16 INT. LAB - LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 16
Faith is sponging the blood off Oliver's wounds when Noa and
Pryor arrive.
PRYOR
Faith, what happened?
Pryor drops onto his knees, and holds Oliver's eyes open,
inspecting them. Faith moves some tissues to try and cover up
the stains on Pryor's couch.
He notices. Makes a face. Gets back to work.
PRYOR (cont'd)
Why didn't you take him to a
hospital?
FAITH
He didn't want to go.
PRYOR
Faith, his wounds could be quite
serious.
FAITH
He didn't want to go.
Pryor focuses on Faith.
PRYOR
Did he give you a reason?
FAITH
(sarcastic)
Yeah, we stopped and had a couple
drinks at which time he discussed
in-depth his phobia of sterile
environments. Just patch him up
already, Pryor!
PRYOR
Faith, he could be dangerous. We
don't know anything about him.
FAITH
He helped me fight a big... thing.
I think we owe him the benefit of
the doubt.
Pryor is breaking out some bandages from a first aid kit,
prepping them for application.
PRYOR
You ever consider the reason he
doesn't want to go to the hospital
is because he may be a wanted man?
Maybe the police are looking for
him. Maybe he doesn't want to go to
the hospital because he know's
he'll get busted. Maybe he is a
danger, Faith.
NOA
That's an awful lot of "maybes".
FAITH
It's none of our business.
PRYOR
You brought him here, now it is our
business.
FAITH
He helped me out, now drop it.
Pryor realizes he's pushing and backs off the subject.
PRYOR
Noa, go heat up some water.
NOA
What do we need hot water for? Do
you need to sterilize something? Oh
my God, are we going to have to
operate?
(then)
He's not pregnant or anything?
(off their looks;
sheepish)
I read about demonic pregnancies
and there's some really fu-
PRYOR
(interrupts)
Coffee! I was going to fix us some
coffee while we wait for our guest
to wake.
NOA
Oh. Sure thing boss.
Noa hops up and starts to head down the corridor, on her way
out she leans over to Faith.
NOA (cont'd)
(whisper)
Don't let him operate, I think he
might be... impaired.
She taps the side of her nose, as if disclosing a big secret,
and scurries off. Faith, confused, turns to Pryor who just
hangs his head in frustration.
17 INT. LAB - THE SLAB - LATER 17
Noa is trying to fish her gum out of the Krohk-Han's mouth as
Faith and Pryor share some coffee.
PRYOR
From what you've said, the creature
you both encountered sounds like a
Troll.
FAITH
No dice. I've known people who have
been deeply intimate with a Troll
before, and this wasn't one of
those trolls.
PRYOR
Hmm. Maybe you're right. Maybe it
isn't one of THOSE trolls.
NOA
Again, with the "maybes".
Pryor offers an annoyed eye over to Noa, who is still trying
to work her gum back up the demon's throat.
FAITH
This thing sure didn't come walking
out of one of those dinky old fairy
tales, either, it was big, mean and
ugly. And it looked hungry.
PRYOR
I have some sources, I'll check in
to and see what I can find.
FAITH
A real live troll, huh?
PRYOR
The description sounds dead on, but
they usually don't dwell in such
populated areas. Keep to
themselves. Very strange indeed.
FAITH
Welcome to my world.
OLIVER (O.C.)
So...
All eyes turn to the doorway where we see Oliver standing,
looking much better, albeit still quite beat up.
OLIVER (CONT'D) (cont'd)
Buffy's dead.
And on Faith's look of shock we:
BLACK OUT:
END OF ACT ONE
ACT TWO
FADE IN:
18 INT. LAB - THE SLAB - CONTINUOUS 18
Pan out to show the rest of the room: Pryor in mid-sip of his
cocoa, Noa feeling generally uncomfortable - and out of the
loop (who's Buffy?), and Faith frozen in a state of disbelief
at Oliver who staggers through the doorway and over to the
slab, next to Noa.
OLIVER
(re: demon)
Krohk-Han?
Noa nods as Oliver steps over for a closer look.
OLIVER (cont'd)
Nasty things.
(looking into corpse's
mouth)
What the...
(to Noa)
Did he choke to death on a piece of
gum?
Noa has no reply, she just rolls her shoulders.
FAITH
(through gritted teeth)
What do you mean, Buffy's dead?
OLIVER
You're the Slayer, aren't you?
Oliver, weakly, maneuvers himself over to Faith.
FAITH
A slayer.
OLIVER
Yeah, well, I know enough about how
these things work. There can be
only one...
(to himself)
... or is that 'Highlander'?
(back to Faith)
Basic idea's the same. One slayer
in all the world. When she dies
another is called. Last I knew, she
was the Slayer, and if you're
currently holding the title then
that means Buff's dead.
Faith rolls her eyes and puts her drink down, standing to
face Oliver with a relieved smile.
FAITH
Oh. My. God. You scared the crap
out of me!
OLIVER
What do you mean?
FAITH
"A". I said I'm A slayer. Buffy is
fine. Or at least, no one's
bothered to call and tell me
different.
OLIVER
She is? How? You're both slayers?
FAITH
Oh, honey... You are completely out
of the loop, aren't you? What's
your name?
OLIVER
Oliver. Oliver Pike.
Faith nods and turns to Noa.
FAITH
Noa, better get some more coffee
brewing. It looks as if we have a
lot to discuss.
Noa nods and heads back into the kitchen as we cut to:
19 INT. POLICE HQ - NIGHT 19
Lehto types away at his keyboard. His eyes scroll through the
contents of his screen until they meet what he was searching
for. With wide eyes, his face goes pale. He picks up his
phone and makes a call, never taking his eyes off his
monitor.
VOICE
(from phone)
Hello?
LEHTO
Dave? It's Mike. Something new
popped up. I've just uploaded it to
my FTP, folder name is: pratfall.
Get it now. I'll be there for
follow up in 15.
VOICE
(from phone)
I take it this has something to do
with-
LEHTO
(deliberately cutting him
off)
Yes. Now go. Do it.
Lehto hangs the phone back on the receiver and pensively
stares at his screen.
20 INT. LAB - THE SLAB - LATER 20
Faith and Oliver sit alone, continuing their conversation.
OLIVER
(midtalk)
... wow.
(disbelief)
Thousands?
FAITH
Hell, maybe millions for all we
know.
OLIVER
Wow.
(then)
Are there even that many vampires
out there?
FAITH
(pondering)
I guess? Never really thought of
that. That is a lot, isn't it? But
yeah, I suppose so.
OLIVER
And until recently, only the one
slayer?
(then)
Okay, I am by my own admission not
the most advanced strategist on the
planet, but shouldn't they have
started with the multiple slayers?
FAITH
Probably. From what I get, the guys
responsible were not the most
forward thinking notches on the
evolutionary ladder.
(sigh)
What's a girl gonna do though?
OLIVER
Well, die, I would assume.
Oliver gets up from his chair and makes his way over to the
slab, examining the corpse.
OLIVER(cont'd)
(re: corpse)
And then there's this. Not even
part of the plan.
(shakes head; smiles)
Damn. One girl.
Faith joins him.
OLIVER (cont'd)
I was actually naive enough to
think that once Buffy pencil-staked
that Vamp in Hemery it would all be
over.
FAITH
(smiles)
Stupid kid. It's never that simple.
Things always get... complicated.
OLIVER
Tell me about it.
FAITH
So, you know Buff from "Hemery,"
was it?
OLIVER
Yeah, we went to High School
together.
FAITH
(checking out his "look")
I just can't see you guys "gapping"
it.
OLIVER
Oh, hell no. We barely knew each
other. Couldn't stand one another
really.
(then; off her look)
At first. Then there was the
vampires. And the birthright. And
the undeniable lust you get when
fighting side to side-
(gets right up in Faith's
face)
-with a beautiful young woman.
FAITH
(coyly)
Sorry, I don't do Buffy's cast
offs.
(to herself)
Well, maybe the one time, but I
don't think they ever had... at
least, she never admitted to any-
OLIVER
(interrupts)
Too bad.
Their eyes lock for a beat before Pryor, carrying a large,
old text, followed by Noa, enters.
PRYOR
We've got it!
Faith and Oliver break.
FAITH
Got what?
PRYOR
(triumphantly grinning)
It's a troll!
FAITH
(sarcastic)
Congratulations, Pryor.
(taking the text)
You're turning into my very own
personal Giles.
The room stares blankly at Faith, missing the reference.
FAITH (cont'd)
Forget it.
(off the text)
What am I looking at here?
Pryor, eyes rolling, takes his book back.
NOA
It's a good guy.
PRYOR
(to Noa)
No, no, no, I never said that.
(back on Faith)
Trolls are most definitely not very
nice by their very nature, however,
this particular tribe, or breed,
the "pretaun-sho" generally are not
aggressive, unless provoked and
tend to stay in large unpopulated
areas.
FAITH
Well, I'm pretty aggressive when
I'm provoked too, but I'm still
technically a good guy, right? So,
what makes these guys different?
What makes them "not very nice"?
Pryor turns a couple pages of the text and shows an image to
Faith, whose face scrunches.
FAITH (cont'd)
Oh.
Oliver leans in and takes a look.
OLIVER
(confirming)
Yeah, that's pretty sick.
(to Pryor)
And definitely "not very nice".
NOA
Let me see.
Pryor holds the book in her face, giving her a nice view of
the illustration.
NOA (cont'd)
Oh Sh-
(covers her mouth)
Not very nice.
(to Pryor)
Evil. Definitely, Evil.
(to Faith)
Kill it.
FAITH
Love to. How?
PRYOR
Unfortunately, brute force won't
work on something like this. At
least not without diluting its
source of power.
OLIVER
And what is that, exactly?
PRYOR
It's name.
Beat. Faith rolls her eyes.
FAITH
That's dumb.
(Off his look)
Well, c'mon. It is!
PRYOR
Be that it may, but without
diluting the source of its power,
it cannot be defeated.
FAITH
Okay, so if we get its name, I can
kick its butt?
PRYOR
Yes. What I said.
FAITH
Then get me its name.
Faith starts to walk off.
PRYOR
Where are you going?
FAITH
Well, I'm figuring we want to keep
tabs on this thing to make sure it
doesn't eat any more civvies,
right?
PRYOR
Right. I've got a possible lead I
can follow. Take Noa's cell.
NOA
In my bag downstairs.
Faith nods.
PRYOR
I'll call if I get something.
FAITH
(re: Noa, quietly)
Keep her safe.
(then)
Ollie, you feel like getting out
for a bit?
OLIVER
Yeah, no offence, but -
(to Pryor)
- this place smells all funky.
Pryor is taken aback. Oliver follows Faith out.
PRYOR
(incredulously)
It's not me! It's the dead demon!
(to Noa, crabbily)
Get that thing in the freezer.
Noa snaps to action.
PRYOR (cont'd)
(to himself; grumpy)
It's not even that noticeable...
We cut from Pryor to:
21 INT. LAB - LOBBY - CONTINUOUS 21
Faith and Oliver (carrying a guitar case - crossbow within)
load up on weapons, daggers, throwing knives, hand axe, etc.,
etc.
FAITH
You sure you're up to this?
OLIVER
Definitely.
Faith finishes packing her weapons, and tosses the bag over
her shoulder.
FAITH
Let's go kill a troll.
Beat. Oliver grins.
OLIVER
I hope you realize how corny that
sounds.
FAITH
I do. Let's go.
Ready to fight they head out, marching toward the camera
until we:
BLACK OUT:
END OF ACT TWO
ACT THREE
FADE IN:
22 INT. SIP & SURF INTERNET CAFE - LATER 22
It is after hours. The place is shrouded in darkness save
for the faint glow from a few monitors.
KEYS jingle in the air as the front door opens, revealing
Lehto, who very quietly puts them back in to his pocket.
LEHTO
David?
Lehto strolls through the cafe, carefully eyeing the
environment, finding nothing.
He takes notice of the bar and grabs a cup. Checks a few of
the pots til he finds one still warm. Pours a cup, and takes
a sip.
Sour face; not that warm, apparently. He pours it out.
One of the monitors catches his eye and he takes a seat
before it. Looks around. Still no David. Eyes the bathroom.
That's probably it. He starts typing on the keyboard.
23 EXT. ABANDONED TRUCK YARD - LATER 23
The truck-yard is large and is virtually a semi graveyard,
littered with cabs and trailers from several years past.
Faith and Oliver stalk through.
FAITH
This is it? Really? I guess it's
got the spooky going for it, but
not really somewhere I'd expect to
find a troll.
OLIVER
And where exactly do you expect to
find trolls, Faith?
FAITH
I don't know. Underground maybe?
(then)
What were you doing here?
OLIVER
Hmm?
FAITH
Well, you said you ran into him
here, which makes sense if this is
his pad, and not somewhere
underground, but what were you
doing in this place anyway?
OLIVER
(re: guitar case)
How quickly you forget.
FAITH
Ah, demon hunter.
OLIVER
No. Musician. I'm so freaking broke
it's not even funny, and good
accommodation costs the kind of
money I just don't make.
Off Faith's look we cut to:
24 INT. SUGARWATER APARTMENT COMPLEX - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS24
Pryor, with Noa trailing behind, moves through the hallway of
apartment doors at a quick, determined pace.
NOA
Nice place. Looks expensive. Are we
going to see your dealer?
PRYOR
What? No! Stop that.
Pryor stops. Turns and faces her sternly.
PRYOR (cont'd)
Damn it, Noa.
(sighs)
Yes, it was drugs.
NOA
What?
PRYOR
(stern)
Prescription drugs.
NOA
Seriously? Wow. I was just foolin'
with you.
(then)
So when did you decide to go all
Matthew Perry on us?
PRYOR
(sighing)
It's not like that.
NOA
Is it serious?
PRYOR
No.
NOA
What is it?
PRYOR
They're just anti-depressants. I
have a chemical imbalance and have
been taking meds since I was in my
early teens. I've just had my doses
upped and my body is still...
adjusting.
NOA
Oh.
(then)
Oh! You're not going to, like,
freak out and go all Michael Myers
on us or anything, are you?
PRYOR
Noa, I assure you, I won't be
chasing after you with a kitchen
knife anytime soon.
NOA
I meant the comedian.
PRYOR
(deadpan)
Dear God, I hope not.
Noa nods and the two continue to journey through the hall.
Pryor stops at one of the doors. Rings the bell. Waits.
The door swings open revealing a heavyset man in his late
30's, balding but overall neatly kept, wearing a long red
robe - this is MR. OWL.
PRYOR (cont'd)
Hello, Mr. Owl. I was hoping I
could trouble you for a moment?
MR. OWL
Why of course, Mr. Webb, please
come in.
25 INT. SUGARWATER APARTMENT COMPLEX - ROOM 320 - CONTINUOS25
Pryor enters the beautiful apartment, but Mr. Owl stands in
the doorway, staring at Noa, not allowing her passage.
MR. OWL
Who... is this?
PRYOR
Oh, I'm sorry, this is my
associate, Noa DeRubia.
MR. OWL
(scowling at her)
Charmed.
NOA
Right.
MR. OWL
So, what may I do for you, Mr.
Webb?
PRYOR
I need a favor.
MR. OWL
Ah, a favor. Another and another. I
see a pattern, Mr. Webb.
PRYOR
I apologize, I truly do, but I need
help with a specimen.
MR. OWL
What kind of specimen?
NOA
A troll. A not very nice one.
PRYOR
Noa, please.
(then)
But yes, it is a troll.
MR. OWL
Which of the three breeds?
PRYOR
Pretaun-sho.
MR. OWL
Actually, it's brae-taun-shau,
least human-like of the three.
Strange it's in New York.
Mr. Owl starts coughing. He removes a handkerchief from his
robe pocket. Coughs into it - hard.
Noa notices the black fluid dripping from the corners of his
mouth. He wipes it a final time, clearing away the strange
substance from his face and puts the handkerchief away again.
MR. OWL (cont'd)
Please excuse me.
PRYOR
Absolutely, Mr. Owl.
Mr. Owl leaves the room.
Noa gets right up in Pryor's face, making strange gestures
concerning her mouth. Pryor doesn't get it. Mr. Owl returns
to the room, and Noa drops her arms in defeat.
MR. OWL
I'm assuming you want the creatures
name?
PRYOR
Yes, that would be great.
Mr. Owl hands him a piece of paper.
PRYOR (cont'd)
Thank you.
NOA
(suspicious)
That was quick.
Pryor shoulders into Noa, who shoulders right back.
MR. OWL
We'll be seeing you on the 24th,
Mr. Webb?
PRYOR
As always, sir. Thank you. Oh, and
please give Mr. Sparrow my regards.
Mr. Owl nods to him, opens the door and sees them out.
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