6x05 Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
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14 INT. RENTAL CAR. DAY. 14
In a car with black-tinted windows, ANGEL drives through the
late morning traffic, looking thoughtful from his recent
encounter with Buffy.
15 EXT. FREEWAY. DAY. 15
Angel's car passes a 'Welcome to Los Angeles' sign and starts
in towards the city centre.
SPIKE (V.O.)
Absolutely no bloody way!
16 INT. OFFICE. DAY. 16
Sunblinds down, this is a large office, a stripped down
version of the original Angel Investigations, with one desk,
one chair and not much else.
Stomping across the scene comes SPIKE, phone handset in one
hand and the rest of it in the other, in the middle of a
stressful looking call.
SPIKE
No, I don't care how many you think
I owe you, I'm not doing it!
(beat; listens)
Oh yeah? Well try this on, you
prat, stuff your job, and stuff
you!
He angrily SLAMS the phone down and THROWS it across the
office. Hands on hips, he seethes for a moment.
ILLYRIA (O.S.)
Are we still without a mission?
ILLYRIA, sat on top of the room's only desk, watches the
frustrated Spike, puzzled as to his reaction.
SPIKE
'Fraid so, pet. The only people
who'll offer us anything are low
lives and even lower lives. Right
now, I think we'd struggle to get
carpet stains as regular clients…
ILLYRIA
(looks down)
But our carpets are still clean!
SPIKE
It was a figure of…
(beat; shakes head)
Never mind.
Spike flops down in the chair, hand on his chin. Illyria hops
down off the desk and walks up to him.
ILLYRIA
So why do you sit there? Are we to
rot, languishing in this hollowed
out block of stone and steel,
waiting for somebody to take pity
on us and bring us a worthy
mission?
SPIKE
Since you put it that way… yes.
ILLYRIA
I will not live like this! I, who
have lived in palaces constructed
entirely from the bones and organs
of my enemies, reduced to begging
for table scraps from those…
(spits the words)
Powers That Be.
SPIKE
I'm starting to think of them more
as Powers That Be A Bloody
Nuisance, myself! Angel must have
had it easy all these years, nobody
wants to trust us anymore! Half the
town knows we were involved with
Wolfram & Hart, and the other half
is still working for them!
ILLYRIA
And what do you plan to do? Sit
here and fill the air with smoke
from those tiny sticks you burn?
Spike eyes her as he taps a cigarette out of its pack.
SPIKE
It helps me think. Your equivalent
seems to be marching up and down
and issuing eloquently-worded
threats to no-one in particular!
Illyria heads for the window, opening the blinds a fraction
so she can peer out.
ILLYRIA
So many lost souls… searching for
someone to help, and then rejecting
their very saviours!
SPIKE
Human nature. We'd rather suffer in
silence than cry for help these
days.
ILLYRIA
(in Fred's voice)
No more helping the helpless, I
guess…
Spike sits bolt upright at the sound of her voice, and
Illyria steps away from the window, as though surprised by
hearing that voice.
SPIKE
(cautiously)
Fred?
ILLYRIA
(hisses)
She is dead! You dare to insinuate
that she lives?
Illyria LUNGES at Spike, wrapping both hands round his throat
and lifting him off the ground. Spike struggles against her,
but her iron grip is too strong.
ILLYRIA (cont'd)
(furious)
I own this body now! No other! Do
not address me by that… by that
dead being's name again!
She drops him to the floor, and Spike lands heavily,
coughing. Illyria turns and walks away.
SPIKE
Wait… wait! Where are you going?
ILLYRIA
Outside. Where I know you cannot
follow. I wish to be alone.
She opens the back door to the office, and Spike jumps back
as sunlight falls across half the room.
Framed in the doorway for a moment, Illyria throws one last
glance at him and is gone.
Spike mutters as the door closes.
SPIKE
One of these days…
He grunts his displeasure and scoops the phone up off the
floor, dialling another number in after a beat.
17 INT. INDOOR MARKETPLACE. DAY. 17
Connor and Sonia push through a drape and into a noisy, dimly
lit and smoky indoor market. Various stalls, decked with
colourful shades of canvas and flags, are surrounded by
humans and demons of all shapes and sizes.
Connor cautiously eyes up some of the larger demons here, who
eye him back and GROWL.
CONNOR
You're sure this is the place?
SONIA
This is it. Our man's in here
somewhere, we just need to find
him.
Sonia stops by a stand of exotic-looking jewellery, manned by
a pale-skinned GIRL with red, plaited hair.
SONIA (cont'd)
Hi, we're looking for Corrin
Roland?
GIRL
Back wall. Can't miss it – follow
your nose.
Sonia nods, gestures to Connor and sets off. He catches up to
her as they head for the back wall.
CONNOR
So… you do this sort of thing a
lot? Head off by yourself?
SONIA
Yeah, pretty much. That's how me
and Taylor first got introduced. We
met over a sulac demon a year ago.
I was having delusions of grandeur,
thinking I could be the next
Batgirl or whatever, and he was
just settling down as head of the
UTF.
CONNOR
So he asked you to join?
SONIA
Yeah, it was either that or he'd
have just got me arrested. He said
I 'showed potential,' and offered
me a job. I still live with my
folks, though, that's like my
cover. Taylor says he likes to keep
somebody 'on the surface' or
something.
CONNOR
(smirks)
Sounds like you're a regular secret
agent!
SONIA
Yeah, cool, huh? Maybe one day,
Jennifer Garner and I can-
VOICE (O.S.)
And there he is at last!
They both freeze and look round.
Looking down at them from a small balcony, set above a plain
entrance, is ROLAND, the necromancer. He's a tall, imposing
black man, wearing a shawl of muted colours and dotted with
silver glyphs and symbols. He grins a broad, toothy smile and
holds his hands out towards them.
ROLAND
I wondered when the vampire's child
would walk through my doors, and
now this day has come!
SONIA
Are you Corrin Roland?
ROLAND
I am he. You must be the junior
warrior I have heard of. Come in,
I'm ready for your questions.
Roland disappears back through another entrance, and after an
exchange of glances Connor and Sonia head through the main
doorway.
18 INT. ROLAND'S HOME. DAY. 18
Inside is a small room, lined with uneven wooden planks and
filled with french dressers that display all manner of
unusual-looking items – lots of things in jars.
Connor and Sonia take a moment to look around, curious.
Roland emerges through a beaded curtain and smiles again as
Connor wrinkles his nose up.
CONNOR
(quietly)
That girl was right about the
smell…
ROLAND
Welcome! I had forseen your
arrival, I am expecting you.
SONIA
Forseen how?
ROLAND
The souls of the dead are connected
to this planet, it's timestream
past, present and future.
The strong ones are able to
perceive all things after their
passing, and one such as I may
communicate with them, and learn
from what they have seen.
SONIA
So… you know why we're here.
ROLAND
Indeed.
He strides up to Sonia and holds out a hand. She cautiously
places her hand in his, which dwarfs hers, and with two
fingers presses her wrist, checking her pulse.
ROLAND (cont'd)
As I suspected. You are in grave
danger, young girl, it will take
powerful magics to save you.
SONIA
Save me? What from? All I know is-
ROLAND
That you appear to be dead? No
beating of your heart? No need for
breath? Cold, clammy skin? A
general feeling of… fatigue?
SONIA
Well… yeah.
CONNOR
Look, if somebody's done this to
her, put some kind of spell on her,
or whatever, just point us to the
guy and we'll do the rest, thanks.
ROLAND
As you wish, son of the dead.
CONNOR
(beat)
What did you call me?
ROLAND
The offspring of two vampires,
creatures of the undead, one with a
soul and one without, conceived
when one was briefly human, a major
event indeed! You are a fascinating
being, Connor.
CONNOR
(suspicious)
How did you know my name?
ROLAND
The spirits talk. I listen. They
have much to say about you.
CONNOR
They do? So what do they…
(beat; shakes head)
Never mind. Tell us where to find
whoever did this to her.
Roland holds his hands over a small cauldron on a table in
the centre of the room, and after murmuring an incantation
steps back as a plume of grey smoke POPS from out of it. He
stares at it, as though reading a hidden message, before
turning back to the duo.
ROLAND
I hope you have money to travel!
SONIA
Why?
ROLAND
The one you seek, who has placed
this enchantment on the girl,
resides in the homeland of lost
souls.
CONNOR
Iowa?
ROLAND
Close. New Orleans!
SONIA
Oh, great! How are we supposed to
get out there?
CONNOR
(takes over)
Let me worry about that. Next
question – what's happening to her?
Is somebody trying to suck the life
out of her, or-
ROLAND
That's pretty much correct.
Somebody has enlisted the aid of
ancient voodoo magics to place a
hex on young Sonia, a hex that if
left unchecked will drain her
lifeforce, and then her will, in
short order.
SONIA
(freaked)
So… what does that mean?
ROLAND
It means, that unless you can find
the source and break the hex in the
next twenty-four hours… you will be
irrevocably turned into one of the
walking dead.
We push in on Sonia's shocked expression.
SONIA
(beat)
I'm gonna turn into a zombie?!?
And from Sonia's shocked look, we:
BLACK OUT:
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
FADE IN:
19 EXT. SPIKE'S OFFICE/STREET. AFTERNOON. 19
Angel's car pulls to a stop outside Spike's office block, and
Angel steps out, shaded from the sun by the shadow of a tall
building opposite. He checks an address on a scarp of paper,
looks round then heads up to the office proper.
20 INT. SPIKE'S OFFICE. NEXT. 20
Looking out from inside the office, Angel TAPS lightly at the
door, peering in through the glass panel.
ANGEL
Spike? Illyria? Are you guys here?
He tries the handle – and it's not locked. Angel cautiously
steps inside, still looking round.
ANGEL (cont'd)
Spike? Hello? Is anyone-
SPIKE (O.S.)
For the last time, you scaly
bugger, we're not babysitting any
more of your eggs! Not after the
last time-
Spike walks into the office from a back room and freezes as
he sees Angel. After a beat, he speaks into the phone.
SPIKE (cont'd)
I'll call you back.
He hangs up and drops the phone on the desk.
SPIKE
(folds arms)
What do you want?
ANGEL
I just came by to-
SPIKE
To what? To try and beg for
forgiveness?
ANGEL
No, I just-
SPIKE
(steps forward)
To see if you could worm you way
out of what you did?
ANGEL
Actually, I-
SPIKE
Or maybe, you thought you'd come
and rub our noses in it? Yeah, I
bet that's it, you wanted to see
how bad we're doing without you,
didn't you!
ANGEL
(patiently)
Spike?
SPIKE
What?
Angel PUNCHES him, and Spike reels back, shocked.
ANGEL
Will you shut up and let me speak?
Spike rears back to punch him, but Angel holds a hand up and
he pauses.
ANGEL (cont'd)
Sorry! I just needed you to stop
with all that accusatory crap for a
second. I just came here to talk.
SPIKE
Oh yeah, What about?
ANGEL
Everything.
As Spike frowns, looking Angel up and down, we cut to:
21 INT. GREYHOUND BUS. DAY. 21
Connor and Sonia are riding on a crowded Greyhound, the
Arizona landscape scrolling past outside. Connor is looking
out through the windows, but we pull back a little and pick
up Sonia, her mouth hanging open, staring blankly at the back
of the seat in front of her.
Connor notices and nudges her, and she jumps, blinking and
looking round as if just waking up.
CONNOR
You alright? You zoned out on me!
SONIA
I did? Sorry…
(holds head)
It's like it's taking more effort
to concentrate on anything!
CONNOR
Well, this ride isn't helping, for
what it's worth. We're coming up
short on in-flight entertainment!
Here, try some music.
Connor hands her his personal stereo, and she tunes it to a
radio station and puts the headphones on.
We get a brief burst of 'Zombie' by The Cranberries before
she yanks the 'phones off and shoves the stereo back at
Connor.
SONIA
You know what? I think I'm just
gonna try and get some sleep or
something. Wake me when we get
there, okay?
She shuffles round in her seat and wraps her jacket round
her, closing her eyes. We push in on her for a beat.
Her eyes suddenly SNAP open, and she sits up, turning slowly
to look at Connor.
He's slouched back in his seat, facing away from her. She
reaches a hand slowly out to him and starts to turn him
round…
And she SHRIEKS as she sees his throat is a bloody mess, and
Connor is very dead.
Sonia raises her hands, and sees they're covered with blood –
his blood! As she realises she's killed him, she starts to
CRY out, before:
Sonia's eyes SNAP open again, and she sits up.
Everything's as it was, and as she looks to Connor, he's
quietly reading a magazine.
Sweating and nervous, she throws her jacket off her.
CONNOR
What? What is it?
SONIA
Nothing, nothing… bad dreams.
Connor tucks the magazine away as Sonia rubs her eyes.
CONNOR
I think we'll be there in a few
hours, just relax 'till then.
SONIA
How'd you pay for two tickets at
such short notice, anyway?
CONNOR
Got Angel to thank for that. From
day one at Wolfram & Hart, he told
me he started putting a little
money aside, little bits of
expenses, stuff like that. I think
he always knew it was gonna end
there one day, and he wanted to
make sure was ready for whatever
happened afterwards!
SONIA
So he built up his own personal
stash? Smart thinking! How much did-
Sonia is suddenly wracked with a coughing fit, and Connor
puts one hand on her back as she doubles over, wheezing.
CONNOR
It'll be okay. Roland gave us that
thing to help find whoever did this
to you, right?
Connor fishes out what looks like a small pendulum, shaped
like a human hand, and holds it up to the light.
CONNOR (cont'd)
He gave us an idea of where to look
within a few blocks, so we'll use
this, find the guy, kick his ass
and be home by the morning.
She throws him a hopeful smile.
22 INT. SPIKE'S OFFICE. DAY. 22
Spike paces around, throwing the occasional glare down at
Angel, who is seated, watching him.
SPIKE
So that's it? You just waltz in
here like the bleedin' Queen Mum,
give me some half-arsed apology and
expect it to all come up smelling
of roses?
ANGEL
I'm just trying to be honest,
Spike. I owe you that.
SPIKE
Owe me? Owe me?
(laughs)
Oh, that's a good one, that is!
What makes you think I give a
monkeys what you have to say about
anything any more? You sold us out,
Angel! We were all fighting, giving
our blood, sweat and tears, and
even our lives to try and keep this
city together. Even when we were on
the run, even when we were losing,
we never gave up, not for one
second, and after one swift half
with Wolfram & Hart, you just make
all that go away?
ANGEL
(scowls)
I don't need you to understand what
I did. I just want you to accept
that I had to make that call.
SPIKE
Is that what they died for? Eh?
Gunn? Wes? Fred So you could bow
down before the Senior Partners and
say 'sorry, sir, I promise not to
do it ever again'?
ANGEL
(cold)
It wasn't like that.
SPIKE
Oh? Really? Well, here's news flash
for you – I don't care. You
betrayed everything we'd sacrificed
over the past year, and you may as
well have turned round and spat on
the graves of the good people we
lost along the way when you did it.
Angel doesn't hear the office door open behind him.
SPIKE (cont'd)
But, me, I'm a believer in karma. I
always think that you get what you
deserve. You signed away the
Shanshu, and at the time it seemed
like this great big injustice, like
the mighty hero would never get his
reward. Well, guess what, bright
eyes. You're never getting that
reward now.
ILLYRIA (O.S.)
(furious)
You… traitorous worm!
Angel is suddenly thrown through the air as Illyria PUNCHES
him and hurls him across the office. Spike cackles as Angel
SLAMS into the wall and then the floor.
Illyria marches over, dragging the dazed Angel to his feet
and hissing into his face.
ILLYRIA (cont'd)
You show your face before me again?
After you tried to give me away to
your new masters? Me?
ANGEL
I didn't… I knew you'd…
ILLYRIA
Enough!
She lifts him and THROWS him bodily through the office
window. With a terrific SMASH, Angel sails out into the
street outside.
23 EXT. SPIKE'S OFFICE/STREET. DAY. 23
Mercifully shaded from the sun, Angel CRASHES into the roof
of his car, groaning as he slides to the ground.
SPIKE
You… helmet! What did you do that
for? Did you just decide you didn't
like that window anymore? Who's
gonna pay for that?
ILLYRIA
It is irrelevant. The real problem
has been taken care of.
Illyria stomps away, leaving Spike to lean out through the
window frame and call down to Angel.
SPIKE
(smirks)
You heard the girl. I think it's
probably for the best if you don't
call round here again.
He leans back and walks away, leaving a cut and bloodied
Angel to pick himself up again.
24 EXT. NEW ORLEANS – STREET. NIGHT. 24
Connor leads Sonia by the hand through the crowded streets of
downtown New Orleans, the always-lively city buzzing with
activity.
Sonia seems to be having difficulty walking, her legs stiff
and occasionally dragging behind her. Connor tries to fight
through the packed street but gives up and gets the two of
them to rest outside a café.
CONNOR
Sonia, look, we're getting nowhere
like this, you can barely walk! Why
don't we find somewhere for you to
sit this out, and I'll go find this
guy, and-
SONIA
(slurring her words)
Screw that! You think I'm letting
you go running off and maybe
getting killed? Then who's gonna
help me?
CONNOR
(beat)
Alright. Let's try a different way.
SONIA
What do you- hey!
Connor grabs her and hefts her up onto his back, and she
locks her arms and legs round him, piggyback style. After a
moment to catch his breath he's back again, barging through
the crowds.
Sonia holds out the small pendulum, watching the movements of
the hand. She points as it moves again.
SONIA (cont'd)
Left! Down that street!
Connor turns and heads up another road, and we crane upwards
and dissolve from the scene to:
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.