buffy9x05
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
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TEASER
FADE IN:
1 INT. RESTAURANT. NIGHT. 1
We're looking in on an upmarket Cleveland restaurant as the
place winds down for the evening – there are only a few
tables left and the waiters are hovering, ready to clean up
and go home.
We pick up the closest couple, a stony-faced, middle-aged
husband and wife, HENRY and DONNA, who look like tonight
wasn't easy for either of them.
The wife gets her coat as the husband calls the waiter over
and pays the bill.
2 EXT. STREET/RESTAURANT. NIGHT. 2
The couple leave, Donna pulling her coat tight against the
chill evening air as Henry looks up and down the street for a
cab. Donna huffs impatiently.
DONNA
Henry! Do you want me to freeze on
the kerb here, or are you actually
going to call me a cab?
HENRY
I'm trying, Donna, honey, be
patient!
He waves frantically at a yellow cab that sails straight past
them. Donna huffs and looks up and down the street.
From inside a small park a few dozen yards away, someone is
looking out at the couple from behind a row of trees. The
camera is shaky as the viewer tries to keep the couple in
view, with heavy, ragged breathing.
There is a brief shot of a distinctly unfriendly-looking pair
of eyes glaring out at us.
Back with the couple, Henry tries and fails again to flag
down a cab, and with a grunt of annoyance Donna starts
walking. Henry starts to jog after her.
HENRY (cont'd)
Donna? Where are you going?
DONNA
What does it look like I'm doing?
I'm walking home, and then I'm
taking the cab fare I should have
paid out of your wallet when I get
there!
HENRY
Come on, just give me another-
DONNA
(icily)
Forget it! Good night, Henry.
Thanks for dinner.
Henry watches helplessly as Donna marches away, before
rubbing the back of his balding head and staying on the kerb,
watching the traffic.
Our mystery watcher starts to track Donna, slipping between
the trees to keep her in sight. She's close enough to reach
out and touch, but she's oblivious to the attention.
3 EXT. DARK STREET. NIGHT. 3
Turning off the main street and down a side avenue, Donna
walks on, muttering under her breath about Henry.
She's not been walking long when she slows to a stop and
looks round behind her, frowning – nothing but closed shop
fronts and dark, empty buildings.
Donna starts again, looking a little more wary this time.
Close up with the watcher's eyes as he tracks Donna, sticking
to the shadows and staying close to her. Donna stops at
another street corner and tries to light a cigarette, cursing
as her lighter flame splutters.
The stalker nears her, her back is turned and she doesn't see
his hand reaching out to her - until she finally turns and
YELLS in shock.
We see our stalker at last – a nondescript man in his late
twenties, features shaded by a baseball cap. He steps back,
hands up defensively.
MAN
Oh! Oh, gosh, sorry, ma'am, didn't
mean to scare you!
DONNA
Well, you did scare me! What are
you trying to do, sneaking up on
people like that?
MAN
Oh, I just wanted to, uh, well, you
looked like you needed, er…
DONNA
Needed what?
The man holds out a lighter, and after a suspicious glance at
him, Donna leans forward as he sparks the lighter and gets
her cigarette going.
His features are briefly illuminated by the flame, but only
for a moment. He clicks the lighter off and starts to walk
away from her.
DONNA (cont'd)
Thanks.
MAN
No problem, miss.
The man as he walks back up the avenue. In the background,
Donna finally hails a cab and gets inside.
4 EXT. STREET. NIGHT. 4
A grumpy Henry walks down the street, pausing under a
flickering street lamp overhead as he steps in something.
Muttering, he lifts his shoe to check the sole. He doesn't
see the Man who was just stalking his wife standing silently
only a few feet away.
Henry stands again and starts walking, but he only gets a few
feet before the Man suddenly races up and grabs him, clamping
one hand across his mouth as he yells.
We pull back and away as the Man drags Henry backwards, into
a pitch black alleyway and out of sight.
There are the sounds of a struggle for another few moments,
and then a strangled SCREAM from Henry, that is cut off
suddenly.
BLACK OUT:
END OF TEASER
ACT ONE
FADE IN:
5 EXT. ALLEYWAY. MORNING. 5
The last resting place of Henry is displayed for us. The poor
man is slumped on the alley floor, very much dead. Police
crime scene tape cordons the alley off, and as the scene
FLASHES from a forensics' camera, we pick up JACKSON and his
partner DAN, the latter scribbling in his notebook as Jackson
survey's the murder.
DAN
… and the last contact anyone had
with him was when he left the
restaurant with his wife at around
eleven-fifteen last night.
Jackson squats down to take a closer look at Henry, who is
managing to look startled even in death.
JACKSON
Why weren't they together?
DAN
Probably had a fight over
something. The restaurant staff
said they seemed pretty sombre all
night. Proving that despite claims
to the contrary about their
intelligence, waiters can freely
use words like 'sombre.'
Jackson doesn't grin at the joke, and Dan rolls his eyes and
steps over.
DAN (cont'd)
Okay, that one sucked. But come on,
Jacks, first kill of the day and
it's not even donut o'clock yet!
JACKSON
(not listening)
Take a look at these wounds.
DAN
Very messy. So what? Killer was
probably in a hurry. This whole
scene doesn't exactly suggest a
slow, methodical type.
JACKSON
(thoughtful)
Even so… there's something
deliberate about this.
It looks like he just hacked away
and left him there, but there's
something else. There was a point
to it all.
Jackson stands, looking up at the wall behind the body.
Written crudely in blood are the words 'One by one, they all
shall open… and we all shall fall.' The wall FLASHES as a
photo is taken of it. Jackson taps the cameraman on the
shoulder.
JACKSON (cont'd)
Can I get a copy of that when
you're done? Thanks.
DAN
So what, we've got a killer who
watched too many episodes of
'Millennium' and is trying to make
a name for himself?
JACKSON
I'm not sure yet. Let's see what
the forensics pull up. Something
tells me if this guy hasn't killed
before, he will again. And soon.
His face serious, Jackson walks away, leaving Dan to puzzle
over the message on the wall.
6 INT. SUMMERS RESIDENCE - KITCHEN. MORNING. 6
It's breakfast time in BUFFY's house, and here's the girl
herself, coffee in one hand, toast in the other as she idly
watches the kitchen TV.
TV NEWS
In other news, police were
investigating the scene of a
gruesome murder today in downtown
Cleveland, which left local
businessman Henry Morecambe dead
after a vicious attack at around
eleven p.m. last night.
Buffy looks up as ANDREW enters the kitchen. They nod a
greeting as he heads for the fridge, before Andrew joins her
in watching the TV.
ANDREW
What happened?
BUFFY
Some guy got himself dead last
night. Looks pretty-
Buffy pauses, craning forward and squinting at the TV.
Looking at the screen, we see that Buffy was trying to make
out if she could see Jackson at the scene – and then there he
is, giving a statement to the police.
JACKSON
This is a serious homicide, and
will be given the full weight of
the police's investigation
accordingly. This guy won't get a
chance to do something like this
again.
Buffy nods, impressed.
BUFFY
Check out the big important police
guy!
ANDREW
Jackson?
BUFFY
Looks like he's not doing too bad
for himself, good to see him
getting on with the workload again.
And speaking of workload…
(checks watch)
Time I headed off. Now, do you
remember what you have to say?
ANDREW
Um… here's the scroll, it's a
prophecy about the Slayer. Angel
gave Buffy one.
Andrew doesn't notice his innuendo. Sadly, Buffy does.
BUFFY
Almost… Look, Giles should be
getting here in a few hours, so you
wait here and make sure he gets
onto this as soon as he's through
that door, okay? You know me and
the prophecies, always like to keep
one step ahead.
(beat)
Even though they're technically one
step ahead of me… never mind.
Buffy grabs her briefcase and leaves, a half piece of toast
clamped between her teeth as she pulls on her jacket.
Andrew settles down to watch some more TV, waiting until he
hears the door close before surreptitiously flicking to a
cheesy pop music channel.
7 INT. CHARLESTON & SMITHE – CORRIDOR. MORNING. 7
KANE is striding down the main corridor when Buffy barges
into him, spilling the folders he was carrying to the ground.
Buffy gasps and kneels to retrieve them.
BUFFY
Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Kane! I was just-
KANE
Running late and trying to dash to
your office before I checked on
you?
BUFFY
(grins)
Busted. There was this really bad
truck, and he was-
KANE
Relax, Miss Summers. I'm not about
to fire every employee who's a
little late, I'd rapidly run out of
staff and be forced to put people
like your friend Anya into the
counsellor positions.
BUFFY
And we wouldn't want that, huh?
Buffy has gathered up most of the files, when something
catches her eye.
We get a brief shot of what look like blueprint schematics
for some kind of armoured vehicle before Kane snatches them
back up and tucks them into his folder.
KANE
Well! This little diversion
notwithstanding, I'd better not
keep you anymore. Your ten o'clock
client is already here, I believe.
BUFFY
Uh, thanks.
Buffy watches him go, trying to work out what those plans
could be about. After a moment, she frowns and leaves it till
later, heading towards her office.
8 INT. CLEVELAND PD – JACKSON'S OFFICE. MORNING. 8
Jackson is on his computer, busily typing away as Dan enters,
two coffees in his hands.
DAN
Espresso express, Officer Shaw!
Dan hands Jackson one cup and peers at his screen. Jackson is
on the website for what looks like a conspiracy theorist's
home page, scrolling down many photos of writing sprayed on
walls, similar to the scene in the alley.
DAN (cont'd)
Alright, you got me. What's all
this?
JACKSON
An idea I had. There's a few sites
that collect information about
stuff like this, you know, cryptic
messages left at crime scenes. It's
not ideal, but with a bit of luck
I'll either find a match or at
least something similar, maybe
suggest a pattern.
Jackson scrolls a little further down the page before Dan
suddenly points to something on screen.
DAN
Hey, wait, stop! Back up. That one,
left hand side.
Jackson clicks on the smaller image to bring it up – it's
another alley wall, and the same message, though this time
spray-painted in white.
DAN (cont'd)
Whaddya know… looks like you're not
as crazy as they all say after all!
JACKSON
(beat)
Who says I'm crazy?
DAN
Everyone does!
JACKSON
(shakes head)
Crazy or not, this is a lead. I've
been on this thing for two hours,
so let's save this and see if we
can't track down where it came
from.
As Jackson turns on his printer and starts to make a copy of
the photo on screen, we cut back to:
9 INT. CHARLESTON & SMITHE – BUFFY'S OFFICE. MORNING. 9
Buffy looks thoroughly fed up as she sits on the couch in one
corner of her office, with the constantly-chattering
CHRISTINA opposite her.
Christina is short and dumpy with unflattering brown hair,
and seems determined to talk regardless of whether Buffy is
listening or not.
CHRISTINA
But she said, she said, like she
did all the other times, she said,
'Hey, Christina!' and I was like
'what?' and she was all 'You're
going down after class, freak!' and
all her stupid friends, they were-
BUFFY
Christina, stop. Breathe. Okay?
Look, we're here to help you try
and work out why everyone calls you
a freak, but for the last twenty
minutes all you've done is reel off
a list of what insults you've had
thrown at you at school!
CHRISTINA
So… what, like, you think I'm the
one with the problem?
BUFFY
No offence, kid, but you're the one
on the couch.
Christina folds her arms and pouts for a moment, before
rolling her eyes and sitting upright again.
BUFFY (cont'd)
I'm trying to help. You told me you
don't know why everyone keeps
hassling you, let's see if we can
work out why. Then you've got
something you understand about
yourself that can't get bullied by
petty-minded cheerleaders and
jocks.
CHRISTINA
(sceptical)
Since when did you become an expert
on high-school politics?
BUFFY
I did my time.
As Buffy reclines in her seat, we dissolve to:
10 INT. PLANE – PASSENGER SECTION. MORNING. 10
We walk down the rows of occupied seats in this crowded
flight before we meet GILES and MARIE, the first of the two
Watchers not looking particularly comfortable.
A baby CRIES off camera, and Giles is struggling to open a
packet of complimentary nuts, his efforts finally popping the
bag and spilling its contents over him. Marie chuckles and
Giles sighs wearily.
GILES
I see that expecting the Council's
expenses department to book us two
first class tickets back to
Cleveland was a trifle optimistic…
MARIE
Oh, cheer up, Giles. This isn't so
bad! If the Council's accountancy
trolls had their way, we'd fly
everywhere in the belly of a
Bangkok Airlines cargo hold,
sharing our in-flight meal with
live poultry and livestock!
GILES
Yes, I suppose there are worse
alternatives…
Marie beams at him and then looks across, out of the window.
Giles takes a moment to look at her – his warm feelings
towards her are on show, obvious to everyone, it seems,
except Marie, who notices something and nudges his arm. Giles
snaps out of his trance and peers across.
MARIE
Isn't that the coast coming up down
there?
GILES
Yes, I believe it is. We should be
getting to Buffy's in a few hours
from now. Andrew mentioned
something vague about a scroll that
Angel had passed on to her, I'm
reserving my judgement until I
actually have the thing in my
hands.
MARIE
You see one scroll, you've seen
them all, right?
GILES
Just lately, looking at old scrolls
and parchments and goodness knows
what else seems to be all we've
really done! I remember a time when
being a Watcher meant actual field
work, as opposed to endless
meetings about correct investment
procedures, and public relations
strategies, and-
Giles realises Marie is throwing him a raised eyebrow. He
coughs once and stops. She pats him on the arm.
MARIE
I know. Being the new leader of the
pack is a big responsibility,
Rupert, but I can't think of anyone
in the Council who doesn't want you
there.
GILES
Not even Bletchley?
MARIE
Bletchley's an idiot. I don't care
how many Slayers he's got on his
books now, doesn't change the fact
that the man is a first class
arrogant buffoon!
Giles grins and runs a hand through his hair as Marie rubs
her growling belly.
MARIE (cont'd)
Actually, do you know what I fancy?
GILES
Ah, no, what?
MARIE
When we touch down, on the way to
Miss Summers' house. Some real
American food. It's one of the
things I like most about this
country! We'll have to find some
steak house somewhere and get a
bellyful of top grade red meat. All
this airline food just makes me
hungrier!
Giles manages a half-hearted smile and tries to go back to
reading his book, but his eyes keep drifting across to Marie,
who is absently looking out through the window.
11 INT. CHARLESTON & SMITHE – BASEMENT. MORNING. 11
We're down in the plain-walled basement level of the office
block, the distant hum of heating machinery our soundtrack as
we see EMMA walking towards us. She's a young office girl
sneaking down for a quick cigarette break, heading down a set
of stairs and lighting up.
Her lighter is out of fuel and won't work despite her
repeated attempts, until a HAND suddenly darts into flame,
holding out a flaming lighter.
She looks up at its owner, then leans forward and lights her
cigarette. She blows out the smoke and nods.
EMMA
Thanks. You hard at work down here?
We see who she's talking to – it's the Killer!
KILLER
Oh, you know. This and that.
As a grin slowly spreads across his face, we:
BLACK OUT:
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
FADE IN:
12 EXT. CLEVELAND – PARK. NIGHT. 12
Buffy is out on patrol, taking Willow along for backup.
Neither seems particularly alert – it's been a quiet night so
far and shows no signs of changing.
WILLOW
All I'm saying is, Buffy, you could
try to speak to him more.
BUFFY
You think?
WILLOW
Sure! I mean, there's no getting
round the fact that, uh… stuff
happened, but he's getting on with
things just fine now, and every
time he sees you, he seems to want
to talk again. You know, like he
did before. And, not wanting to
sound all Oprah about this, but
things are never going to stop
being weird if you don't at least
talk to him about it.
BUFFY
Jackson and I… it's gotten way more
complicated. You would have thought
spending a few months in an
artificial dream world would have
made me appreciate the way things
are some more, but I just seem to
end up being less tolerant of
things now. Like, I've seen how
good it can get, and then I came
back here.
WILLOW
I disagree! I think the real
version of Cleveland's got lots
going for it. Xander and Anya
getting married again, for one
thing. The entertainment value of
whatever horrible dresses Anya
makes us wear should make up for-
The girls both FREEZE as there is a man's SCREAM off camera.
They exchange a look, then Buffy draws a stake and they hurry
towards the sound.
The girls come to an open section of the park and look
around. There's nothing moving for a beat, until:
WILLOW (cont'd)
There!
A shadow belts away from them, rushing through the trees at
top speed. Buffy gives chase while Willow notices something
else off screen and heads towards it.
We follow Buffy as she tears through the foliage for a few
moments, before she comes to a stop, looking in every
direction. She's lost him.
Rejoining Willow back out in the field, she heads over to see
the wicca crouched next to something off screen.
As we draw closer, we see a pair of feet – jogging pants and
trainers. Willow looks up, face full of sorrow.
WILLOW (cont'd)
We're too late…
Buffy kneels too – the body is of a man in his twenties, his
Walkman still playing as his blank eyes stare up at the
stars. Buffy reaches out and closes his eyes.
BUFFY
Poor guy. Guess he pushed one
envelope too many.
WILLOW
Hey, check out these wounds,
they're kinda… well, strange.
Buffy peers at his chest – the jogger's shirt is torn and
bloody, and ugly gashes criss-cross his chest. Buffy looks at
them from a few angles before seeing something and motioning
for Willow to join her.
BUFFY
Does that say 'one by one' to you?
We get a brief shot of the jogger's chest – and the message
'one by one' is indeed there, carved awkwardly into him. It
looks as though the killer was about to start a new word when
he was disturbed.
WILLOW
Yeah, weird. What do you think?
BUFFY
No clue, but chances are it's not
going to be pretty.
Buffy looks back at the trees all round and sighs.
BUFFY (cont'd)
I lost our guy through the trees,
reckon you can find a trail?
WILLOW
Huh? You mean, with-
BUFFY
Magic, yes. Nothing major. Just a
low-level tracking spell or
something. We kinda need a head
start here.
WILLOW
Buffy, I…
(beat; sighs)
You know, encouraging me to get my
mojo back on, you know, yay! But
I'm trying to save my magic up for
big occasions, you know, so I don't
start getting too trigger happy
with it again, like when-
BUFFY
Willow. Look. Dead guy number one.
And over that way?
(points towards trees)
Possibly dead guys and girls
numbers two through two hundred.
The sooner we pick the trail up,
the better. And besides, whoever
heard of a wicca who didn't 'wic'
once in a while?
Willow bites her lip, considering this, then nods and stands,
looking around.
WILLOW
Okay. First, I'm gonna need to find
a footprint or something to start
the spell off, and then I need-
BUFFY
Jackson?
WILLOW
(confused)
I need Jackson?
BUFFY
No, look, over there.
And there he is – emerging from the trees, flashlight in
hand. He spots the two girls and heads over.
JACKSON
Hey girls.
Buffy tries not to tense up as Jackson walks over.
BUFFY
What brings you out on this cold,
distinctly un-police worklike
night?
JACKSON
Detective work. I was following up
a lead, see if I could-
(sees body)
Oh, no…
BUFFY
We just got here. Lost track of
someone making a quick getaway,
Will's gonna try and cook us up a
spell to locate him.
Jackson kneels by the body and takes the sheet he printed out
earlier from his jacket. He studies it under his flashlight
and then looks at the dead man's chest.
JACKSON
Here, take a look.
Buffy cranes over – and we see that the writing on the man's
chest matches the style of the message spray-painted on the
alley wall in the photo.
BUFFY
(off photo)
Where'd you get that?
JACKSON
Long story. Short version is, I'm
still on the trail of whoever
killed that guy last night, and a
message left at the crime scene was
a match to this photo. It was
written a few months ago on an
alley wall nearby, so I came to
look round the area, see if
anything turned up.
BUFFY
Does a dead jogger count as
'anything'?
JACKSON
I'm afraid so. I'll call this in,
you two go see if you can catch up
to that guy.
But watch yourselves, I doubt this
is only his second kill.
BUFFY
We'll be fine. Come on, Willow.
WILLOW
You sure? You don't want to stay
and-
BUFFY
(firmly)
No, Willow, let's go.
With an awkward smile back to Jackson, Willow is led off
screen by Buffy. Jackson studies the body for a few more
moments before reaching for his walkie-talkie.
JACKSON
Dispatch, this is Shaw, over.
We pick up Buffy and Willow again as they start to head
through the trees, on the suspect's trail.
WILLOW
See? Right there. That's exactly
what I'm talking about.
BUFFY
What?
WILLOW
There he was, showing up out of
nowhere, all ready to help out and
be all Jackson and stuff, and you
just blow him off and drag me away
too!
BUFFY
Willow, I-
WILLOW
No, I get it. You don't want to
allow yourself to be friends with
him yet because 'it isn't the right
time,' but all I'll say is when is
gonna be the right time?
Buffy pauses, and Willow keeps on walking, leaving Buffy with
that thought.
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Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.