7x04 Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
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7 INT. HYPERION - UPSTAIRS CORRIDOR - CONTINUOUS 7
Wes strides past and out of frame, heading downstairs with a
determined expression.
He's gone a few beats when someone steps out from round the
corner of the t-junction in the corridor just pas Wes' room -
and it's Illyria.
She wears a look halfway between absolute confusion and anger
- we don't know how much of that conversation she heard, but
she obviously heard enough to really piss her off.
She narrows her eyes, and with a stern glare starts to march
towards the foyer, and we:
BLACK OUT:
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
FADE IN:
8 EXT. COUPLAND HIGH - DAY 8
The school is surrounded by police cars, yellow tape and
several packs of people - more police, reporters, paramedics,
distraught students and their families.
Sonia slips unnoticed through the crowd, making her way away
from the school and over towards an alleyway nearby.
Spike lurks in the alleyway, using the shade of the building
to keep out of the sun.
SPIKE
Well?
SONIA
Just like we already know. Model
student. Whatever made him go all
Mickey and Mallory, we're not going
to find it out here.
SPIKE
My thoughts exactly. Reckon you can
sneak past the boys in blue and get
inside?
SONIA
Hey, it's me! 'Course I can.
SPIKE
Righto. See you in there then!
Spike takes a few steps back towards a manhole cover, and as
he lifts it with a grunt, Sonia slips away, back towards the
school.
Spike checks that no-one's watching before dropping down into
the sewer tunnel, and we cut to:
9 INT. COUPLAND HIGH - CLASSROOM - NEXT 9
An empty class, the scattered books and papers indicating a
lesson was in progress when the morning's shooting took
place.
One of the windows overlooking the school's grounds RATTLES,
then pops open as Sonia jimmies the lock.
She pokes her head up to check the coast is clear, then
neatly climbs up and into the classroom.
She takes a moment to check over the room, before heading for
the door and listening into the corridor beyond.
10 INT. COUPLAND HIGH - CORRIDOR - NEXT 10
Two cops are walking back down towards the main entrance,
away from the classroom, and Sonia waits until they've turned
a corner before quietly opening the door and stepping out.
Keeping alert for anyone nearby, she pads silently down the
corridor, following the spatters of blood and bullet holes
peppering the walls and floor to stay with the shooter's
trail.
She stops by a chalk outline, a sad look on her face as she
kneels down next to it.
SPIKE (O.S.)
I don't think they'll have much to
say, luv.
Sonia jumps a mile, and turns to see Spike casually step into
sight, lighting a cigarette.
SONIA
Can't you wear a little bell or
something?
SPIKE
Born to lurk. Sorry.
SONIA
How many police officers are still
here?
SPIKE
Not that many. They're all too busy
keeping any of the press and crazed
mothers outside from getting in, so
there's only a skeleton crew on
duty in here. We should be alright
as long as we don't make too much
of a racket.
Sonia stands, looking down the corridor and following the
blood and bullets.
SONIA
Looks like our little rampage
started somewhere down there.
SPIKE
(nods)
Air's still thick with it.
SONIA
With what?
SPIKE
Fear. A mess like this always
leaves lots of traces behind, stuff
your average human wouldn't pick up
on, but which leave a big flashing
sign a mile high to anything like
me.
SONIA
(beat)
You can be a little creepy
sometimes, you know that?
SPIKE
(grins)
Let's go see where this all began.
Spike walks on, and as Sonia trots after him, we cut to:
11 INT. HYPERION - CORRIDOR - DAY 11
Wes has his nose in a book again as he heads down one of the
corridors, almost walking straight into Illyria.
WES
Oh, sorry. I haven't seen you since
we got back from the-
ILLYRIA
(interrupts)
What did you mean when you said you
wish to bring Fred back?
Wes is busted. He closes the book, buying some time to think.
WES
You heard me talking to Angel, I
take it?
ILLYRIA
I remembered something I wished to
talk to you about after you sent me
away, and when I returned I
overhead you and the vampire
talking.
She steps forward, getting in his face, clearly not looking
happy.
ILLYRIA (cont'd)
Explain yourself.
(stern)
Now.
WES
Illyria, it's not what you think.
ILLYRIA
(snaps)
Do not lie to me! I have grown to
trust you, Wesley, do not make me
regret that decision!
Wes eyes her, Illyria clearly struggling to keep her rage
under control.
WES
I'll admit, I haven't been...
perfectly straight with you.
ILLYRIA
(folds arms)
As I suspected.
WES
I've been trying to find a way to
increase your powers.
ILLYRIA
(blinks; confused)
Explain.
WES
Well, we both know what almost
happened last time your powers
reached their full potential - you
very nearly killed us and everyone
within a several mile radius.
ILLYRIA
I fail to see how that is relevant.
WES
(quickly)
I've been looking into a way to
create a new shell for you to
inhabit.
Illyria pauses, surprised by this revelation. Wes waits,
hoping that she'll buy it - he's lying through his teeth and
things could get very ugly if she calls him on it.
ILLYRIA
A... new shell? Why?
WES
Isn't that obvious? I want to bring
Fred back, as I'm sure you heard me
say.
ILLYRIA
No, that is impossible. Her soul
was-
WES
(interrupts)
Destroyed when you inhabited her
body, yes, I know. But how do you
explain the amount of time you
spend in her form now? The
memories, the emotions, everything
you've been experiencing?
Illyria is now more uncertain, and Wes presses his advantage.
WES (cont'd)
I believe there's some part of Fred
still inside that body, and I want
to bring it back out. But to do
that, I need to give you somewhere
else to live. As Angel said, you're
a valued part of this team, and
with everything coming our way I
can't very well get rid of you at a
time like this, can I?
Illyria looks up, struggling to keep up with the topic.
ILLYRIA
But... how is this possible?
WES
That's what I've been trying to
ascertain. It's what all the tests
have been for. I'm sure we can help
your... spirit, as it were, pass
from one shell to the next, leaving
behind the body you currently
inhabit and allowing me to try to
recover what remains of Fred.
ILLYRIA
You... you would do that for me?
WES
(grins)
I think you've earned it.
A half smile crosses Illyria's lips, and she nods.
ILLYRIA
Then I agree. How soon until we
return to the laboratory?
WES
A few days.
ILLYRIA
Make it sooner.
With that, she strides past him and turns a corner. Wes waits
a few beats, then lets out a heavy SIGH of relief.
Safe this time, he opens the book again and starts to walk
back down the corridor as we cut to:
12 INT. COUPLAND HIGH - CANTEEN - DAY 12
The dining hall is a mess of upturned tables and chairs,
discarded and mushed food and school bags. Sonia and Spike
duck under the yellow police tape covering the doorway.
The students here panicked and crammed out in a hurry - more
chalk outlines mark the unlucky few who never made it out.
Sonia is following the outlines and bullet holes, retracing
the shooter's steps, as Spike heads over to one corner,
frowning about something.
SONIA
Looks like he entered through these
doors, stopped to take two shots
here and here, then walked in a
straight diagonal across the room,
blasting either side of him.
(shudders)
These poor kids... they must have
been terrified.
Spike is over by the food serving area, lifting up a scoop of
brown, sludgy chilli with a grimace.
SPIKE
That's if the food didn't scare
them half to death first. He was
probably doing them a favour.
SONIA
(scolds)
Spike!
SPIKE
Anyway, we're not going to find
what we're looking for here.
SONIA
How do you know?
Spike points towards the double doors leading out of the
canteen.
SPIKE
He started on this side of the
room, got right the way round and
then started to shoot, over by you.
SONIA
(follows him)
He was planning his route.
SPIKE
So we need to keep looking for
where he started. That's where
we'll find our answers.
He pushes the doors open and strolls through, into:
13 INT. COUPLAND HIGH - CORRIDOR - NEXT 13
Row upon row of plain green lockers line both side of the
walls, and Spike scrolls along them, checking the names on
the tags as Sonia joins him.
SPIKE
What was his name?
SONIA
Uh, Deacon, Alec Deacon.
Spike finds the relevant locker, and with a quick yank pulls
the lock free.
Sonia peers into the locker - it's neatly organised, with
books, folders and papers all clearly stacked up.
SONIA (cont'd)
I don't get it. This kid was... he
was a nerd! Nerds don't get guns
off the demon black market and blow
people away!
SPIKE
Not without a good reason, they
don't.
He leans past her and SNIFFS the inside of the locker,
rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
SONIA
What is it?
SPIKE
I'm not sure. Smelt it all the way
along his route, but it's strongest
here. Some kind of chemical smell.
SONIA
Drugs?
SPIKE
No, nothing I recognise.
SONIA
(wry)
And I'm guessing you'd recognise
quite a few?
SPIKE
(smirks)
One or two.
He spots something and reaches in to grab it. Sonia looks on
as he takes out a thick binder with a lavish coat of arms on
the front.
SONIA
Looks like the rest of the stuff in
there.
SPIKE
Not quite.
(points to coat of arms)
See that? Different logo to the
school and the rest of the books.
Whatever this is, he didn't get it
from here.
SONIA
(impressed)
You weren't kidding about the
Sherlock hat, were you?
SPIKE
Never fails, pet.
SONIA
Well, that, and the fact that this
kid was obviously no master
criminal, else he would have made
sure he removed anything even
remotely incriminating from his
locker before he went postal.
Spike hesitates, and Sonia smirks again, before the duo hear
voices and footsteps echoing down the corridor towards them.
SPIKE
Time for us to make like a tree,
pet.
Spike wedges the locker shut and slips the folder under his
arm, laying a hand on Sonia's arm.
SPIKE (cont'd)
Let's show this to the others. I
think we just found our lead.
They head off screen, and we cut to:
14 INT. HYPERION - ANGEL'S OFFICE - DAY 14
Angel sits behind his desk, leafing through the folder as
Spike and Sonia stand before him.
SPIKE
So it looks like our boy was a
night student at this Rochmount
Academy, some kind of special
school for 'exceptionally gifted
students.'
SONIA
He'd been there a few years and had
a pretty good record, if the
certificates and things in there
are anything to go by.
ANGEL
And you think this school's where
we'll find some more answers?
SPIKE
Like the squirt said, nerds don't
do something like this without a
damn good reason.
SONIA
There wasn't anything else in his
locker that looked out of place.
It's the best lead we have.
SPIKE
Some would say only.
Angel flips through the folder again as Spike and Sonia wait
on, then with a nod he hands it back to Spike.
ANGEL
Alright, let's go check it out.
SPIKE
(grins)
First, you have to say that I'm a
master detective.
ANGEL
What? Forget it.
SPIKE
Say it, or you can't come along.
ANGEL
Don't be crazy, I'm not going to-
Spike raises an eyebrow, and Angel glances at Sonia.
SONIA
Humour him, will you?
ANGEL
(huffs)
Alright, fine. You're a master
detective.
SPIKE
That's better.
(to Sonia)
Come on, squirt.
Spike heads out of the office, and Sonia hangs back as Angel
pulls on his leather jacket, pressing a hand to her head.
ANGEL
Are you okay?
SONIA
Yeah... just a bad migraine.
ANGEL
Oh. Uh, we've got some tablets
somewhere, maybe you could-
SONIA
(quickly)
No, no thanks. I'm all pilled out
for today.
Angel frowns, puzzled, as Sonia steps out of the office. He
follows her out as we cut to:
15 EXT. ROCHMOUNT ACADEMY - DAY 15
Establishing shot. A large sign in front of us proclaims that
Rochmout Academy is 'A centre of excellence for exceptionally
gifted students of all ages.'
Looking past the sign, the Rochmount Academy sits in the
heart of this wealthy Beverly Hills suburb, a tall, old
building that looks halfway between a Gothic church and a
modern university.
The Academy building looks particularly out of place with the
high-tech Los Angeles skyline framed behind it.
16 INT. ROCHMOUNT ACADEMY - CORRIDOR - NEXT 16
A TEACHER strolls down one of the long, wood-panelled
corridors of the obviously affluent Academy, flipping through
a file in his hands. He pushes a classroom door open and
steps through into:
17 INT. ROCHMOUNT ACADEMY - CLASSROOM - CONTINUOUS 17
The classroom has about twenty desks, all but one occupied by
a mixture of male and female students, heads down as they
work through a textbook exercise.
Another TEACHER is behind his desk, overseeing the class, and
he looks up as the first Teacher leans over and whispers
something into his ear.
He glances at the empty desk, then nods to the first Teacher
before turning his attention back to the class.
TEACHER #2
Attention, everyone.
The students obediently put their pens down and look up.
TEACHER #2 (cont'd)
I'm afraid I have some tragic news.
Alec Deacon has met with a sad end,
as you will no doubt discover on
the news later today. I'd ask you
all to join me in a moment's
silence to pay our respects to him.
The students lower their heads and sit in silence for a beat,
before the Teacher stands, SCRAPING his chair back.
TEACHER #2 (cont'd)
Now, let's move on to the first of
today's practical lessons.
The students look relieved as they pack their textbooks and
notebooks away, and the Teacher steps towards a young black
girl, MACY, at the head of the class.
TEACHER #2 (cont'd)
Macy. Would you be so kind as to
lead us in a short PK
demonstration?
(to others)
I'd like you all to pay close
attention here. Practical exams
will be starting in just a few
weeks, and I expect to find my
class to be sitting in its rightful
place at the top of the league
tables!
She nods, stands and steps before the rest of the class, who
watch her expectantly.
She glances at the Teacher, who nods, before she closes her
eyes and holds one hand out, palm up, in front of her.
Nothing happens for a beat - until a small ball of FLAME pops
out of the air and into her hand!
Macy opens her eyes and looks across at the fireball nestling
in her hand, and as she concentrates on it, it starts to
intensify, growing in size as longer fingers of flame lick
away from it.
The rest of the class look suitably impressed, and as a
sinister grin starts to spread across the Teacher's lips, we:
BLACK OUT:
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
FADE IN:
18 INT. ANGEL'S CAR - DAY 18
Top up and tinted windows raised, Angel drives his Mustang
along a busy LA freeway. Spike rides shotgun, with Sonia and
Kirsten in the back seat.
Spike glances over his shoulder at Kirsten, then turns to
Angel and jerks a thumb back at her.
SPIKE
Remind me why she's here?
KIRSTEN
'She' has a name, Spike.
SPIKE
(ignores her)
I mean, don't get me wrong, we're
all thankful that she brought you
on the first train back from La La
Land...
(beat)
... well, everyone else is glad,
anyway. Point is - she's a rookie.
This could be a tricky one, and I
don't fancy babysitting the new
girl if this all goes tits up.
KIRSTEN
Aren't you forgetting when I saved
all your asses with that schicksal
demon a few weeks back?
SPIKE
Beginner's luck. Besides, we'd
already done most of the hard work.
You just held that glowing ball
thing Wes brought along.
KIRSTEN
(protests)
I shot it in the head!
SPIKE
I'd have gotten to it eventually.
Kirsten scowls at him, but it bounces right off Spike.
ANGEL
She's here because she's a part of
the team, Spike.
SPIKE
Yeah, and she used to be part of
someone else's team, remember?
Starts with Big, ends in Bad?
ANGEL
Kirsten wants to bring down Wolfram
and Hart just as much as we do.
(to Kirsten)
Right?
KIRSTEN
Couldn't have said it better.
ANGEL
So I want to make sure she knows
how we work. Something big's on its
way, Spike, we need all the help we
can get.
Spike looks back at Kirsten, who smirks smugly at him, and
with an irritated huff he settles back down in his seat.
SONIA
Take the next left onto Fairfax
Avenue, the Academy's just coming
up on our left.
Angel turns the wheel, and after a few moments pulls the car
to a stop as the gang look over to a building across the
street.
The Rochmount Academy sits in the heart of this wealthy
Beverly Hills suburb, a tall, old building that looks halfway
between a Gothic church and a modern university.
SONIA (cont'd)
That's the place.
She consults the folder in her hands.
SONIA (cont'd)
(reads)
'Rochmount Academy is a home for
excellence in all fields of
education, from physical to mental,
and all of our graduates are
virtually guaranteed positions of
influence and responsibility in the
economic world when they leave our
institution.'
SPIKE
Looks like a bloody Gulag for the
offspring of the yuppie generation.
ANGEL
If you two are right, this is where
we'll find out why that kid took a
shotgun to his classmates.
KIRSTEN
What's the plan?
ANGEL
Wait until nightfall, go take a
look around.
KIRSTEN
Right.
(beat)
So who's hungry?
Spike looks to Angel and raises a skeptical eyebrow, as we
cut to:
19 EXT. ROCHMOUNT ACADEMY - NIGHT 19
It's a few hours later now, and the Mustang stays in place
across the street, the team inside observing the Academy.
The car's doors open and the foursome step out, Angel looking
up and down the street. Spike heads to the boot, popping it
open and taking out a sword.
SONIA
How come Wes and Illyria couldn't
come along?
ANGEL
They were busy over at the-
(sees weapons)
Hey, woah, woah - what are you
doing?
SPIKE
Getting something sharp.
ANGEL
We're just on reconnaissance,
Spike. We don't need weapons.
SPIKE
Oh really? And what happens if we
run into another gun-toting
bookworm who doesn't like the look
of us? Are you going to bravely
soak up the gunfire while the rest
of us try to reason with him?
ANGEL
(beat)
Just take something subtle.
Spike grins and reaches back into the car, taking out another
sword and passing it to Kirsten. She shakes her head.
KIRSTEN
No thanks.
SPIKE
What's wrong? Scared of getting
your hands dirty?
KIRSTEN
No, I just don't do medieval.
SPIKE
(shrugs)
Suit yourself.
He tosses the sword back inside and SLAMS the car door. Angel
winces as the sound echoes up and down the street.
SPIKE (cont'd)
Right. Are we off then?
He and Angel lead the way as the team head across the street.
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.