Boiler
plate. They could just be preparing
the way for something...

KATE
(whirls, cuts him off)
Or maybe they're just trying to make
it rain.
(as she turns away)
Why is this so important to you?

He looks at her like she's crazy for asking the question.

ANGEL
Because -- it's important to them.

KATE
Oh, right. And therefore, "it must
be stopped."

He lets that pass, pushes on with:

ANGEL
I need your help, Kate. I don't have
the resources...

KATE
(abruptly)
My help? You need "my help."

She's staring. He looks at her, takes a beat.

ANGEL
Angel... At the very least they're
butchering animals without a permit.
You can get them on that.

KATE
No. I can't. I can't "get them" on
anything, Angel. I'm on desk duty.
Pending the hearing on Friday.

She dumps a stack of files on her desk.

ANGEL
Hearing?

KATE
You remember Atkinson? The Captain
over at the Two Three? He's blaming
me for granting access to some lunatic
who broke into his office and beat the
ever-holy-crap out of him. He's lodged
a formal complaint.

She suddenly finds this funny. A burst of giggles. She puts her hand over her mouth to keep from guffawing.

ANGEL
He lodged a complaint against you?
He was raising zombie cops and
setting them loose on the streets --

KATE
And I'm sure once I explain that to
Internal Affairs, this'll all just go away.

Now she goes almost dark. Serious.

KATE
They've just been looking for an excuse.
You know what they say about me..?
(muttering to herself)
I'm a copy. That's all I've ever...
I can't take a suspension. I'd just...

She's pretty much said that to her files. Angels looks at her now. Really sees her distress, maybe for the first time.

ANGEL
I'm sorry.

KATE
Are you? Because they just might
want to know about this, too.

She opens the file, starts setting out crime scene photo after photo of the wine cellar. Dead lawyers.

ANGEL
(getting a bit stony)
You had nothing to do with that.

KATE
Didn't I?

ANGEL
No...

KATE
Mmmm. Still, funny how these dead
people were threatened by an intruder
at their offices -- an intruder I picked
up... then released back onto the streets
three hours before the complainants
were found massacred.

ANGEL
You know who's responsible for that.

KATE
Yeah. What I can't figure out,
though, is why forensics is now
telling me how it looks like the
suspect -- or suspects -- didn't
break in... they had to break out.
(then)
The victims were locked in that wine
cellar with their attackers, and I think
I'm done helping you now.

She moves away. Off Angel --

INT. LINDSEY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Lindsey enters his new apartment, jacket over his arm, tie loosened. He tosses his jacket, deposits his briefcase on the coffee table. As he does, he speaks to someone who is OFFSCREEEN...

LINDSEY
Sorry I'm so late. I tried to get
home for lunch, but things are
crazy at the office with this
review coming up.

We see he's carrying a bottle-shaped brown paper bag. We move with him as he crosses over to --

DARLA

Lies on the sofa, a shawl over her. her scars are mostly healed, but she looks pale, weak.

LINDSEY
I would have called, but I didn't
want you to have to get up to
answer the phone. How do you feel?

DARLA
Stronger today, I think.

LINDSEY
That's good. You're getting stronger
every day.

She's a bit spacey.

DARLA
Only because you saved me. I'd still
be in that sewer if you hadn't found me.
(through a mental fog)
I don't know how you did it.

LINDSEY
(patiently)
Drusilla. She came to me. Remember,
I told you?

DARLA
Oh. Yes. She's gone.

LINDSEY
She'll be back. She just went up to...

DARLA
(cutting him off)
No.
(then)
You're the only one that hasn't
abandoned me.

LINDSEY
And I never will.

She reaches out, strokes his cheek. A blistering moment, then he removes a blood bottle from the bag. Hands it to her.

LINDSEY
Go on. You keep getting stronger.
And when you're ready, we can
pay him back for what he did to you.

She holds the bottle. Pouts.

DARLA
It's cold.

LINDSEY
That' the only way to keep it fresh.

DARLA
Not the only way.

She opens the bottle, sniffs it. He rises, tugs at his tie.

DARLA
At least it's Human.

LINDSEY
(no comment)
I'm going to take a shower, okay?

She's not even looking at him, holding up the bottle and studying the light bouncing off of it with childlike fascination.

DARLA
You always take a shower when you get
back from that place. Don't know why.
You're never dirty.

LINDSEY
I'm always dirty.

He moves off. Our first clue that Darla's been faking it is the gigantic eye roll she gives Lindsey's exiting line once he's out of the room.

She listens, HEARS the SHOWER in the other room. Throws off the shawl. Rises. This girl's just fine.

She moves to his briefcase. Rifles through it, finds the manila envelope that Lilah gave him. She slides out its contents, views it with interest. As she does, she take a sip from the blood bottle. Makes a face, sets it aside.

BING-BONG. Doorbell. She moves to it, pulls it open. At first, it appears that no one's there -- then we TILT DOWN to see. A GIRLSCOUT stands there, holding a box of cookies.

DARLA
Sweets...

Off Darla, eyeing the fresh-faced youngster...

INT. KARAOKE BAR - NIGHT

Angel has to squeeze sideways to even get in this place. It's PACKED TO THE RAFTERS. He displays no reactions to this, he's single minded, preoccupied. He shoves his way through the demons and humans, searching for --

THE HOST

Who is in frustrated conversation with a BARTENDER.

HOST
I don't know. Substitute it with something.
Be creative. I know you can.
(to Angel as he approaches)
Can you believe this? Not even ten o'clock
and we've already run out of yak's bile.

Angel's all business, with a definite intensity lurking just beneath the surface.

ANGEL
We need to talk.

The Host looks at Angel, gives him a serious once-over, taking in his smell of desperation. Then, dismissive:

HOST
You should've booked in advance.
I doubt we'll be able to get you on
stage tonight.

ANGEL
I'm not here to sing.

HOST
Oh, is that what we're calling it now?

ANGEL
Something's coming.

HOST
Really? I thought it was just the
complimentary nachos bringing in
the morally ambiguous crowd.

The Host nods toward a booth where several UPTIGHT MEN AND WOMEN in business suits are sitting.

ANGEL
Lawyers?

HOST
Mmmm.

Host eyeballs Angel as Angel eyeballs lawyers. The Host is really sizing up Angel, closely watching his intense, laser-like reaction to the table of lawyers:

HOST
Easy, big fella. I know what you're
thinking... Literally. And the throwing-
yourself-across-six-tables-and-twisting-
their-heads-off-their-necks part? Not
a good idea.

Angel takes a beat. Now he turns and looks at the Host.

ANGEL
You've read them. You've seen it.
You know what's coming.

HOST
Now, Angelcakes. You wouldn't
appreciate it if I were to blab your
personal stuff to every Tom, Dick
and vampire that walked in the door,
would you?

ANGEL
Is it bad?

HOST
Oy. But I really can't divulge to
you what I read in another being.
(then)
Though I can pass along what I
overheard in the men's room. It's
coming Friday. And they've all
got their legal briefs in a twist
about it.

ANGEL
What?

HOST
Well! Apparently, every seventy-five
years your friends over at Wolfram and
Hart have this "review." But I think the
general angst is less about the review
and more about the reviewer. And let's
just say it ain't Rex Reed.

ANGEL
What is it?

HOST
Something evil and dark and merciless.
(then)
Actually, now that I say it out loud,
sounds an awful lot like Rex, doesn't it?

ANGEL
(growing frustration)
Maybe you could just tell me in one
word what it is?

HOST
Pffft. Not likely.
(then)
But I can tell ya in two:

The Host leans in close to Angel. Looks him in the eye.

HOST
Senior. Partner.

He takes a sip, moves off into the crowd. Beyond Angel, TWO or THREE of the LAWYERS have taken the stage. They launch into "Re-United." Off Angel, reacting to that...

BLACK OUT.

END OF ACT ONE

Act Two

INT. KARAOKE BAR - NIGHT

The SINGING LAWYERS sing. We find the Host sitting at a table, watching them. Angel appears, joins Host there.

ANGEL
I need more.

HOST
(eyes on lawyers)
We all need more, darlin'.

ANGEL
More information.

HOST
(looks at him)
No. What you need more is a tether.
Because you're about at the end of yours.

ANGEL
Look -- I get how this works. And
I'm not asking you to rat out their
destinies. I don't care about that.
But getting to these Senior Partners --
that's my destiny.

HOST
Is it? Because I haven't actually
featured a destiny with you in it,
lately. It's all a little murky.

Angel looks away, frustrated, distracted. He's not here for insights into himself. Host watches him, reading him, then:

HOST
(kindly)
Apples for the teacher, Angelito.
Nothing more.

Angel looks at him -- huh?

HOST
You're obsessing about insignificant
details. All those messy rites and
rituals you've been crashing all over
town? They don't mean anything.
Nervous children trying to score as
many brownie points as they can
before daddy gets home. And I got
news: Daddy? Not impressed.
Anyway, stopping those won't
prevent "It" from passing into
our world on Friday.

ANGEL
What is "It", and how do I stop it?

HOST
(mimics Angel's cadence)
I don't know, and you don't.

ANGEL
Can it be killed?

HOST
(shrugs)
Most anything that can manifest in
order to move in this dimension can
be killed. Or at least destroyed.
Kinda the downside of being here.
Well, that and the so-called "musicals"
of Andrew Lloyd Webber.

A beat as Angel just looks at The Host expectantly. Intensely. Host looks back. Finally, sigh, shrug.

HOST
"The Band of Blacknil." Don't ask me
what it means, I don't know. I shouldn't
even be giving you that much.

ANGEL
Thank you.

HOST
Sure.

Angel starts to slide out of the booth. He pauses as:

HOST
(tossing it off)
"Home Office."

Angel looks at him.

HOST
I've picked it up from half a dozen
of them tonight.

ANGEL
What does it mean?

HOST
Could be the source. Who knows?
Now stop pestering me.

Angel makes to exit again.

HOST
Oh, I am picking up on one
other thing...

Angel pauses in mid-exit. Looks at the Host. Yes?

HOST
They'd really like to see you dead --

Angel follows the Host's gaze to see the table for Lawyers. They're all looking at Angel and whispering amongst themselves. We get the sense they've been eyeing him for some time. Off Angel taking that in and The Host sipping his drink --

EXT. LOS ANGELES - NIGHT

Flashy cuts take us to --

INT. ANGEL'S HOTEL - ANGEL'S OFFICE - NIGHT

Angel in full research mode. Books and parchments spread out on his desk. He's knee deep in it, but from his attitude, we sense he's not getting anywhere. He moves to a small shelf in his office, grabs another book, flips through it. Puts that one down, rises and moves to --

BEHIND RECEPTION

Angel moves to a bookcase. Runs his hand along a few books... then it's empty shelf. We GO A BIT WIDER to reveal only three measly books in this entire dusty bookcase. As Angel ponders that --

INT. OFFICE - NIGHT

BANG! The front door flies open and Angel strides in. Cordy and Wesley both jump -- well, Wesley as much as one can in a wheelchair.

WESLEY
Good Lord ---

CORDELIA
Angel -- !

But he doesn't so much as look at them, blows past --

WESLEY
May we... help you?

Angel moves to the back area --

WESLEY
Excuse me! Th-that area's for
employees only!

Angel makes a beeline for their bookshelf. Runs his finger along the titles. Won't look at Wes and Cor.

ANGEL
(flatly)
You took all the books.

CORDELIA
Yeah, well -- you got the waffle iron!

Angel seems to have found the title he's looking for. Reaches for it.

CORDELIA
Hey!

She wedges herself in between Angel and the bookshelf, swipes the book out of his hand, holds it protectively to her chest.

CORDELIA
No! You can't have that one! I'm...
I'm in the middle of it!

She slides it back into place. Pulls another one, shoves it at him -- the Yellow Pages.

CORDELIA
Here. Take this one.

Angel fixes her with a deadly cold stare.

ANGEL
Don't make me move you.

Creepy, tense beat. She swallows. Stand off. He means it.

Wesley, pissed the shit off, forces himself to a standing position, not without some pain, but holding it together.

WESLEY
Give him the book, Cordelia.

She doesn't yet.

WESLEY
(exploding)
Just give him the damn thing!
(recovering)
And let him get the hell out.

She doesn't want to, but nevertheless she reaches into the bookshelf, pulls out the book, slaps it into his hand. He turns and starts for the door.

CORDELIA
I don't even know what you are anymore!

ANGEL
(without looking back)
I'm a vampire. Look it up.

And he's gone. Wesley collapses back into the chair. Cordy stares at the empty door, shaken up but also pissed off.

CORDELIA
What a jerk.

WESLEY
Cordelia...?

CORDELIA
I mean, if it were anyone else, I'd
just say -- get laid, already!

WESLEY
Cordelia...?

CORDELIA
But him? Unh-uh. One decent boff
and he switches back to evil psycho
vamp. Which, in a way, would be
better for everyone -- better for him,
'cause then he'd get some, better for
us, 'cause then we'd get to stake him
afterwards.

WESLEY
Cordelia!

She finally glances in Wesley's direction -- gasps.

WESLEY
Ambulance...

A RED STAIN blooms under Wesley's shirt. Off that and his considerable agony.

EXT. LOS ANGELES - NIGHT

FLASHY CUTS take us from night to --

INT. POLICE PRECINCT - HEARING ROOM - DAY

Kate sits in this sterile room before a tribunal of sorts. Suited INTERNAL AFFAIRS MAN AND WOMAN. Some PLAINCLOTHES, including a LIEUTENANT. The ones running the show, the I.A. people, have several file folders scattered before them.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS GUY
If you have anything to offer in your
defense, Detective Lockley, anything
at all -- now would be the time.

Kate sits silently. Says nothing.

LIEUTENANT
For god's sake, Kate. Say something.

Kate looks absently over at the Lieutenant. He's supposed to be on her side.

KATE
What can I say, Lieu? They've
dredged up every ugly detail of
the last eight months. Spill it
all out on this table as if nothing
had a context -- and they want me
to "explain?"

A beat, she looks back to I.A.

KATE
I was doing my job.

A beat. I.A. Guy looks back to his notes.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS GUY
Actually, what it appears you've been
doing, Detective, is isolating yourself.
You've withdrawn from the stabilizing
influence of your fellow officers,
developed this morbid fascination with
cases of a bizarre and macabre nature,
and even you can't seem to give an
explanation as to why.

She just looks at them, offers nothing. Internal Affairs Guy keeps his eyes averted from her as he segues into this next moment...

INTERNAL AFFAIRS GUY
Your father... he was a respected
veteran of this department -- you're
the one who discovered his body
after he was murdered, is that right?

KATE
Yes.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS GUY
And the case was never solved?

Kate goes poker-faced.

KATE
No arrests have ever been made.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS WOMAN
That must be very frustrating for you.

A beat. Kate does look at Internal Affairs Woman, now. What a stupid fucking question.

KATE
(quietly)
I dealt with it.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS WOMAN
Did you? You took no personal time
off after his death, Kate. You went
right back on the job.

KATE
That's none of your business.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS GUY
It becomes our business when it
affects performance.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS WOMAN
Kate, it's very important when we
suffer a loss of this nature, that we
take the proper time to grieve. So
we understand... We want you to
know we're not judging you.

Kate looks at her -- and gets it.

KATE
You're just firing me.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS GUY
You stopped being a part of the force
a long while ago.

KATE
(vulnerable)
What am I supposed to do?

INTERNAL AFFAIRS WOMAN
We will, of course, make available to
you psychological counseling. At the
city's expense, as part of your severance -

KATE
You people have no idea what's really
going on in this city.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS GUY
Is this the part where you start to
talk about monsters?

Beat. Kate says nothing.

INTERNAL AFFAIRS GUY
We'll need your gun and your badge.

Sure sounds like "fired." Kate's stunned. She stands. Moves to the table. Sets her gun and badge there. Feels the eyes of the Lieutenant on her.

LIEUTENANT
I'm just glad your father's not
around to see this.

She has no response to that. Off Kate's demoralization...

INT. RARE BOOKSTORE - NIGHT

The proprietor of the shop, a now EIGHTY YEAR OLD MAN, who, if we look closely we might recognize as DENVER from "Are You Now Or Have You Ever Been" sits behind the counter of this rare bookstore. He watches a TV (we can't see the screen), but WE HEAR familiar SITCOM LAUGHTER.

DENVER
(deadpan)
She was funny then, she's
still funny...

ANGEL (O.S.)
You Denver?

Angel looms over him. Denver stares, registering recognition.

DENVER
I don't believe it...

INT. RARE BOOKSTORE - SOMETIME LATER

Angel is sitting at a table which is covered with open books. Denver joins him, bringing another one.

DENVER
You know you changed my life that
day. I mean, a vampire comes into
my place looking to kill a demon to
save human beings? Well, I figured
if something like that could happen,
then there really must be good in the
world. Changed my whole outlook.

ANGEL
Right. So you've never heard this
term before, "Home Office?"

DENVER
How'd that go, anyway? It was a
Thesulac, Paranoia Demon if I recall.

ANGEL
Yeah. I don't know. I think it
killed everyone there.

DENVER
Oh. Well. Point is, you tried.

ANGEL
(preoccupied)
Actually, I pretty much walked out,
let the demon have the place and
everyone in it.
(focused)
So we can't be sure where this "Home
Office" is, but you think the Senior
Partner is a Kleynach demon?

DENVER
Well, yeah... Sure does sound like a
Kleynach because... On purpose?
You just... turned your back?

ANGEL
Well, they lynched me.

DENVER
Ahh. Well. That's bad. Yeah.

After a beat of Angel staring:

DENVER
Right. Kleynach. Lotta dark
entities use the form of a Kleynach
to manifest because a Kleynach
doesn't have to rely on being
conjured or brought forth. They
can come and go as they please
with that ring...

ANGEL
Tell me about the ring.

DENVER
The Band of Blacknil. Simple thing,
plain. ya wouldn't give it a second
glance in a pawn shop. But it's the
source of its power to move between
the dimensions. That's what it'll
use to get here. And get back.

ANGEL
(struck with idea)
Get back?

DENVER
Well, sure.

ANGEL
Can anyone use this ring?

DENVER
How do you mean?

ANGEL
Would it take me back to this "Home
Office," or wherever it came from?

DENVER
Might. If you're insane! You
realize what this "Home Office"
probably is?

ANGEL
Think I have a pretty good idea.

DENVER
Hell, that's what it'd be, hell! Why
the heck you wanna go to hell?

Angel says nothing. There is dark purpose in his eyes. Denver regards him, getting it now.

DENVER
(horrified)
You're gonna try to go down there and
destroy the whole lot of 'em, aren't ya?
(then, brightly)
Well, that'd certainly make up for
the time you --
(off Angel's glare)
Still not a terrific idea. Suicide, really.

ANGEL
Will the ring get me there or not?

DENVER
I dunno. You gotta get it first.
And to get the ring, you gotta
kill the Kleynach.

ANGEL
How?

A crafty smile spreads over Denver's face.

DENVER
You happen to be looking at the one
guy who can tell you how.

ANGEL
(deadpan)
How?

DENVER
Well, to kill the Kleynach and get
the ring, ya need the glove.

ANGEL
Okay, now you're just making this up.

Denver rises, moves toward the back. Angel follows.

DENVER
Legend says the Kleynach came up from
their demon world, raped and pillaged
the villages of man, and all who fought
against them were incinerated, whether
they struck with fist or sword. But one
brave and worthy knight --

Denver disappears around a corner, still talking.

DENVER (O.S.)
-- he had a glove fashioned and blessed
by all the Powers of Light, and whoever
wore this glove could kill the Kleynach
just by grabbing it at the throat.

Denver reappears dusting off an ancient knight's glove.

DENVER
Picked it up in '75 at a yard sale in
Covina. Been using it as an oven mitt.

Denver offers it to Angel.

DENVER
And now I give it to you. No charge.
Because the truth is -- you did change
my life. And I got a feeling that this
time, things are gonna go --

But he's cut off in mid-sentence as BLOOD BUBBLES up out of his mouth, bright red...

DENVER
-- better.

Angel instinctively moves forward to steady him -- just as the business end of an antique sword comes poking out of his guy, someone shoving it through in the back. So hard that it now pierces Angel, goes through him, effectively skewering the two men together.

DARLA

Comes around the corner, having done the skewering.

DARLA
That's right, Angelus. Go toward the
bleeding mortal. Because that's smart.

Angel and Denver, locked together, topple over. Darla sweeps up the fallen Glove, smiles, looks down on them entwined --

DARLA
That ring's not about vengeance,
Angelus. It's about power.

Angel writhes. Darla gives him a sharp kick to the head --

DARLA
-- we'll get to the vengeance part later.

--and she exits. Angel slides himself, with great pain, off the bloody blade. Looks with despair to the now very dead Denver. And as Angel rolls onto his back, off his pain and defeat --

BLACK OUT.

END OF ACT TWO

Continue on to Part Two

Reprise

Part 2

January 15, 2001 (Yellow)

Written by: Tim Minear

Act Three

INT. WESLEY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Wesley lies on his couch, his mid section re-wrapped with new bandages, visible under bathrobe. VIRGINIA brings him tea. Takes care of him.

WESLEY
Well, I stood up to him. That's the
important thing.

VIRGINIA
But you couldn't have done it
metaphorically? You know, with
a stern word? You had to do it in
the I'm-actually-standing-up-now-
and-popping-six-stitches way?

Wesley smiles affectionately at that.

VIRGINIA
I guess before all this happened I
never really considered just how
dangerous your work was.

WESLEY
I don't normally require a
transfusion after getting up
out of a chair.

VIRGINIA
You know what I mean. Getting shot.

WESLEY
Well of course what I do is
dangerous. Are you forgetting
how we met? You were strapped
to a sacrificial altar as the Goddess
Yeskah was called forth from the
nether regions to consume you?

VIRGINIA
Eh. I grew up with all that sort of
stuff. Creepy crawlies and scary
monsters I can handle -- but guns?
Kinda makes it all a little too real,
you know?

WESLEY
Well, the gun was fired by a zombie,
if it makes you feel any better.

VIRGINIA
You know, strangely, it doesn't.

She nestles in next to him. He puts an arm around here, gently guides her to his shoulder. He wants this, and she lets him. They're quiet for a moment. In this position they can't look into each other's eyes. Her head to his heart.

VIRGINIA
Does it always seem like it's a
battle worth fighting?

WESLEY
Some less than others, I suppose.

VIRGINIA
Collectively, I mean. Most people...
they don't even acknowledge the evil,
let alone try to fight it. I don't know.
They seem to get along fine.

WESLEY
I suppose...

VIRGINIA
And they don't have to wrap themselves
in bandages to keep their insides from
falling out.

WESLEY
That's true.

Wesley just listens.

VIRGINIA
I don't suppose... you'd ever
consider... maybe... giving it
up? For something else --

Wesley doesn't need to consider this, but it takes a moment:

WESLEY
No.
(then)
Could you be with someone who would?

VIRGINIA
I don't know... but sometimes I feel
like I should be wrapped in bandages
to keep my insides from falling out.

WESLEY
This is... difficult for you, isn't it?

VIRGINIA
I just don't like to see you hurt.

WESLEY
No. I mean... breaking up with me.

She can't speak. Shocked, absorbing that. He knew it before she did. Off Virginia...

INT. KATE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Kate enters her lonely apartment. (A set we will need for episode 16.) She's spent, miserable.

She moves to her bar, pours herself a drink. Nearby, a shelf with her cop memorabilia. She moves to it, looks at it -- a trophy, her academy diploma, blue ribbons.

She lashes out, sweeps a crap load of it off onto the floor. Something among the rubble draws her attention -- she picks it up -- a framed photo of her father. She looks at it, full of emotion.

EXT. WOLFRAM AND HART - NIGHT

We establish this area of Wolfram and Hart: fairly bushy-ish streets with Century City-esque city foot traffic. And ELEVATOR, the kind perhaps enclosed in a glass tube on the outside of the building like at the Bonaventure Hotel, is featured.

A TOWNCAR pulls up in front of the building. A BODYGUARD, alights from the front, and the DRIVER, also a bodyguard, moves to open the back door. Lilah emerges. They move toward the building.

Suddenly -- WHOOSH! Angel swoops down from overhead, (from a tree?) taking down both Bodyguards. It's a fell swoop, and it's just one. Fell swoop, that is. He lands in front of Lilah.

LILAH
Crap.
(off downed guards)
I knew they were a waste of money.

ANGEL
I notice you're not parking in the
underground lot anymore, Lilah.

LILAH
It's not safe. What do you want?

He steps in closer to her...

ANGEL
I want the same thing from you that
I took from Lindsey...

He grabs her forearm. He holds up --

ANGEL
I want your hand --

Off Lilah, blanching...

INT. ELEVATOR - NIGHT

LILAH'S HAND, specifically her thumb, is inserted into a fingerprint scanner. An electronic voice says:

ELECTRONIC VOICE
Good evening, Ms. Morgan. What floor?

LILAH
Fifteen.

Lilah stands in the elevator with Angel. She eyefucks him as the elevator begins its assent.

LILAH
You know of course you'll lead
security wherever you go the
moment you step inside.

ANGEL
I'm counting on it.

He looks to the floor indicator. Winces a little from being skewered earlier in the evening. This isn't lost on Lilah...

INT. OFFICE - NIGHT

Cordy alone in the office. She unpacks some boxes. The PHONE RINGS. As she answers, she runs her hand over her mouth to make the word "Angel" sound like "ANGPHLMN" or some such gibberish:

CORDELIA
Good evening, "Angphlmn"
Investigations, we help the
helpless. How can we help you?

INTERCUT WITH:

INT. WESLEY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Wesley, alone in his house, on the couch, old black and white movie playing on the TV with the sound off. He's on the phone. Surprised to hear her picking up.

WESLEY
Cordelia? It's nearly nine o'clock,
what are you still doing there and
what in god's name is "Angphlmn"?

CORDELIA
Oh, just figured I'd get around to
unpacking some of these boxes --
and they're just some names I'm
not saying at the moment.

WESLEY
Right. Well, I expected to get the
machine...

CORDELIA
What is it, Wesley?

WESLEY
Oh. I just... I'm not really
feeling great.

CORDELIA
Well, your guts opened up.

WESLEY
I was thinking maybe I'd not come in
tomorrow.

CORDELIA
Again. Guts opening up. Not a
problem. It's not as if they're
beating down the door. No, you
should stay home. Spend some time
wit Virginia.

WESLEY
(beat)
Yes. And you, you should get out
yourself. Forget about those dusty
old boxes for tonight, kick up your
heels! You're young, single. It's
a Friday night in The City of...
Angphlmns.

CORDELIA
I'm not big with the heel kicking lately.

WESLEY
Oh, come now --
CORDELIA
Seriously. Working for a creature of
the night for a year and a half pretty
much killed my social life.

WESLEY
There must be someone you could call.

CORDELIA
Uh, no, because then I'd actually
have to have some friends. I don't.

She just tosses it off, but he's a bit stung by it.

WESLEY
That's not true.

A nice big fat silence on the line between them as that heartfelt truth hangs there for a moment.

CORDELIA
You don't count.

WESLEY
Thank you.

CORDELIA
You know what I mean. And if you
make me say something sincere right
now I'll never forgive you.

WESLEY
(after a beat)
Things are going to get better, Cordelia.
For all of us. You'll see.

She's not convinced but not in the mood to argue the point.

CORDELIA
I'll call you tomorrow, see how
you're feeling. Or should I not?

WESLEY
No, no. A call. That would be... nice.

CORDELIA
Okay. Goodnight, Wesley.

WESLEY
Goodnight.

They hang up. Maybe we hold on Wesley alone in his living room for a moment, then we continue with Cordelia as she moves back to the boxes. Decides, screw it.

She grabs her coat and purse. Moves toward the door. Just before she hits the lights -- RING! The phone.

CORDELIA
Geez, Wesley, zipadee-do-da, alright?

MOTHER (V.O.)
Ms. Chase?

CORDELIA
Oh. Mrs. Sharp...?

INTERCUT WITH:

INT SHARP HOME - NIGHT

The Mother of the no-longer-third-eye-girl is on the phone. We're pretty close on her, not seeing much of this house yet.

MOTHER
We were hoping you'd still be in the office.

CORDELIA
The back of your daughter's head is
still okay, right? Because it's not
like we offer a money back guarantee,
but then you never paid us, did you?

STAY WITH CORDY during the following...

CORDELIA
You do? Right now? No, that