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No Place Like Home (August 31, 2000) Written by: Douglas Petrie |
| Teaser |
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INT. MONASTERY - NIGHT We open on two pairs of sandal-clad feet - RUNNING hard and fast down a cold stone floor. Two MONKS, carrying amulets and candles, run like thieves down a dank, torch-lit corridor. They steal occasional terrified glances over the shoulder as they go, but they don't slow down for a second. Something is chasing them. The Younger Monk stumbles and painfully falls. The other Monk skids to a halt, rushes back, and yanks the kid to his feet. Precious seconds wasted. They run faster - toward a strange, unearthly GLOW coming from a room at the end of the corridor. They get to the door, scramble inside. And using their combined strength, they heave the heavy wooden door shut - CHOOM! - right in our faces, blocking out the light. SUBTITLE: TWO MONTHS AGO. INT. CHAMBER - NIGHT Inside the glowing room. The monks immediately grab hold of the door's telephone pole-sized wooden BOLT. Straining together, they manage to shove the bolt into its proportionately huge LOCK.
(Czech with subtitles) Uz se to blízí. Zabije nás to! (translation) It's coming. It's going to kill us!
(Czech with subtitles) Na nasich Zivotech nezálezí. Musíme chránit klíc. (translation) Our lives aren't important. We have to protect The Key. They rush to join a third, OLD MONK, standing alone on the stone floor with his eyes calmly closed. The monks hastily arrange their candles and amulets, and form a circle. In the center of their circle, an unseen object casts its powerful GLOW, under-lighting the monks' faces and suffusing the whole chamber in an eerie, unnatural light.
(Czech with subtitles) Pomoz mi s obradem. (translation) Help me perform the ritual. The three of them close their eyes and CHANT. But just as they get started... BOOM! Something BIG pounds on the heavy wooden door. So hard its whole frame shudders. The Young Monk breaks rank, opening his eyes to look back at it. BOOM! He flinches as another blow sends fracture lines rippling up along the length of the solid wooden bolt.
(Czech with subtitles) Soustred' se. (translation) Concentrate. The Young Monk concentrates. The three of them begin again, continuing their wordless chant as - BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! - The door starts splintering under the increasing impact. And CRACK! The door's hinges start giving way... The glow on the monks GROWS brighter, more luminous... The giant wooden bolt SPLITS... The chanting becomes not three voices, but ONE... A sudden, impossible WIND blows out the candles... The Young Monk GASPS... The glow EXPANDS, momentarily filling the room with light, then suddenly, with a sucking "whoosh!" sound, it contracts - and DISAPPEARS. Casting the room into darkness... And the entire door EXPLODES. Huge, jagged chunks of wood fly in from the point of impact. The monks turn to face the thing that's smashed the door down. As we FLARE OUT... EXT. FACTORY - NIGHT (DAY 1) We flare back in again - onto the grounds of an abandoned factory. Surrounding the place is a rusting metal fence with a sign reading "PRIVATE PROPERTY - NO TRESPASSING." We hear the sound of a hard PUNCH. BUFFY comes flying back into frame and slams hard against the fence, the breath knocked out of her. She ducks - narrowly avoiding a massive FIST as it rams into the sign, denting it. SUBTITLE: NOW. Buffy stands squared off against a big hairy BIKER VAMP wearing a leather jacket, chains and boots.
I've always wanted to kill the Slayer.
And I've always wanted piano lessons. So really, who's surprised we have all this unexpressed rage? The Biker-Vamp lunges. Buffy neatly sidesteps him. And when he turns to face her, she greets him with three rapid-fire punches to the face.
But honestly? I think I'm expressing mine better. Tell you what: The Vamp punches. Buffy blocks it. And holds him there.
You go find yourself a good anger management class... She whips a stake out from behind her back.
And I'll jam this pokey wood stick through your heart. She stakes him. Poof! Dusted. Buffy slips the stake back under her jacket, walking away.
Think that sets the world speed record for closure. And suddenly a BRIGHT LIGHT shines in Buffy's face. She stops, blinks, shielding her eyes.
Hey! The light shining on Buffy's revealed to be a NIGHTWATCHMAN's flashlight. He's no hardass - just a guy doing his job.
If you're looking for one of those rave parties, you're late. Chased a bunch of kids outta here last night.
Oh. Yeah, darn, and my fellow ravers will be so disappointed. (confidential) My turn to bring bundt cake.
If it was my call, I'd let you do what you want. Not like anybody's using the place. But, they don't pay us enough to argue with the boss, so... He gestures "out" with the flashlight.
I'm already gone. Buffy walks away. The Nightwatchman calls after her.
Hold it! Buffy stops, turns.
Take your... whatever this is with you. He reaches down, picking up a softball-sized, gently glowing ORB. Hands it to Buffy, who examines it curiously.
Right. Thanks.
Glow balls. (laughs) I just don't get your generation. I mean, what is that thing? Buffy walks away from the Nightwatchman, toward us.
I'll let you know when I find out. As she leaves the factory behind, we see the orb eerily underlights Buffy's face, not unlike the way the monks' faces were illuminated... BLACK OUT.
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| Act One |
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INT. BUFFY'S KITCHEN - DAY (DAY 2) Buffy readies a breakfast tray for Mom. French toast. Juice. Coffee. Buffy selects one flower from a bunch, places the single stem in a thin vase. Turns to get a cup. DAWN enters, yawning and scratching. Checks out the tray. Buffy speaks without looking.
Dawn! Touch nothing.
Jahvol, mein sibling. Who died and made you the Iron Chef? Dawn spots the flowers, starts trying to jam two or three more into the vase.
Look: Mom's sick, I made her a nice, non-instant breakfast for once, and I don't want you... Dawn keeps jamming the flowers in - tipping the vase, spilling water all over the tray.
Oops.
...doing that. JOYCE enters, still in her bathrobe, looking a bit rumpled.
Morning, guys. Ooh, check out the "pamper Mom" platter. You two do all this?
Buffy helped.
I didn't "help."
I'm sure you did. (sitting) And neither one of you's pregnant, failing, or under indictment? Just checking. Both girls shake their heads.
We just knew you were feeling less than great, so...
(nods) The headache they said would go away came back. And brought some friends along with.
What'd your doctors say? She pulls a prescription from her robe pocket.
Take four of... whatever these are a day, come back for tests.
So they don't know what's wrong.
Not yet.
That's unacceptable. We need a second opinion.
We need a first opinion first, honey.
Okay. Let's go now. Buffy starts to get up. Joyce just draws Dawn to her for a little Mom-ly hug.
Buffy, I know you're concerned, but don't be. I'm still the Mom, which means I get to worry about you two. And it's a good thing, because you're a vampire slayer and you... (squeezing Dawn) ...you're my little punkin' belly.
Mom! That's like, my kid name.
So? I can't be retro?
I'm fourteen. Nicknames like "little pumpkin belly" tend to flatline growing self-esteem.
(to Joyce) You ever have names for me?
(lovingly) No, I think you were always just... Buffy.
I got some names for you...
Wait - what are you two hanging around here for? isn't this Mr. Giles' big day?
Bigger than big. It's his "Grand Opening" day.
So, go! Bring me back a, I don't know, flying broomstick or something.
Those never really work.
Whatever. Book club tonight? Dawn nods.
You guys have a book club?
We're reading a heartbreaking work of staggering genius.
I'm in. What's it called?
(duh) "A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius."
I'll be back later. Your doctor's appointment's for when? Joyce just gives Buffy a look.
I just want to know! Take it easy. Feet up, plenty of Oprah. Dawn affectionately wraps her arms around Joyce's neck.
Plus you can check my rain forest report and you know there's like eighty badillion old board games in the... hey! Buffy grabs Dawn by the arm, pulls her away from Joyce.
You said I couldn't come.
Changed my mind. INT. THE MAGIC BOX - DAY Ding-Ding! The little bell over the Magic Box door jingles as Buffy enters. She stops, impressed. Takes a look around. We see what she sees: The place is fully set up. Mystical volumes, exotic bottles, skulls and bones and a wide variety of other magical paraphernalia all stand neatly stacked on display. A few things marked "On Sale!" And in the center of it all stands GILES. Proudly dressed in a purple POINTY WIZARD'S HAT and CLOAK, adorned with little yellow stars and crescents. Buffy looks at Giles. Giles looks at Buffy. Long pause. And Giles quietly removes the hat and cloak, setting them aside behind the counter. Ding-Ding! The bell rings again. Dawn rushes in, breathless.
(to Buffy) Told you you couldn't ditch me. (looking around) Whoa, Mr. Giles, this place is so, wow, I mean... check out all the magic junk!
Our new slogan.
When's it open? You know, for customers.
Since nine this morning, actually.
(angry, to Dawn) Go. Browse. And...
"You break it, you bought it." I heard you the first sixty times. Dawn goes off to browse. Giles and Buffy speak by the counter.
Not to worry. I have a very good feeling about this place. Magic's a small niche market, but think about it: Sunnydale. Monsters. Supply. Demand. Be lines around the block in no time.
(distracted) Oh yeah. Money, hand over fist. She hovers her hand over her fist, wonders at it.
Which, I guess is a good thing.
Buffy, are you all right? You seem distracted.
Slayer-wise, I'm tip-top. But Mom's still sick, and we don't know what the deal is.
She is getting medical attention?
Oh yeah. Got a whole, highly trained medical staff working round the clock to tell us diddly.
I'm sorry. But time and patience can both be great comforts in... Ding-Ding! The bell again. RILEY and WILLOW enter.
Giles! Where's your hat and cloak?
The hype was out of control.
Willow! You gotta see this, they have the coolest talismen. Mans. Talis-guys...
Actually, I've got a little scooby- centric deal to deal with first. She reaches into her knapsack and produces the ORB from the teaser. Puts it on the counter. The group gathers 'round.
I put it before the group... What the hell is this?
Appears to be paranormal in origin.
How can you tell?
Well, it's so shiny.
Found it on patrol.
May be more where that came from. I say we go back out again tonight.
Uh... sure.
(to Riley) You can't patrol. Buffy said.
No I didn't.
Yeah, remember? It'd be easier if you didn't have to look out for anybody...?
(covering) Yeah, but I wasn't talking about...
Don't worry about it.
(to Riley) She just said you look even cuter when you're all weak and kitteny, and she better go solo or you'd get hurt. So welcome to the club, she'll never let me go either... Dawn trails off, realizing everyone's staring hard at her.
What? What? What?
Giles, you got that danger room set up out back? I'm feeling the need for a little physical re-hab about now.
Of course. This way. (to Buffy) If any customers do show up...
On it.
(to Dawn) We're going. She starts to leave. Willow calls her back. They speak privately as Dawn lingers by the door.
Buffy, wait. Go easy on her.
Why?
I can't help it. I have all this involuntary empathy for Dawn, 'cause she's, you know, a big spaz.
Yeah but she's so annoying, especially now Mom's sick and Dawn's all over her, while I have to be the grown-up, and they're like the giggle twins and how come I never get to be the Little Pumpkin Belly? Beat.
While I don't feel qualified to address that last part, I can tell you, Dawn's not just the youngest. She's the baby. Maybe your Mom needs that now.
Like Dawn even cares what -- You have no idea how much I wish I were an only child these days. Willow looks at Buffy a moment to see if she really means that. Buffy does. Their looks is broken by the sound of a CRASH. Buffy closes her eyes.
Oops. INT. BUFFY'S LIVING ROOM - DAY Buffy and Dawn come in the front door. The sound of the TV can be heard coming from the living room.
...can't all be born with big fancy Chosen One reflexes, you know.
Shh. Mom? No answer.
Mom! Buffy enters to find Joyce lying on the couch, looking bad. Not unconscious but obviously in pain. Dawn rushes to her side. Buffy clicks the TV off, ending the noise.
What's wrong?
It's my head...
Come on. I'm taking you to the doctors.
No, sweetheart, I'm fine.
No! You don't know that! We don't know anything. Come on.
I just need my prescription. Please. Buffy hesitates - then takes the prescription.
Hospital pharmacy open? Joyce nods.
Ten minutes. INT. HOSPITAL - DAY A hospital hallway. Buffy bursts out of a door marked "PHARMACY." Examining the fine print on the orange plastic bottle as she walks up the hallway, barely noticing the gurney wheeling in the entrance, coming her way. The gurney's pushed by a three-person medical team, led by BEN. As they approach each other, Ben sees Buffy and smiles.
Hey. It's um, Buffy, isn't it?
(no clue) Um...?
Ben. But you can just call me "Man-Nurse" like everyone - whoa! The PATIENT on the gurney suddenly convulses violently. Ben tries holding him down, but even using all his strength, it's not happening.
I don't belong here! I have important instructions! Fascists!
(to patient) Okay, now you're hurting the nice intern who's here to help you. (to intern) Could we get a doctor here? We need nine ccs of phenobarbital in this guy now. Buffy calmly, efficiently strides to Ben's side, and with one Slayer-strength hand, holds the patient down.
Or not. Let's strap him. (to patient) For your own good, promise. (to Buffy) Not to be rampantly sexist in the workplace but, you've got some serious mus-kles for a girl.
Oh. Um... She backs off immediately. The interns nearly have the patient controlled.
Radioactive spider bite?
How'd you guess?
I'm a doctor. Well, almost.
HEY! The patient suddenly GRABS Buffy's wrist. The one holding the pill bottle. He roughly jerks the bottle to his face, as if reading the prescription.
Doesn't even help, doesn't make a damn bit of difference. Buffy starts to pull her hand back, then stops. Looks at the guy. It's the NIGHTWATCHMAN from the teaser. He's insane.
I've met this guy. He's not crazy.
If you say so... The Nightwatchman tightens his grip on Buffy's arm. Stares at the bottle, at her.
They're coming at you. Don't think you're above it, missy! They come through the family... They get to... your family... He lets go of her wrist. Buffy pulls back, dropping the pill bottle. Shaken.
(stunned) What do you mean?
Let's get him in exam one. Now would be nice. The interns wheel the Nightwatchman away. He's still looking back at Buffy, laughing now, his head twisted back at a painful angle. Then he's gone. Buffy's still stunned.
Sorry about that. Here. Ben picks up the fallen pill bottle, holds it out to Buffy. She doesn't take them - just stares blankly ahead.
For your Mom?
Huh? Oh. Yeah.
She's not feeling better? He puts the pills in Buffy's hand.
Not yet. She will be. She dismissively shoves them in her back pocket.
I'm starting to figure out what's wrong. And off Buffy's steely gaze we CUT TO: EXT. FACTORY - NIGHT Establishing. We hear:
(Czech with subtitles) Pane boze, pomoz mi. (translation) God help me! INT. FACTORY - NIGHT Inside the factory. Abandoned, second story. Warehouse-sized floor. Empty except for a few leftover press drills, some folding chairs, and a series of cement columns holding the whole place up. A MONK (from the teaser - not the old one or the young one - but the surviving one) hastily re-sets a fallen candle amidst a group of candles at the floor entrance. Good enough. He pulls out a Sunnydale MAP, frantically unfolds it, and studies the grids. Takes out a magic marker, and, searching, cross-references until he finds what he's looking for. He circles a spot on the Sunnydale map. Smiles, not able to believe his luck. Salvation. He hurriedly starts to gather up his meager belongings when... BOOM! He looks up at the enormous, industrial-sized steel DOOR at the end of the factory floor. Reminiscent of the door from the monastery in size, but this one's made of metal, bolted shut with mechanical locks and bolts each a foot wide. This door is unbreakable. Again - BOOM! The Monk staggers back as if shot in the heart. Looks for a place to run. There's nowhere to go. BOOM! The unbreakable steel door SHUDDERS.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! The pounding increases in volume and rapidity, as if a
monster's on the other side and losing patience. The door BOOM! The door comes BLASTING off its hinges and lands, intact, ten feet from the doorway, revealing not some hulking monstrous demon, but a GIRL. Real hottie, too. About Buffy's age. Whoever she is, she's a star and she knows it. Curly blonde tendrils fall all around her shoulders, highlighting her sharp red business dress and killer pumps. Stepping over the threshold of destruction, she claps the dust off her hands, looking annoyed at the effort, then focuses her bright eyes on the Monk like a set of lasers. This is GLORY.
There you are! I... Her lips part in a deadly smile.
...Have been looking all over for you! BLACK OUT.
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| Act Two |
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INT. THE MAGIC BOX - DAY (DAY 3) Standing beneath a sign reading "Shoplifters Will Be Transfigured," we see Giles neatly fold over the top of a brown paper bag, and hand it back to his first CUSTOMERS.
(smiling) Thank you for choosing to shop at The Magic Box. And please, do come again. They exit. Giles remains the very picture of the professional shopkeeper - and then the door closes.
Did you see? Customers! Real live customers! They came in, and I gave them things, and they gave me money and then they left! It's brilliant! Willow, studying a thick book with the Orb beside her, doesn't bother to look up.
Congratulations, you're now an official capitalist running dog. But I gotta tell you - on the Orbular front? (closes book) We're kind of batting zero. Ding-Ding! More customers enter. And with them, ANYA.
We'll just have to keep at it, then. (to customers) If there's anything you need help with, just let me know.
Your conjuring powder's grotesquely overpriced. Giles eyes the customers, who heard that.
Anya...
I'm sorry. But I'm nearly out of money. I've never had to "afford" things before and it's making me bitter.
And the change is palpable. That stuff doesn't come cheap.
Well you're getting ripped off. I can hook you up direct with the troll that sheds it... Buffy enters. Urgent. Makes a beeline for Giles.
Giles. I have an idea what's making my mom sick.
You've spoken with her doctors?
They won't find anything. What's hurting her: it's supernatural. She picks up the Orb.
The Nightwatchman who found this thing went crazy. Like, overnight. Something made him that way. Willow, Giles and Anya all take one giant step back away from the Orb.
Let's not taunt the Happy Fun Ball.
This won't hurt us, I had it on me all night. But this guy. Giles, he saw things. Said things.
Such as...?
They'll come at me through my family.
Who will?
I don't know. Yet. But whatever touched this guy made him see through what the rest of us are seeing. He knew. Someone's hurting my mom, and they're trying to get to me.
It's possible, but still. A madman's ramblings are not much to go on.
It's a start. We have to find out who's making my mom sick, and how. She pulls a book off a shelf.
Then what?
I hunt them. Find them. And kill them. EXT. FACTORY - DAY Establishing. We hear Glory's voice. She sounds weary.
You know when you think about it I'm the victim here. INT. FACTORY - DAY We see the Monk. He's tied to a chair, a la "Reservoir Dogs." He's been tortured. Hands tied behind his back. Duct tape across his mouth. Eyes watching something walk back and forth before him...
First off, I don't even want to be here. And I don't mean this room, or city, or state or planet, I'm talking the whole mortal coil now. You know it's disgusting. The food, the clothes, the people - I could crap a better existence than this. But okay, let's focus... Now we see Glory, pacing back and forth. As she paces, we see, out of focus, behind her, another OLDER NIGHTWATCHMAN. Tied up. Struggling. Glory pays no attention, continues:
And feel free to tell me if this next part gets too personal, I'm told I have boundary issues, but I am hurt - YES - by your incredibly selfish behavior. Newsflash, hairdo: It's not always about you. She rings around one of the cement columns, sing-songy, then stops, furious.
All I want is THE KEY!!! Nothing. Her shoulders sag, her body slumps, she's still standing but she looks like there are no bones in her body. She's a five year old who needs a nap.
Why won't you tell me where The Key is? She inhales big, about to sob - then immediately brightens. She just noticed something! She runs forward and jumps right onto the Monk's lap. Wriggles while she's there.
Forgive me, monky. I just get so, ohh, anxious sometimes like there's mmm, something deep inside me and it's swelling up and making me crazy and I just forget there's all this, nnngh, DUCT TAPE on your face... She RIPS the duct tape off his mouth.
Now tell me where The Key is... Digs her fingers into his eyes and mouth, like a bowling ball.
...or I'm going bowling. Eager, Glory leans in close and waits for the answer. The Monk sputters. She leans in closer...
(Czech) Z... Z...
It's okay. The stutter is sexy, keep it coming.
(Czech with subtitles) Z-zab-bij... zab-bij me. (translation) K-kill... kill me. Glory leaps up off him, crushing his nuts in the process, and screams:
(Czech with subtitles) Jsme v novém svete, tak proboha... (translation) We're in the new world now, so please, for God's sake... (English, no subtitles) SPEAK AMERICAN!!!
(accented english) I... I will tell you... (spits) Nothing. Glory's eyes well up with tears. Not fake ones, either.
Fine. Know what I wish? Hysterical, practically sobbing, she walks over to the tied up OLDER NIGHTWATCHMAN, drags him front and center.
I wish that you could feel what I'm feeling right now.
Lady, whatever you are. Whatever, you're on. Please...
(to Monk) 'Cause I don't know how much more of this I can take.
I have a wife. Her name is Jennifer. We have two daughters...
(to Monk) I'll bet this is fun for you! Isn't it? Say it, you like to torture me! Why? You don't even own the damn thing and I want it I need it I have got to have it NOW and you keep refusing to tell me WHERE THE KEY IS and... Glory starts to CONVULSE. And it's not a part of some act. A very real seizure is coming on and she can't control it. Somehow, it makes her just talk faster. Building...
And it's typical, like the big mortal meatsack comes complete with stink and bile sweat and protein yes I said HUMANS - Not now Mommy's TALKING - Wriggling, piling, plowing, crawling, clowning, cavorting, DOING IT over and over and over and over 'til somebody's gotta sit down on their tuffet and make this birthing STOP. And suddenly, she violently SHOVES both
hands directly into the sides of the Older Nightwatchman's skull
simultaneously. The hands don't shatter the skull, but they do
painfully Then, in a burst of swirling ectoplasmic light, Glory SUCKS the conscious life out of him. It streams out of the Nightwatchman's skull and pours into Glory's whole body. The Monk looks on, the lightshow reflected in his eyes. The light subsides. Having had her fill, Glory withdraws her hands and lets the victim drop to the floor like a wet sack. His eyes dart around -- clearly he's unhinged. Glory's better, but still wobbly on her feet. She leans against one of the cement columns for support.
Oh. Oh, that's much better. Glory's efficient smile returns and she faces the Monk again. Back to business... INT. THE MAGIC BOX - DAY We hear the noise of a crowded store and see Willow behind the counter, studying beside Buffy. Anya nearby. A CUSTOMER interrupts Willow, shoving an impossible-to-wrap HOURGLASS in her face.
Do you giftwrap?
(eager) Do we! (to Anya) Do we ? (to customer) We do. (to Anya) Little help... Reveal the Magic Box is doing booming business. Customers everywhere. And in the center of it all, trying to be helpful, is Giles - grin pasted to his face. Mild shock.
No, it's the ground cloven hooves that are thirty percent off - whole hooves, full price. XANDER enters, gets a load of the bedlam. Sees Giles.
That's um, not candy... (to Xander) Xander. There's, there's too many of them. People. And they all seem to want things.
I hear you. Stay British, you'll be okay. Xander heads for Buffy, Willow and Anya, shaking his head.
The thousand-yard stare. Damn. You hate to see it on any man, but especially in retail. Anya rings up a purchase. Addresses the customer.
Please go.
Anya, the Shopkeepers Union of America called? They want me to tell you "please go" just got replaced with "have a nice day."
I have their money. Who cares what kind of day they have?
No one. It's a long cultural tradition of raging insincerity. Embrace it. Anya nods. Yells at the customer who's nearly out the door.
(deadpan) Hey! You! Have a nice day.
There's my girl. Xander joins Buffy in her quiet corner of solitude. She's ignoring all around her, immersed in studying a big book.
You ever thought in a million years you'd miss the high school library?
Someone put a spell on my Mom. Something to make her look like she's sick.
That's a new kind of nasty. Any suspects?
Got the list narrowed down to just under infinity. Willow holds up a horribly giftwrapped... thing.
Does this look right to you? Anya takes the item, starts re-wrapping it as she speaks.
Sure, if you wrapped it with your feet. You know Buffy, there used to be this French sorcerer, back in the sixteen-I-don't-know- what's, named...
Cloutier?
(nods) So cute in his little knickers but he had this one spell demons just hated, called "Tirer la Couture."
"Rotate many foodstuffs?"
"Pull the curtain back."
A spell to see spells. Well, a trance to see spells, but, you get the idea. Try that.
What do you mean, "see spells?"
All spells leave some trace signature, they're just not perceptible to the human eye. In this case, it could be the image of a hand choking your mother.
A cloud of mist around her...
Or maybe the shape of the demon who's performing the spell?
Possibly. You'll have to take a mental picture. Cameras won't see or capture the image. Anya holds up the perfectly-wrapped gift, hands it to a waiting customer.
And that's thirty-two even.
Okay. So I'll just do what the Monsieur Silk Knickers did. Go home, get trancey, see what's affecting my Mom.
(re: Anya) Ladies and gentleman, put your hands together for Scooby of the Month here.
I don't know. Trances...
Yes. Buffy, The sorcerer Cloutier was legendary. His skills at achieving higher states of consciousness were...
Better than mine? I knew you'd say that, but we've been practicing concentration drills. I know I'm close.
But are you ready?
It's my mom. I'll get ready. (to Anya) What do I need? INT. BUFFY'S ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON WHOMP! Tight on the floor of Buffy's room as she up-ends a small sack, dumping a bunch of magic stuff onto the floor. Candelabra-type incense holders and a bunch of brightly-colored incense sticks. With Riley's help, Buffy starts setting things up.
Thanks again for coming. I totally appreciate the help.
Sure thing. So, what do I do?
Lots. Tons. Lots and lots of tons. This is all kind of, uh... She holds up an incense holder and a small leather pouch.
...new terrain?
(nods) All prayin', no slayin'. So, let's see... the incense needs to be "ignited," and that's a job, then this stuff gets poured round me counter-clockwise, and um, ...
So you need me to light incense and pour sand?
Magic incense and spooky sand. And, the ritual itself is...
Something you do alone. Buffy tries to think of a way out of that one. Can't...
You sure this isn't just your way of trying to make me feel less... what's the words? Cute and weak and kittenish?
Kittenny.
Right. Much manlier. Look: He sits beside her.
I really am okay.
I know...
So I'm not quite super-guy anymore. That was borrowed power anyway, I had to give it back sometime.
I know you can handle yourself. I just didn't want to see you get hurt.
Maybe instead of you trying to take care of me, we agree to try taking care of each other. Deal?
Done.
Good. He kisses her.
For luck. He starts to go. She pulls him back.
A girl needs more luck than that. They kiss again. A nice one. Then:
Have a nice trip. Riley exits, closing the door behind him. Buffy dims the lights, takes out a book of matches. She lights the incense sticks one by one. Buffy undoes the string around the leather pouch, opening it. Seen from overhead, she carefully pours a RING of brightly-colored dust in a circle around her. Sits in the center of it. Closes her eyes. And the second she does, there's a KNOCK on the door.
What are you doing?
My boyfriend! Now go away! Buffy tries to regain her calm state, eyes closed, when:
Liar. Are you doing magic?
No I'm not.
Can I watch?
No you can't.
Please? Oh please times ten and cubed oh please? The door starts to open. Buffy SLAMS it shut - hard.
No!
I can smell your stinky incense down the hall, you know. Buffy stuffs a towel under the door.
And your clothes are gonna reek. And if you are doing magic, I'm telling.
Go, go tell, go wherever you want... INT. BUFFY'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - LATE AFTERNOON We see the other side of the door. Dawn, looking hurt, just stands there, wanting to come in.
...just GO! Beat. Dawn swallows her feelings and marches off to her own room. Closes the door. INT. BUFFY'S ROOM - LATE AFTERNOON Continuous. Buffy breathes slowly, deeply, her eyes shut. DISSOLVE TO: INT. BUFFY'S ROOM - NIGHT Later. The camera roves around Buffy, swirling around her as the smoke from the incense holders wafts around her in spiraling tendrils... DISSOLVE TO: INT. BUFFY'S ROOM - NIGHT Later still. The room is now taking on an overexposed glint. Edges of furniture gleam in the light. We see that the incense holders are all empty. All burnt out. Buffy opens her eyes. And the world around her looks different. Surface edges catch light in a slightly different way. Brighter. Buffy's in the state. Testing the ground, she stands. Slowly exits her room... INT. BUFFY'S UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT Buffy walks along the upstairs hallway slowly, in a trance-like state. Everything around her shimmers, slightly overexposed, like an Oliver Stone film. But everything's where it should be. Buffy slowly heads downstairs. INT. BUFFY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Buffy enters the living room, looking for Mom. But Joyce's spot on the living room couch, in front of the TV, is abandoned. Blanket cast aside. Buffy looks around, searching...
Buffy? Buffy turns - to find Joyce standing right behind her, buttoning up a light fall coat.
Mom.
You all right? You look...
Going out? We see Joyce from Buffy's P.O.V. She shimmers a bit, like everything else in the room, but beyond that - nothing. No demons or mists or spell of any kind affecting her.
Either modern medicine's working, or I just took the world's best placebos. Either way, I'm heading out for a couple of hours. Buffy's eyes keep searching Mom, looking for any sign...
Nothing...
Hmm?
There's nothing.
Are you sure you're feeling okay? You seem a little... out of it. As Joyce talks, Buffy's attention turns to a PHOTO she can see over Mom's shoulder. It looks like it's winking at her. Something within the picture frame is MOVING.
Hey. Buffy? Closer on the photo: It's a picture of the three Summers women: Joyce, Buffy and Dawn. It looks normal - in its proper place - except: DAWN'S IMAGE FLICKERS. Appears and disappears and re-appears slowly, as if fading in and out of reality. Buffy and Joyce's image remain steady, unwavering. Buffy cannot stop staring at the picture.
Huh? Oh. Yeah. I mean, I'm fine. Long day's all. You, um, have a good time. Joyce smooths Buffy's hair the way she would a younger child's, gazes at her affectionately.
So grown up. Joyce leaves. We hear the door close. Buffy, in a daze, crosses the room and picks up the framed photo. Holds it close to her face, examining it. CLOSE-UP OF THE PHOTO: Dawn's image slowly winks in and out of existence. INT. BUFFY'S STAIRWAY/UPSTAIRS HALLWAY - NIGHT Buffy comes back up the stairs, into the hallway, heading for Dawn's room, face full of dread... INT. DAWN'S ROOM - NIGHT Buffy pushes back the door and enters Dawn's room. We see what she sees: The WHOLE ROOM FLICKERS in and out of reality. The entire room is alternately a typical fourteen year-old GIRL'S ROOM - filled with a bed and pop idol posters, or it's an empty STORAGE ROOM, filled only with marked cardboard boxes, stacked high. Buffy takes it all in. Turns a slow circle around the room, as the room itself shifts in reality back and forth around her. Slowly she becomes aware of a distant-sounding voice calling her name. The voice itself fading in and out.
... uffy... Buffy... Still dazed, she turns to see Dawn standing in the doorway. TRACK IN ON DAWN: SHE HERSELF IS FADING IN AND OUT OF REALITY AS SHE SPEAKS.
Buffy! Who said you could come in my room?!? Buffy speaks softly, in cold revelation:
You're not my sister. BLACK OUT.
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| Act Three |
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INT. DAWN'S ROOM - NIGHT Where we left off. Buffy and Dawn. We see Buffy shake her head and snap out of the trance state as Dawn yells at her.
Tch'yeah! Like I even want to be related to your smelly... Ow! What are you doing? Buffy shoots both hands out and grabs Dawn - hard - pinning her arms to her sides. Dawn struggles, in confusion and pain. Buffy gets in her face.
What are you?
Get off me!
You want to hurt me?
Let me go, you freak!
Then you deal with me.
I'm telling Mom!
You - stay away from my mother. Buffy half lets go/half shoves Dawn away. Dawn stumbles back, bumps up against her own bed, regains her footing. Long silence. The two sisters just stand frozen, both breathing hard, staring each other down a long moment. Then the PHONE RINGS. And keeps ringing. And ringing... INT. BUFFY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Buffy rips the phone receiver off its cradle.
What. INT. THE MAGIC BOX - NIGHT Giles is on the phone - holding the receiver to his ear with one hand while pressing the other hand to his head, blocking out the cacophony of noise around him. The Magic Box's business continues to bustle.
Buffy - I'm glad I caught you... I think we may have underestimated what we're dealing with. INT. BUFFY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Buffy looks upstairs, making sure she's alone.
Go on.
We've uncovered more than expected... INT. THE MAGIC BOX - NIGHT Continuous. Giles has a book and the Orb before him.
...about this Orb. It's called The Dagon's Sphere, and has a history that goes back many centuries.
What's it do?
It's a protective device. Used to ward off ancient, primordial evil. INT. BUFFY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Also continuous. Buffy paces, phone in hand.
Any word what this evil looks like?
Unfortunately, no. INT. THE MAGIC BOX - NIGHT Continuous.
This is where accounts get vague. All we've pinned down is that The Dagon's Sphere was created to repel... He pins the phone between cheek and shoulder, reads out loud.
(reading) "...that which cannot be named." INT. BUFFY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Continuous.
I'm going down to the factory where I found it. Whoever planted this doohickey's got answers.
Buffy, I know you've heard me say this before, but be careful. INT. THE MAGIC BOX - NIGHT Continuous.
Anything that goes unnamed is usually an object of deep worship, or great fear. Maybe both. You could face a level of raw power you've never known before. Have you... INT. BUFFY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Continuous.
...Completed the trance? Seen what's harming your mother?
That's the thing. I just saw... Buffy paces, revealing Dawn standing behind her. Eyes glaring, arms folded, undisguised hatred. Buffy doesn't turn - but she knows.
Yes?
Nothing. Didn't work. She hangs up. INT. THE MAGIC BOX - NIGHT Continuous.
Hello? Hel-lo? INT. BUFFY'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Continuous. Buffy faces Dawn. Dawn doesn't move.
What are you talking about?
Slayer stuff. Dawn says nothing.
I'm going out.
Do you really think I care you're the Slayer?
What's that supposed to mean? Again, Dawn says nothing. Just shrugs slightly.
I'll be home in an hour.
Mom's coming back.
I'll be back first. Buffy, never taking her eyes off Dawn, grabs her coat, heads for the door and goes out. We hold on Dawn, who hasn't moved, still glaring. EXT. BUFFY'S HOUSE - NIGHT Buffy comes rushing out the door, pulling on her coat. She gets down the steps when she hears something. She stops. Wary and alert, Buffy approaches the shadow of a tree by the front yard. Something rustles. Lightning-fast, Buffy shoots a hand into the shadows, grabs something, and pulls out - SPIKE.
Spike!
(a little dopey) Hi, Buffy.
Look, I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but... She COLDCOCKS HIM.
What are you doing here? Spike starts gesturing. Long answer alert.
Five words or less.
Out. For. A. Walk. (then) Bitch.
Outside my house. At night. (sighs) No one has time for this, William.
On your merry way, then. Contrary to one self-involved world view, your house happens to be directly between... parts and other... parts of this town. And I would pass by in the day, but I feel I'm outgrowing my whole burst-into- flame phase.
Fine. Keep going, I cut you a break.
Yeah, okay, let me guess: "you won't kill me... Ooh, the crowd pleasing threats & swagger routine - how stunningly original. I'm just passing through. Satisfied? I really do hope so because God knows you need some satisfaction in life besides shagging Captain Cardboard and I never really liked you anyway and, and, and your hair looks very stupid. Awkward pause. Spike leaves, having shown her. Buffy just stares after him. Too weird. Then she glances down. Buffy's P.O.V.: a PILE of cigarette butts lie crumpled on the ground. Buffy takes off. Overhead, we see a single light go on on the second story of the Summers' house. Dawn stands silhouetted in the window, silently watching Buffy go. EXT. FACTORY - NIGHT Closeup of the dented "PRIVATE PROPERTY - NO TRESPASSING" sign from the teaser. A thick metal LOCK holds the metal gates shut. A flashlight's beam dances over the lock. Buffy's hand breaks the lock with a length of pipe. Buffy shoves the gate open. Sweeps a look around the massive factory grounds. And lead by her thin little flashlight beam, she walks forward... INT. FACTORY - NIGHT The second floor - where the Monk was being tortured. But there are no sounds coming from inside, and no signs of anyone having been here in a long time. It's really dark.
(to herself) Little pigs, little pigs, let me come in... Buffy passes underneath the archway of the giant DOOR that's been blown off its hinges.
...Not by the hairs of my chinny chin chin... She stops - runs her flashlight up, circling around the perimeter of the doorway.
...then I'll huff, and I'll puff... She points the flashlight into the cavernous, empty room before her. Pauses. Then steps over the threshold, heading inside... INT. BUFFY'S FOYER/LIVING ROOM - NIGHT The front door of the Summers' house opens - Joyce walks in.
Buffy? Taking off her coat, she steps into the living room. Empty.
Girls? No answer. That's strange. Just a little cautious, Joyce walks in further...
Where is every...
Hi, Mom.
Oh! Joyce, startled, turns to see Dawn, who's holding a steaming china cup of tea. Joyce laughs, catching herself. Relaxes, taking off her coat and scarf.
Dawn. I must be getting jumpy in my old age. Where's Buffy? Dawn shrugs.
You don't have to worry about her.
Probably right. It's not like she's never patrolled before. Anyway, I was feeling kind of... what's the medical term? "Crappy." So I called off the big night out. Dawn holds forth the cup of tea.
Want tea, Mom? Joyce hesitates.
Um...
I made it for you. Dawn's still holding out the tea cup. Carefully, so as not to spill... INT. FACTORY - NIGHT Buffy walks onto the darkened factory floor. An (unseen) rat scurries off into a corner. Buffy's flashlight beam passes over cement pillars, stained walls, and finally comes to rest on a figure, tied to a chair, silhouetted. Buffy rushes to the figure in the chair. It is the Monk. Barely conscious.
Whoa. He lifts his eyes to her. As she hastens to untie him...
Hey. It was you, planted the thing, the... Dagon's Sphere, right? I have it. We're not alone, I've got friends who can help you. Don't worry. His eyes peer into hers. Trying to communicate something.
I'm stronger than I look. We see, over Buffy's shoulder, Glory, sauntering forward. Full of confidence, not making a sound. The Monk jerks his head to warn Buffy, but she's oblivious.
I've got some experience with stuff like this. Glory mock-whispers "Shh" to the Monk, mimes tip-toeing forward, having fun with it, getting closer...
And best of all... Without looking back, Buffy SHOOTS her hand out straight back behind her, catching Glory directly in the throat.
I'm not stupid. She whirls on Glory, facing her directly. Buffy's face is filled with contained fury. Glory's face is filled with a mild curiosity. As easily as you'd remove a stray hair from a sweater, Glory plucks Buffy's hand by the wrist, pulling it away from her throat. Then she effortlessly BACKHANDS Buffy with her full strength. Buffy ROCKETS twenty feet straight back. The only thing stopping her acceleration is the far WALL. Her whole body SMASHES painfully into it, leaving a huge dent and sending bits of plaster tumbling to the ground around her. Buffy, on her knees, looks up at Glory.
You sure about that last part? BLACK OUT.
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| Act Four |
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INT. THE MAGIC BOX - NIGHT A happy CUSTOMER, the last of the night, arms loaded with Magic Box bags, exits the shop. Ding-Ding! The bell rings as he goes. Beat. We pan over to see Giles, Willow and Xander all dead on their feet, slumped over or in chairs. The end of the day.
(weary) Would someone please rip that bloody bell off its hinges?
Would that involve moving?
My feet are numb.
I'll see your numbness, and raise you a lower back pain.
I think I liked it better when demons would crash in and tear the place apart. It just seemed so much simpler. The sound of the cash register rings. And rings and rings and rings. Anya, the only one still on her feet, goes over receipts. No fatigue here.
You're out of crystal balls. Those babies are really popular with the amateurs. Better re- stock and raise the price ten percent. Make it fifteen.
Anya...
Your receipt drawer looks like squirrels nest in it...
Anya...
And the Hand of Glory packs some serious dark power. You'd better institute a seven day background check for...
(exploding) Anya! She shuts up.
Would you like a job?
Okay.
Good. Then let's talk shop tomorrow.
Okay... (a little giddy) ..."Boss."
Way to go, Anya. That's very empowering. Dinner's on you.
Hey, any word from Buffy on how her spell went?
She said it didn't work. And now she's off investigating who left The Dagon's Sphere behind.
You're not worried about the Slay- Master General, are you big G? Giles quietly re-examines The Dagon's Sphere.
No, no, I just hope she isn't doing anything too rash. INT. FACTORY - NIGHT SLAM! Buffy goes face-first into another factory wall, putting another body-sized dent in it and sending more plaster to the ground. She turns. Sees Glory. Who just threw her there with no apparent effort.
...And another thing. I just want you to know... Glory grabs Buffy by the wrist and again - SLAM! whips her bodily into one of the nearby columns.
That this whole "beat you to death" thing I'm doing... She grabs her again - SLAMS her again.
It's valuable time out of life that I am never getting back. Buffy turns - kicks - misses. Not even close.
Wait, I've always wanted to try this. She grabs one of Buffy's arms in each hand.
You know, the thing with worms where, you rip 'em in half, you get two worms? Think that'll work with you? Buffy HEAD-BUTTS her. Glory staggers back, shocked. Holding her nose.
You - HIT ME! She BURSTS INTO TEARS.
Ow! What are you, crazy? Buffy presses the attack. Kick. Punch. Kick. Glory staggers back with each blow, never shutting up.
You can't go around hitting people, what were you, raised in a barn? There's such a thing as manners, you know and while we're on the subject, I just gotta ask, Blabberina, do you EVER shut up? Buffy goes in for the killing blow. Glory raises a hand and CATCHES Buffy's fist. It takes her no effort.
Fine - be that way. She SHOVES Buffy back, hard into a column. Buffy looks up and, impossibly, Glory is right there in front of her before she's even moved. Glory throws a punch. Buffy slips - Glory's fist punches out a huge CHUNK of the cement column, powdering it. Another punch. Another slip. Another bite out of the column. Glory just grabs Buffy by the throat.
Hey I just noticed something. You have superpowers! That is so cool! Can you fly? She THROWS Buffy clear across the factory floor, turns, smiles. Buffy lands, rolls, comes up on her feet - right next to the Monk. She looks back to Glory, who's walking this way. Buffy makes a decision. She picks up the Monk.
Hey. Buffy RUNS with the Monk - straight toward a window...
HEY!!! Hands off my holy man! Glory's doing something scary now - she's RUNNING straight toward Buffy, and for the first time, she looks like she's not playing. She's pissed. Buffy runs straight for the window - leaps - and CRASHES through it, Monk in her arms. EXT. FACTORY - NIGHT Buffy and the Monk painfully LAND, glass shards bouncing all around them, Buffy taking the brunt of the impact. INT. FACTORY - NIGHT Glory, in mid-stride, running for the window - BREAKS A HEEL. Hobbles. Stops. Goes back and picks up the busted shoe, examining the parts. She just cannot believe this.
Mmph! She STOMPS her foot, sending the floorboards rippling up in a line, like a shockwave passing through them. The shock waves weaken the cement support column in the center of the room. The column, already badly damaged, GIVES WAY.
Aw, sh... The ENTIRE CEILING collapses in on Glory, burying her in tons of debris. EXT. FACTORY - NIGHT Buffy and the Monk, looking like two soldiers in a combat field, make their way toward the factory entrance. Buffy's supporting the Monk as he staggers alongside her. She hesitates, hearing the rumble of the roof collapsing. Takes a moment to look back.
Stop. Please... She relents, letting him rest a moment.
We gotta keep moving.
My journey's done, I think.
(tough soldier) Don't get metaphory on me. We're going. Buffy tries pulling him to his feet. Nothing doing.
You have to... The Key. You must protect The Key.
Protect the Key. Right. I know, we'll do it together! Far, far from here. Buffy tries again, sees she's not moving him anywhere.
Many have... died... many more, if you don't... keep it safe...
How? What is it?
The Key is energy. It's a portal. It opens the door...
That round glowy thing?
(shakes his head) For centuries it had no form at all. My brethren... its only keepers. Then... He tries to point back to the factory.
The abomination... found us. We had to hide The Key... Gave it form. Molded it flesh, made it human. And sent it to you. Buffy puts pieces together...
Dawn.
(nods) She is The Key. Long beat as Buffy absorbs this.
You put that thing in my home.
We knew the Slayer would... protect...
My memories... my mom's...
We built them.
Then unbuild them. This is my life you're -- A coughing fit cuts her off. He's clearly fading.
You cannot... abandon...
I didn't ask for this. I don't even know what... what is she?
Human. Human, now, and helpless. Please, she is... an innocent in this, and she needs you. Buffy looks at him and for a moment he is totally clear, focused on her.
She's not my sister.
She doesn't know that. The power of that statement sinks slowly in, Buffy unable to answer. It is quite a few moments before she realizes she is looking at a dead man. She holds him, her eyes filled with a million questions. DISSOLVE TO: INT. BUFFY'S FOYER/LIVING ROOM - NIGHT Buffy comes in the front door, looking like she's been on the wrong end of a fight. She limps into the living room, to find: Joyce and Dawn, sitting side-by-side, each cuddled up in their own blankets, quietly reading magazines. Joyce has an empty cup of tea before her.
You're home.
(intense) I wasn't bothering her. Dawn tosses her blanket aside and heads upstairs. Joyce watches her go; turns to Buffy.
What's that all about?
Nothing, Mom. Buffy looks at her mom. Joyce is waiting to hear it. Takes a sip of the tea Dawn made her. Buffy just watches, then:
Just sister stuff. Buffy heads upstairs. INT. DAWN'S ROOM - NIGHT Dawn lies on her bed. There's a soft knock on her door.
Go away.
Come on, Dawn.
I said go! You deaf? Buffy enters anyway. Stands at the door.
I'm sorry. Pause.
You hurt my arm.
I know.
Butthole.
Really sorry. Dawn considers it. Then:
I tell you I have this theory? it goes where, you're the one who's not my sister 'cause Mom adopted you from a shoebox full of baby Howler Monkeys, and never told you 'cause it could hurt your delicate baby feelings. A small, sad smile crosses Buffy's face. She sits down beside Dawn.
That's your theory?
(nods) Explains your fashion sense and smell.
I'm sorry, okay?
Broken record, much?
Can't even take an apology. You always do that, ever since -- She stops. The memory is false -- the fact hitting her quietly.
I just had a bad day.
Well, join the club.
Can I be president?
I'm president. You can be the janitor.
Okay. They just sit a moment. Buffy reaches out and idly plays with a stray strand of Dawn's hair. Wondering about her...
Buffy?
Mmm?
What's wrong with Mom? Buffy stops playing with Dawn's hair. Sits in silence a moment. Then puts her arm around Dawn.
I don't know. And the two sisters continue to sit, alone together, in the silence that follows. BLACK OUT.
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