Sins of the Father

Prologue

Scene I

A coffee bar, filled to the rafters with businesspeople on lunchbreaks. The ringing of mobile phones is a constant layer of white noise, matched only by the ceaseless buzz of conversation from each table. A waitress is preparing two cups of coffee; two lattes, steaming hot. She whisks them expertly onto a tray and swishes deftly between the crowds, planting them on a table.

WAITRESS: Two lattés, one without sugar, one with lemon.

We see the occupants of the table; rather surprisingly, they are hideously deformed demons, one of which, Utrech, sports three-feet-high horns from his forehead. His coffee mate, Yimsin, looks like a wax model in the latter stages of melting. Both are sporting rather ill-fitting suits.

UTRECH: (patting his breast pocket) Uh…how much do I owe you?

WAITRESS: Three-fifty.

YIMSIN: Three-fifty?! May your face and genitals become infested with parasitic lice for all eternity!

WAITRESS: Three-fifty, guy. Or I call security.

UTRECH: It's no problem. My friend…he's, uh, not from around these parts.

The waitress gives Yimsin an appraising glance. A piece of his face is slowly peeling off, revealing raw bleeding bone and muscle underneath.

WAITRESS: Right.

Utrech retrieves some truly ancient banknotes and pays her. She pauses long enough to give a very waitress-like sneer to Yimsin before vanishing back into the crowds. Utrech leans across the table and whacks Yimsin across the shoulder with a ha… with the thing on the end of his arm, which is at least vaguely hand-shaped.

UTRECH: Idiot! You don't go around cursing people these days!

YIMSIN: Have they developed good protection spells?

UTRECH: (darkly) No. They've developed lawyers. Now, you were the one who wanted to come up here for this, sample a little life I believe you said.

YIMSIN: Well, I was just tired of meeting in eldritch tombs at the witching hour and having to squint at everyone because there's only one candle lighting the place.

UTRECH: (sighs) You've lost your sense of style, my friend. I remember the days when the merest sight of horns had the humans running for cover, sacrificing their firstborns in a panic to escape our wrath. I turned up at a village in England a few centuries ago to check out the fishing and before I knew it, they'd burned every woman over the age of forty or with more than three facial warts.

YIMSIN: (sipping his latte) You get anything?

UTRECH: Three salmon. Not bad. One of them, I – oh, this is ridiculous. We're up here to discuss one thing, and it isn't fly-fishing in the seventeenth century.

YIMSIN: I hate the big dimensional pile-ups.

UTRECH: Tell me about it. There was a small localised disturbance around that Sunnydale place a few years ago, come to think of it. We were ready to mobilise, but it sorted itself out before we got there.

YIMSIN: I never heard about that.

UTRECH: (smugly) Well, you don't keep your ear to the ground, do you.

YIMSIN: I do if I want it to stay attached. But whatever happened in Sunnydale is going to be nothing compared to this one.

UTRECH: You're not wrong there. And they're not even sure how much we can intervene. Something about the rules.

YIMSIN: You've heard the rumours, though, I assume.

The mood changes. Both demons lean protectively over their coffees, sending furtive glances around the shop. Utrech licks his lips with a forked tongue.

UTRECH: You don't mess with the big things, my friend. Especially not something like…like, well, this. It's over my horns, way over my horns.

YIMSIN: But it can't be – I mean, the…?

UTRECH: Ssssh! Shut up, you fool! Don't even say it!

They attempt to sit back and nonchalantly sip their lattes, which, for two demons in a packed city centre coffee bar, is a pretty mean feat. Yimsin is on the point of speaking again when a young businesswoman taps Utrech on the shoulder.

BUSINESSWOMAN: You mind if I use this seat? Thanks.

Without waiting for a reply, she promptly sits down between the two demons, sighing loudly at the world in general and taking out a small compact mirror to adjust her tousled hairstyle in minute detail.

At a loss for words, Utrech and Yimsin stare at each other for a few moments.

YIMSIN: Er…so, you were saying…?

UTRECH: Me? Uh (gulps his coffee) yes…I think we should, er, just observe the events and not commit ourselves for the time being. We can't stop the…the diversification process, that much we know. It's out of our hands.

BUSINESSWOMAN: Diversification – oh, don't talk to me about it, please -

YIMSIN: (bristling) That was the plan.

BUSINESSWOMAN: - if I hear that damn word one more time in one more meeting, I swear I'll take an axe from my bag, bury it in the throat of whoever said it and dump their still-bleeding bodies into a rat-infested sewer.

There is a moment of contemplative silence.

UTRECH: What it lacks in panache, it makes up for in emphasis, I suppose.

YIMSIN: You're sure we're not still (he points downward with his index finger and thumb; there is a small, wet thump) oh for – my dialling finger –

UTRECH: No, this isn't Central Office. Yet, anyway. (sighs) What are you doing?

YIMSIN: (from under the table) It's under here somewhere…give me a second…

BUSINESSWOMAN: Is your friend all right?

UTRECH: Oh, yes. He's just falling apart under the pressure a little, I'm afraid.

YIMSIN: (muffled) Oh, ha bloody ha –

Utrech becomes aware that the woman is staring at him. He turns to her and smiles, a trifle uncertainly under her appraising scrutiny. She smiles thinly and extends a perfectly manicured hand. Utrech glances down at his own clawed monstrosities.

UTRECH: I don't shake hands. Sorry.

BUSINESSWOMAN: Wise. Very Eastern. I like that.

UTRECH: East isn't exactly the direction I had in mind.

BUSINESSWOMAN: Here's my card.

She proffers him the object in question just as Yimsin emerges from beneath them triumphantly, flexing his newly-reattached finger with a grin. He takes in the situation in a moment and fixes Utrech with a very interested stare. Utrech squirms.

UTRECH: Thanks, but I don't think I'll be needing it. You see my dear, we're from different sides of the fence. We have different outlooks on life, different priorities. Besides which, I'm a demon using an appearance-suppression spell on you. Allow me to demonstrate –

He clicks his fingers. The businesswoman rockets from her chair, screaming incoherently, pointing in terror at a bemused Utrech. The other customers send puzzled glances her way as she scrabbles desperately out of the coffee shop and into the daylight of downtown LA outside, crying out for help.

All eyes are on the two demons.

UTRECH: (to everyone, puzzled) All I did was offer her a Nasdaq portfolio.

There's a mass scraping of chairs as everyone pulls a little further away from him. Otherwise, though, the shop returns to normality.

YIMSIN: There's something to be said for tombs, you know…

Scene II

Outside, in the countryside it would appear. The scene should be strangely familiar. Our two coffee buddies are strolling casually along, soaking up the mild autumnal rays with what seems like not a care in the world.

UTRECH: If only all Hell dimensions were like this. Most of them are horrific. Twinned with black holes & Belgium. But this…if it weren't for the locals, of course.

On cue, a pair of riders thunder past. Both sport deep green skin. They completely ignore the two demons; we're not sure if another spell is at work or if it's out of a sense of self-preservation.

YIMSIN: There they go. (pauses) You know, we could –

UTRECH: We could. Certainly we could. Absolutely we could. In a second.

They watch, along with us, as the riders stop at the entrance of a cave about thirty feet away. Green figures disappear into its interior.

YIMSIN: Vampires can walk in daylight here, you know. Interesting fact.

UTRECH: See? This place has its place. You watch; some enterprising shaman will get a nice stable portal system rigged up sooner or later, and we'll have vampires sporting all-over tans. Hah!

The figures reappear. Yimsin and Utrech are growing increasingly uneasy. The twin burly green figures are dragging a smaller shape between them. The distance is not enough to smother screams and squeals of terror, unmistakably female in origin. A green hand lashes out, plunging the scene into a temporary and terrible quiet.

UTRECH: Here we go. Ten, nine, eight –

The limp figure is dumped on the grass for a moment in order for its captors to steady their horses. As soon as their backs are turned, however, it springs to its feet and begins to sprint towards a thick copse of trees twenty feet away.

UTRECH: Seven, six, five –

Realising they will never mount their horses and bring them to a gallop in time before the prisoner reaches the cover of the trees, the former captors reach into their halberds and produce two very mean-looking crossbows, dropping to their knees to achieve a better firing position.

UTRECH: Four, three, two –

One string is released. Stumbling slightly in her abject panic, the fleeing prisoner actually jinks out of the way of the arrow quite involuntarily.

UTRECH: One –

The second string is released. We stay on the faces of the two watching demons. A merest flicker of emotion passes over their features – causing Yimsin's left nostril to slip down his face a fraction.

The view changes. The figure is still moving toward the wooded safety of the copse. The difference being, she's now crawling along. A black line protrudes from her left shoulder. We watch as the two captors, taking their time, stroll across the grass and stand over her for a moment. One, he who missed with the first shot, has had time to reload his bow.

He aims for only a moment.

YIMSIN: (glancing around) Funny. I keep expecting…fireworks. Eclipses of the suns, rains of blood and small fish. At least a crack of thunder, a voice saying –

His mouth falls open, and when we say open, we mean OPEN. The next words boom forth like proclamations from the mouth of doom itself.

YIMSIN: YOU KNOW NOT WHAT EVENTS YOU HAVE SET IN MOTION! THIS SMALL ACT SHALL SHAKE REALITY! MANY SHALL PERISH!

The two riders are unimpressed; it seems our observers really are out of synch in some fashion with this reality. Such is the volume with which Yimsin spoke that the syllables actually take some time to die down.

Utrech casts a sidelong glance at his companion.

UTRECH: Remind me to call you next time I'm going for drive-thru.

They fade into transparency, the two riders thundering past where they stood bare seconds after they are gone.

END PROLOGUE

MAIN 'ANGEL' TITLES

Sins Of The Father

Act I, Scene I

The hotel. Cordelia and Wesley are engaged in discussion by the reception desk.

CORDELIA: …it's not right.

WESLEY: I understand your feelings on it, Cordelia. But the fact remains th-

CORDELIA: Don't give me that, Wes. This is a place of work, okay? It's not somewhere where…where people can just come and stay, like-

WELSLEY: …like a hotel…

CORDELIA: Well, exactly!

She stops and narrows her eyes at Wesley, who licks his lips and tries not to look smug. Cordelia now feels the need to punctuate her speech with points of the letter opener on the reception desk, causing Wesley to take a quick half-step back.

CORDELIA: Why couldn't Anne and her little Noah's Ark for hobos have taken them in? That is what that place is for, isn't it?

WESLEY: It's a shelter, Cordelia, yes. But it's for people who need a roof over their heads and no questions asked-it's not for people who need protecting. Anne's project would be the first place they'd be looked for.

CORDELIA: You know what I mean.

She walks away, busying herself with some menial task or other. Wesley follows her at a safe distance, realising that she's not quite out of her temper yet.

WESLEY: I don't, actually. I would have thought you would have been quite pleased.

Cordelia spins around, astonished.

CORDELIA: Pleased! Have you completely lost your mind!

WESLEY: Well, it's just that you often seem…er…quite…well, um, all I'm saying is that I sometimes think…

CORDELIA: Spit it out, Wes.

WESLEY: …that you spend too much time around terribly serious people. You're young, and you're beautiful…(Cordelia is surprised and pleased, Wesley struggles to continue)…you try your best to keep this place light, but sometimes I think we're doing something to dull what you are. With these new arrivals, maybe you'll have some people to talk to who aren't all that terribly old and serious.

As Cordelia digests this, still a bit stunned, Angel emerges from a nearby doorway.

ANGEL: Everything OK? I heard-

CORDELIA: Everything is fine. I'll…get some coffee.

She strides away quite jauntily, with a parting grin at Wesley. Angel walks over to him and they watch as Cordelia disappears out of sight.

ANGEL: Well?

WESLEY: Worked like a charm.

They shake hands triumphantly.

WESLEY: (wryly) I suppose you don't spend over two centuries around women and not learn a thing or two about how they work…

ANGEL: Wesley, you'd be amazed how wrong you are.

He meets Wesley's look with a sheepish shrug.

Act I, Scene II

A flashing-image break brings us back to the reception area, some time later; the usual trio have been joined by Gunn, who stands next to a collection of plastic bags stuffed with clothes. Beside these stand two rather sullen youths, a boy and girl of about seventeen. They stand close to one another and stare balefully; we cut to Angel, Cordelia and Wesley, the latter pair wearing wide and nervous grins.

GUNN: Can't thank you enough for this, man.

He and Angel shake hands. Angel casts a quick look at the two kids, sizing them up again. They stare back, hostile.

ANGEL: No problem. Should be…an experience. As long as they're toilet-trained?

This is greeted with universal silence. Cordelia steps forward with a sigh.

CORDELIA: That was a joke. Don't worry, after a while you come to recognise them coming. I keep asking him-just wave a flag, make things easier. So you'd be-

She approaches the young woman with a reassuring grin, hand outstretched. After a long moment the gesture is accepted. Melissa has an air of easy confidence about her-though she's some inches shorter and years younger than Cordelia, she shakes hands as if they are equals. They are in many ways; Melissa has short brown hair and is a pretty girl, though her casual wardrobe of a simple black top and blue jeans hints that she's not of the mindset to make the most of her figure.

MELISSA: Name's Melissa. Don't call me Mel.

CORDELIA: (indicating herself) Cordelia. Don't even think about Cordy, kay?

Without warning Wesley steps forward and vigorously pumps the hand of the young man. As usual, he's overcompensating for his own nervousness.

WESLEY: And you must be Jules! Gunn's told me all about you, young man!

Jules removes his hand very slowly. He's tall for his age, taller than Wesley and about the same height as Angel. He's not powerfully built but, like Melissa, has the look of someone who's had to survive and is by now pretty good at it. There's a bruise on his right cheek which is testament to that. Only Jules' blue eyes seem out of place; a touch of light on a pretty dark face.

JULES: Don't ever touch me again.

MELISSA: Ah c'mon Jules, the guy's not like that, he's just an idiot.

CORDELIA: Wow, these kids are sharp.

Gunn steps in front of them. They look at him differently; there's a lot of respect there, and a healthy dose of fear too.

GUNN: These people are my friends, you got that? You know I'm gonna sort out your problems back in the district. Until that time, until I say things are safe, you're staying here. Give these people some respect, they earned it.

Cordelia, Angel and Wesley seem pleased at this.

ANGEL: Time to check in.

Act I, Scene III

Cordelia is showing Jules and Melissa their room. They begin to unpack their things; which basically entails the emptying out of the contents of the bags onto the floor and the beds. Cordelia watches.

CORDELIA: Here's a fun fact; this building was condemned. So we're not too sure about the foundations or anything. Basically, don't set anything on fire and we should be okay.

She is ignored.

CORDELIA: Can I just say that you two are really, really good at the sulking? I mean I thought I was good at your age, but obviously I was just an amateur. (no response) Right…I'll just leave you two alone now, so you can talk about how incredibly old and stupid everyone is and how no-one understands your plight and suffering. Oh and by the way, mealtimes? Pretty much random around here.

She leaves. As her footsteps get fainter Jules and Melissa share a single glance and begin repacking their bags. They open the door to the corridor and, assured that its empty, begin walking quickly along it. Both wear determined expressions, they're set on this course of action and nothing will deter them. Rounding a corner, they bump squarely into Angel.

ANGEL: Dissatisfied with the service?

JULES: Get out of our way.

He and Melissa try to push past Angel, who simply pushes them into the wall, pinning them effortlessly. He seems not surprised in the slightest by this turn of events.

ANGEL: Let's see if I can move things along a little quicker. You both like Gunn, but you don't think he spends enough time in the district anymore to understand what's going on. You don't think he can protect you from the mess you're in now. And the people he's placed you with, they mean well, but they're do-gooders and won't lift a finger to help you if you're really in need. So you're gonna keep running, maybe try to get a few states away and start living the old life all over again. (to Jules) Try to stay out of jail, (to Melissa) try not to get pregnant. You think you're smart enough to avoid the traps out there that everyone keeps telling you about, right?

Jules and Melissa make no reply.

ANGEL: I don't mind telling ya, that's one of the longest speeches you're ever likely to hear me make. Don't tell me I was wasting my breath.

MELISSA: What do you want us to say? You've got us bang to rights, we admit it, we're stupid kids, yeah? Would that make you feel like the great psychologist or something?

ANGEL: I'm not doing this to be right. I'm telling you that your neat little ideas about life you probably formed from TV aren't gonna fly here, because I'm sure as hell not thinking right now that you two are the street-urchins-with-hearts-of-gold.

He removes his arm but continues talking. Neither Jules nor Melissa make any attempt to barge past him as he does, but they still cannot look him in the eye.

ANGEL: You need help. I give help. And if you think I-all of us-in this building won't protect you, then you're wrong. You're safer here than anywhere else. Walk out that door and you're on your own. You want to be treated like adults, you'll be dead like adults. Your choice.

He turns and walks away.

JULES: Hey…if you want us to trust you…tell me one thing, and don't lie.

Angel turns.

ANGEL: Yeah?

JULES: Is it true what they say about you?

Angel hesitates for a moment, then seems to come to a decision. His face morphs and contorts from his human visage to the demonic vampire countenance, his canines elongating and his forehead coming together.

ANGEL: What do you think?

He turns again and starts walking.

JULES: Actually Gunn told us about the vampire thing. What I was gonna ask was-is it really true you can't ever get off?

ANGEL: As I said…anytime you wanna walk out that door, feel free.

Act I, Scene IV

A vampire nest, as usual an abandoned nondescript warehouse. Two of the creatures close in on the terrified victim, a young man in his twenties. He screams long and loud. The first vampire closes in on the neck when something makes him stop. A shadow crosses the room quickly…the room's occupants, five vampires, glance around, sniffing the air like animals. The occasional squeal and moan from the victim is the only sound in the room.

There is no warning. A shadow detaches itself from the walls and begins cutting a swathe through the vampires. We focus on the victim as the battle rages, his eyes wide and staring as bodies are tossed around him, crumbling into dust as they impact upon the walls and floor. Guttural yells of rage and the cracking of bones make for a chaotic few moments. Eventually the sounds of death cease, and the victim's neck cranes up…and up…

A very large vampire grins down.

THE DUKE: This is turning out to be a really bad night for you, right?

He lunges downward. We get one more scream.

Act I, Scene V

Wesley opens one of his 'big ole books' at a specific page, which displays a picture of the vampire we've just seen. He slides the book over to Angel; all four members of the team are assembled around the lobby's table in full briefing mode. Cordelia and Gunn crowd around to get a look at the picture.

WESLEY: Name as a mortal was Michael Brooke, but for the past couple of decades he's gone by the rather grander title of…

ANGEL & WESLEY: …The Duke…

GUNN: (to Angel) You know this dude?

ANGEL: Thought he was dead (off looks from others) I mean…dead dead.

WESLEY: Sired in Ireland at the start of the twentieth century.

CORDELIA: Go Ireland. For such a small place, it has a knack of producing some top grade monsters.

ANGEL: Is it wrong that I'm a little bit proud?

WESLEY: The Duke is a rather special case…judging from case accounts and reports, he seems as fond of killing his own kind as he does of more conventional types of vampire activity.

ANGEL: He always hated the weak.

GUNN: If this is anything to go by (he lifts the picture) still leaves hell of a lot of folks he'd be pretty pissed at. What's he doing here in town, anyways?

WESLEY: Well…er…

He glances at Angel, who catches the look.

ANGEL: I fought him once. Wasn't long after I'd been cursed, we came across each other. He was young, cocky. Wanted a big name under his belt to start his career.

GUNN: What is he, a boxer?

WESLEY: He was, of sorts. A pit fighter. As has happened before, his mortal personality had an effect on him even after he was sired…one might say…

CORDELIA: He's a vampire with a Rocky complex?

Wesley struggles to fit this pop culture definition in with his grander visions, but eventually concedes defeat.

WESLEY: …well, yes…

ANGEL: He caught me in a bad mood that day.

Something in his tone makes the other three sit up and take a little more notice.

GUNN: You beat the crap out of him, didn't you?

ANGEL: (thoughtfully) I had the chance to stake him, and I told him that he wasn't even worth that much. Told him to try again sometime, when he was ready…

CORDELIA: OK, see, you said bad mood, not incredibly stupid mood…

ANGEL: At least we know where he's headed.

WESLEY: We need to make prep-

He is interrupted by the appearance of Melissa and Jules, who charge down the steps into the lobby and crash down on the communal sofas with practised ease.

MELISSA: Hey all.

She grabs the book and begins scanning down the page before anyone can stop her.

MELISSA: Wow…this guy is huge. This book stinks pretty bad, doesn't it? Heyyy-

Wesley, fairly having a cardiac arrest by this point, has snatched the book back and now lovingly cradles it in his arms protectively, staring open-mouthed in shock at the girl, unable to believe what she has just done.

CORDELIA: Ooooh, you touched his books. It took me months. In the end I felt we'd shared something special.

GUNN: Melissa, dammit, I told you and Jules not to do this, didn't I?

JULES: What the hell did she do? If Ms Longstocking here and his slutty auntie can't handle somebody touching their precious first editions-

CORDELIA: Hey!

Gunn leaps up from his seat, exasperated. Angel stops him with a hand on his chest.

ANGEL: This stops, now.

GUNN: Man, give them a chance, they just bein'-

ANGEL: I didn't mean the arrangement, Gunn. Just this argument. It stops, now.

Gunn sits back down. In the moment of quiet which follows, Angel speaks, softly but firmly, in his own authoritative style which people listen to without knowing why. He addresses Melissa and Jules firstly.

ANGEL: I'm not gonna waste my time giving you a talk on respecting the goods and possessions of other people. We do important work here. Those books are old. If they get damaged, people might die because of it. So don't dare accuse Wesley of getting his priorities wrong, understand that.

After absorbing this, Melissa turns to Cordelia and Wesley.

MELISSA: Um…

WESLEY: No no, my dear, it's perfectly all right. I…er…admit to being a little protective over my books. No need for any sort of apologies, is there-?

CORDELIA: I'm thinking…words slutty and auntie!…yes.

WESLEY: Cordelia…

CORDELIA: But then again, I was known to make the odd cutting remark at that difficult, oh-ever-so-childish age…so let's allow it to pass, this time.

MELISSA: Actually, I was just gonna ask if there was any food on the go.

Cordelia's eyes widen in outrage.

CORDELIA: You-!

JULES: Heh…she's just fooling with ya. Honest.

Everyone turns to Melissa for confirmation of this claim. She responds with a shrug.

MELISSA: What can I say? I'm also known to make the odd joke at this difficult, ever-so-childish age.

She and Cordelia face off, neither prepared to give an inch.

ANGEL: (wistfully) It'll be good to see The Duke again…

Act I, Scene VI

Back in Melissa and Jules' room. Both slouch as only teenagers can across their respective beds. The door is closed firmly, and each speaks in what is barely above a whisper. The scene is one of two people who are not used to privacy.

MELISSA: They seem OK.

JULES: They're not like us, Mel. I mean, they say they've done good things out there but I have trouble swallowin' that. That guy Wesley looks like he'd faint at a crossword puzzle. And as for the mouthy babe-

MELISSA: (slight smile) Babe, eh…?

JULES: Aw, c'mon, I'm not sayin' she's not fine but she's annoying. She says whatever she wants, almost like there's nothing between her brain and her mouth…

MELISSA: You're right. She sounds like…us. (beat) We should have her killed.

JULES: I give up. You're too damn smart for me, as usual. Which reminds me-?

MELISSA: I know, I know. They're going out later to search for this Duke guy, remember. We're s'posed to hang around here and not burn the place down.

JULES: And I thought this sanctuary deal was gonna be easy.

MELISSA: You trust Angel?

JULES: Yeah, I think I do. I didn't want to, but you can't help trust him somehow.

MELISSA: We've actually got someone who will look out for us, Jules. Now if I weren't a cynical sort, I'd be touched by that. Of course, we're still gonna have to make his life as much of a living hell as possible.

She and Jules share a grin.

MELISSA: What sort of teenagers would we be otherwise?

Act I, Scene VII

Melissa and Jules walk from the bottom of the steps into the lobby area, where another meeting is taking place. Angel and Gunn are tooled up for war; Angel has his arm stakes weaponry fitted, and Gunn is packing.

MELISSA: Are we allowed to ask, or what?

Cordelia glances over, ready to begin another bout. To her surprise, all Melissa does is offer her a slight genial smile and a wink.

WESLEY: (to Angel) This is madness, Angel. Pure and unadulterated folly.

ANGEL: He asked, I accepted, Wes. You don't know how he works, I do.

As the conversation continues, Cordelia detaches herself from it and comes over to the two, leaning in to whisper in a conspiratorial way.

CORDELIA: Basically; out on recon, Angel finds message from Big Rocky Vampire Guy naming a time and place for the big fight (rolls eyes) and so naturally Mr Ever So Mature over there intends to go there with only Gunn as backup. Even though it is so a trap…

GUNN: I like traps. You know what you're getting into with a good trap.

ANGEL: It's not a trap. It'll be him there, alone and unarmed. He likes audiences but he doesn't need them. All he's interested in is the contest.

WESLEY: You're planning to actually engage him? Using what? The late Marquis of Queensbury rules?

ANGEL: Relax, Wes. I can take this guy.

WESLEY: How can you be sure of that? You fought him decades ago, Angel.

ANGEL: Well, I have confidence in my ability to face him vampire-to-vampire, warrior-to-warrior, mano-a-mano, winner takes all. And I also have full faith in Gunn's ability to shoot him in the back with a crossbow.

He pats Gunn on the shoulder. Gunn hefts the crossbow and grins. The two move off toward the doors and the battle. Angel takes the time to call over his shoulder-

ANGEL: They're allowed to use the fridge. But not the weapons cabinet.

GUNN: Yeah, that's kinda a grey area.

JULES: I knew I liked his style.

Act I, Scene VIII

Angel and Gunn in Angel's car, presumably on the way to the suggested meeting point. Gunn has reclined himself down as much as possible to avoid being seen.

GUNN: How are they doing?

ANGEL: They play loud music during the day. Jules is stealing some of my blood and using it to fingerpaint his walls with song lyrics. Melissa has gone about a project to catch me coming out of the shower with what I can only describe as military precision. They irritate Wesley to distraction, and I'm not sure I trust them.

Gunn takes a long, long look at his friend.

GUNN: Is it just my crazy mind, or are you enjoying having 'em stay?

Angel makes no reply. Gunn grins and shakes his head, amazed and bemused equally.

ANGEL: It's not as bad as I thought it might be. They're still alive.

GUNN: I can't thank ya enough for not killin' them yet, did I mention?

ANGEL: Why are they so special to you, Gunn?

GUNN: Because they're smart. Scary smart. I knew a lot of poor kids, Angel. I was one. Most of them were OK with being victims. I wasn't. I had to use what I had, and what I had was on the end of my arms (makes fists) and my legs. Those two used what they had up here (taps forehead). They could be somethin', both of them.

ANGEL: They lovers?

GUNN: That's the funny thing…no. They've basically grown up together since they met, I think they were about age eight, something like that. Maybe someday they will be.

ANGEL: Somehow I think I'll be the first to know if they do.

GUNN: They like you, though. Easy to tell. I have a theory why.

ANGEL: Because they recognise that I'm a lost soul the same as they are, they know that I feel the same isolation from society but they also see how I don't let it affect me, and how sincere I am when I say that I'll protect them with my life.

Gunn makes a face at this theory.

GUNN: Well, I was thinkin' more like because they're two little bastards who've just discovered the God of Brooding, but yeah, whatever.

ANGEL: Remind me again why I don't ever dock your pay?

GUNN: Remind me why you haven't hired yourself some other loser who's willin' to hide in the shadows with a crossbow and shoot a demon in the back?

The car comes to a halt at a ruined service station, possibly host to a gun battle at some point in recent history. As Gunn buries himself in the front of the car, Angel exits the vehicle cautiously, glancing around.

ANGEL: Duke…?

Act I, Scene IX

We see Angel and Gunn pulling away from the hotel as they did at the beginning of the previous scene, but this time from a different angle, some distance in the opposite direction. As the car vanishes the camera reveals the huge hulking figure of The Duke, watching. Cut to his face, which bares the scars received as a mortal and which subsequently never healed; a broken nose, dislodged cheekbones, the ravages of a life spent in the bareknuckle arena. When he speaks to himself he does so with an Irish brogue which is neither musical or lilting, but fast and hard.

DUKE: People change, Angelus. People grow, and they learn…that's what makes a good fighter a great fighter.

He begins walking toward the entrance of the hotel.

Act I, Scene X

Back at the service station. Gunn taps his fingers on the crossbow impatiently as he waits in the car. Angel prowls around outside, moving from pump to pump and glancing around.

ANGEL: Duke, I'm gonna have trouble kicking your ass if you keep hiding like this. Now…I realise you might be scared, but that's only your natural cowardice, nothing to be ashamed of, we all havaaaaaagh-

He falls to the ground in pain. Gunn is up and ready in an instant, his crossbow pointed and aimed in a fraction of a second. What he sees, however, presents him with no target; it is only Angel there, but he is in clear distress, on his knees in the dirt moaning. Gunn vaults over the hood of the car and runs to him.

GUNN: What the hell's wrong with you?

We focus in on Angel's face. Abruptly the scene changes to the usual mixture of images and chaotic breaks and flashes of light which accompany the visions of Cordelia; we should see very briefly Melissa and Jules, the Duke, the hotel, Wesley and Cordelia herself, and sounds of suffering. Angel gasps with the intensity of the vision and the rush, until it breaks and he slumps to the ground. Gunn picks him up.

GUNN: Angel! Angel! You all right?!

ANGEL: A trap…a trap…

He struggles to his feet, aided by Gunn, and staggers to the car. Motioning to Gunn to get in, they screech off at full speed. Angel is so caught up with driving as fast as he can and fishing his cellphone from his pocket that he ignores Gunn's obvious confusion until Gunn snaps.

GUNN: What just happened? Where are we going?

ANGEL: (dialling) Vision.

GUNN: Wait a min…you? I thought Cordelia was Vision Girl?

ANGEL: (phone at ear) I know.

GUNN: What'd ya see? Him?

ANGEL: (to Gunn and into phone) He's at the hotel. Now. Get out the back. I'll be there as soon as I can. Go!

The sound of a scream comes over the cellphone. Angel's face morphs as he hears it. The car roars through a intersection at an incredible speed.

ANGEL: NO!

Act I, Scene XI

The hotel lobby, before the events of the previous scene. Angel and Gunn have just exited the building, leaving Cordelia and Wesley facing Melissa and Jules. All four stare at each other a moment.

CORDELIA: TV?

WESLEY: Or a board game?

Cordelia snorts derisively. Melissa and Jules exchange a long look. Wesley seems embarrassed.

JULES: Scrabble?

He and Melissa grin at Cordelia's amazement. Wesley seems equally pleased.

MELISSA: I've always been a fan of Scrabble. Taught this guy everything he knows.

WESLEY: Splendid!

CORDELIA: Ugh. Please. Scrabble? Why don't we have a spelling bee and show-and-tell, make it a triple bill of how-to-not-have-fun-educationally.

MELISSA: Well, if high school girl is afraid of a street kid like me…

CORDELIA: Ah! Yeah! Right! I turned down more colleges than you've washed windshields. I am gonna kick your a…pos-terior. Or…I would…if we actually owned a Scrabble set…

JULES: We brought one. It's in our room.

MELISSA: Yeah, we'll get it now.

WESLEY: We'll be waiting!

Melissa and Jules leap up the staircase and into the bowels of the hotel. Cordelia glowers after Melissa. Wesley saunters over to her, in quite a good mood.

CORDELIA: They brought Scrabble? What kind of kids are these?

WESLEY: I rather think th-

He stops as the door to the hotel is opened. In, calmly, steps The Duke. He is immediately king of all he surveys; little wonder he has such a grandiose title. As Cordelia and Wesley back away in unison his massive head sweeps around to take in the décor, the ceiling, the floor…and lastly, the two humans.

DUKE: Good evening, sir. Good evening, madam.

CORDELIA: (hissing to Wesley) I hate the polite ones. Always nutser.

DUKE: Ah, now ye wouldn't be afraid of me, would ya? Don't be silly, sir, madam. I'm sorry to have to call ya both that but I'm afraid that ye have me at rather the disadvantage, y'see…

WESLEY: You set a time and a place with Angel, he's on his way there now.

DUKE: I know, I know that, yes sir.

He takes off his overcoat and drapes it across the sofa, before going to the reception desk and running his hand along its surface with a smile. The politeness of the speech complements his regal bearing, but seems set at odds against the murderous glint in his eyes.

DUKE: A nice place he has here. Ah, (holds up a finger) I can't help noticin' that ye seem inclined to burst into a run…I'm talkin' to ya at the moment. I'm not finished. Now I reckon it'd be pretty damn easy for me to snap ye both in half, but that's not somethin' I'd want to be doin' just now.

WESLEY: What do you want?

DUKE: I've talked to an awful lot o' people about Angel, sir. And the more I did the more it seemed clear to me that he's got too much goin' for him with this nice wee set-up and all to play fair when I asked him. Now it's my own personal guess that he was plannin' on some type of shenanigans tonight. Tell me if I'm wrong?

No response is forthcoming. The Duke nods, still not seeming angry.

DUKE: I appreciate your honesty, really I do. I heard Angel had a little run-in with Boone not a long time ago (smiles) sure he should be in fine form for me when he gets back. Until then…

He looks at Cordelia and Wesley, who back onto the first stair of the staircase. Seeing this, the Duke smiles, quite amused.

DUKE: Look at ye both, expectin' me to fly at you at the drop of a hat. I am thirsty as it happens, but something tells me Angel's not in the habit of snackin' down on his employees, so I think I'll just look around for where he'd be keeping his blood…oh by the way-

He draws a handgun on them calmly, and motions for them to stop their retreat.

DUKE: These things save time and energy, they're marvellous. Now ye wouldn't think a vampire of the likes of me would be a good shot, would ya…but we must move with the times. I'll be wantin' you two to be nicely tied up. Give him something to fight for, that sorta thing. So get over here. Both of you.

Powerless to do anything but comply, Cordelia and Wesley move toward the Duke.

Act I, Scene XII

Jules and Melissa enter their room, having just arrived from reception. The hotel being large and the Duke's entry understated, they know nothing as yet of what has transpired.

JULES: Let's see what you got…

Melissa produces various articles secreted about her person and dumps them on her bed. There are several pens and pages of various sizes and colours. She seems delighted with this haul.

JULES: You know Mel, they mighta just gave you the stuff, if you'd asked.

MELISSA: Yeah they might-but then they'd have been asking questions and getting all interested. Angel would have sneaked in here and read some of it…trust me.

JULES: Angel's a vampire, Mel. He can't come in here unless he's invited.

MELISSA: Really? Even though this hotel is his?

JULES: Hey, I never thought of that…

Melissa taps him on the head, grinning.

MELISSA: See, these creatures of the night…they just don't think. If a vampire wanted to be unstoppable all he'd have to do is become real big in the world of real estate. Too many bloodsuckers in the law industry, not enough in property.

She stashes the writing material under her bed securely.

JULES: What do you wanna do now?

MELISSA: We'd better get that Scrabble set we brought…

They dissolve into laughter.

MELISSA: We'd better go back down. I don't want them prying around in here any more than I can help, and you know they'll be looking for us…

JULES: What are we gonna say when they ask about Scrabble?

MELISSA: Dunno, we'll think of something sulky enough to say that won't get us into trouble. Maybe we came up here, had us some sex, forgot about it?

JULES: I must have missed that.

MELISSA: You were fantastic, don't worry.

They laugh…a little awkwardly. There is a slight pause; we feel that there is more to this situation than either are letting on, but neither seems willing to back away from the comforting levels of banter both have built up over the years. Not quite meeting each other's gaze, they exit the room and begin the walk back to reception.

JULES: You ever gonna let anyone read your stuff?

MELISSA: It's a possibility.

JULES: Me, for example?

MELISSA: Well, that would involve teaching you to read, Jules…so excuse me if I'm less than ow-

She rubs her upper arm and returns the blow, causing Jules to wince.

JULES: I never called you weird for doing it, did I? You'd sit there, all quiet, just writing in the shelter and everyone else would be giving you a hard time for it; what was I doing?

MELISSA: Getting me paper.

JULES: All those crimes I went through to give your career a lift…I just want to know I didn't risk years in the slammer for nothing, is all. Plus, I know how smart you are; you've gotta be good, what are you afraid of?

MELISSA: Being good.

JULES: What?

MELISSA: What d'you mean, what? How can I win? If you told me I was awful I'd say to myself I can improve. But you tell me I'm good…be real, Jules, what chance do I have, will I ever have, of making a go of it? Let me enjoy being weird and dreaming, OK?

This registers on Jules. He licks his lips. (this entire conversation is taking place while both are on the move)

JULES: I'm sorry.

MELISSA: You'll be the first.

The words hang.

MELISSA: …to…read them. You'll be the first to read them.

JULES: Thanks.

Again neither is willing to comment.

Act I, Scene XIII

As we return to the lobby we get a quick flash of Angel in his car speeding through the streets. In the lobby itself, Cordelia and Wesley are now securely bound on the sofa at reception, though not gagged. The Duke idly leans against the reception desk, his gun resting in his hand. With his free hand he holds a tall glass filled with what is obviously some of Angel's private blood supply. He takes a swig.

DUKE: Ya know, there are some vampires who go through all sortsa hysterics when they have to sup a wee bit of the pig's blood in an emergency. I tell ya-(takes another swig)-it may not have the fizz, but it has the weight, you know? Sure they should stick one of those things that makes a pint from a can…a widget?…in it, it'd be fantastic.

The two humans look more than faintly nauseated. The Duke finds this rather funny.

CORDELIA: What if Angel loses? (beat) Not that he's going to, but if he does…

DUKE: I dunno. I might let ye all go. I mean, I had to make the choice early on, kinda thing, either I kept up the belief in the honour of combat or I just started killin' and drinkin' all over the place like the rest of them.

CORDELIA: (whispers) He doesn't seem all that bad…

DUKE: On the other hand, a man's gotta unwind somehow. Yeah, I'll probably eat the lot of ya, come to think of it.

CORDELIA: So glad we got that ironed out.

DUKE: (shrugs) At least I won't torture ya like some o' them would. Unless I'm lucky enough to mortally wound Angel, so he dies slow, and then…I dunno…I might make him watch, you know, the old 'rubbing the face in it' deal. (thinks about it) Yeah, that sounds good.

WESLEY: Just a suggestion, Cordelia. Stop talking to him. Please?

The phone rings, cutting her off mid-curse. The Duke seems pleased at this. While it rings, he begins speaking to the two hostages.

DUKE: That'll be the boss, I suspect, callin' to report my no-show. Now I want a nice juicy scream out of ya. A big one, now, don't be afraid to be emotin' with this one. Pretend I've just bitten your friend there, say. (considers this for a moment) Y'know...

CORDELIA: All right, all right!

The Duke nods, pleased, and picks up the phone. We hear-

ANGEL: (V/O) He's at the hotel. Now. Get out the back. I'll be there as soon as I can. Go!

While we hear Angel's voice, the Duke nods to Cordelia. She opens her mouth a little reluctantly…and is suddenly hit by a vision. As usual, it causes her immense pain and mental anguish. She strains against the ropes, screaming and crying.

ANGEL: (V/O) NO!

The Duke ends the call, grinning. Wesley, by now having realised what has really caused Cordelia to play along, is trying manfully to strain at his ropes enough to see if she is all right. She is suddenly, abruptly, silent.

WESLEY: Cordelia? Cordelia? Cordelia…?!

Act I, Scene XIV

Walking through the hotel towards the reception, Melissa and Jules stop in horror when they hear the screams coming from down there.

JULES: Sounded like Cordy…

He makes to break into a run, and is caught by Melissa before he can do so.

MELISSA: Would you ever think for a moment! What the hell are we likely to be able to do about whatever is down there, huh? (she looks frightened) Besides, you know as well as I do who they're after.

JULES: I know that-but we can't…

MELISSA: We have to run. Now. This place isn't safe.

JULES: I can't just run and leave. You go, get safe. Cordy and Wesley might be dead already, I have to know.

Melissa makes to argue, and sees the expression on Jules' face. She seems caught between anger at his stubbornness and a large tinge of shame at her own cowardice.

MELISSA: If you get killed, I'll-

JULES: -kill me?

MELISSA: Die.

Jules says nothing.

MELISSA: Just go, you idiot. You know where I'll be.

Jules runs off. Melissa looks after him, sighs, hisses in frustration again, then moves to follow him.

Act I, Scene XV

Back at reception. The Duke has just completed a quick check of Cordelia's neck.

DUKE: She's alive, man. Calm down. Wow. That was some performance!

WESLEY: She had a vision, that wasn't acting!

DUKE: Vision?

Wesley realises he's probably said something he shouldn't have. As the Duke is currently sitting next to him casually holding a gun, though…

WESLEY: She…gets psychic messages. Usually accompanied by pain. She's never passed out before, please…I'm begging you, stop this.

The Duke looks at him, incredulously.

DUKE: (sarcastically) Oh all right then, sorry to have you troubled ya, like. I'll just dismantle this plan I've been workin' on for ages because you're not having fun as a hostage, sure.

WESLEY: Angel will kill you.

In an instant the Duke is by him, all geniality gone from his nature. He hisses into Wesley's face.

DUKE: Maybe. But that's the nature of the contest. And don't forget, Mr. English Gentleman sir, another evil bastard vampire might just have been happy to swan in here and suck you and the Visionary there dry to get Angel nice and frothy. So far all I've done is wave a gun at you; nothing you wouldn't expect to find going jogging in this city. So maybe you'd best appreciate that you're not doin' too badly, OK?

We cut from the close-up of their two faces to the stairway leading down to the reception, where Jules is peering cautiously at the scene unfolding below, obviously pretty shaken by what's going on. His nerves are not helped by a sudden hand on his shoulder, and only Melissa's other hand clamped over his mouth muffles his alarmed yelp of panic. When he's come to terms with her sudden appearance, she removes her hand.

JULES: (mouths) What are you doing?

Melissa holds up two crossbows, and grins. She hands the smaller one to Jules, who cannot quite believe what he's holding. Dumbfounded, he gapes at her. She leans across to him to enable her to whisper into his ear-

MELISSA: Weapons cabinet a grey area my ass…

Act I, Scene XVI

Angel's car. Angel's expression is one of truly fearsome concentration. Though we don't see the road (just a close-up of Angel and Gunn) we get the distinct impression that the car is doing close to a hundred through a busy city.

GUNN: Man, will you tell me what the-TRUCK! TRUCK!

The car sweeps around, missing an oncoming truck by millimetres and swerving through the onrushing traffic, cutting an erratic escape route and causing chaos in its wake. Gunn, standing up in his seat for a moment to check that no serious accidents were caused (and none were), sits back down and slams his fist against the dashboard in anger, frustration and a healthy dose of terror.

GUNN: You're gonna get us killed!

ANGEL: So buckle up.

Gunn does so, fixing Angel with an evil stare.

GUNN: Just tell me what you saw. Is it Cordy? Wes?

ANGEL: All of us.

Gunn is taken aback.

GUNN: All of USSSSS (emits a brief cry of terror as the car navigates through another knot of stunned traffic) …what were we doin'?

We close on Angel. Beat.

ANGEL: Arriving too late.

Act I, Scene XVII

Back at reception. The Duke taps his watch idly, and glances at the door. He paces a little from the seating area which holds Wesley and the still-unconscious Cordelia. Noting this, Jules peeks a head around the stairway and waves a hand while the Duke's back is turned, trying to attract Wesley's attention. He succeeds. Wesley frantically motions with his head and mouths 'get out'. Jules shakes his head and holds up the crossbow, grinning. Wesley's eyes widen.

DUKE: Is she not awake yet? Tch.

He turns, Jules ducks down out of sight. Wesley is seriously disturbed by this new development. He struggles to stay in focus to keep up with the smalltalk, but an idea occurs to him…

WESLEY: (loudly) So, Duke…is it true you're a fighter of incredible prowess?

The Duke frowns at this unexpected compliment.

DUKE: Aye, well…I don't like to be the braggin' type but…your friend Angel is the only person ever to have bested me in, well, must be a century or so.

WESLEY: You, er, don't seem to have much of a reach, if you don't mind me saying.

DUKE: Well I'm not much for reach. I'm more a power fighter.

WESLEY: Power will get you far, but surely you must realise…if you come up against an opponent with longer arms, better reach, you'll come off second best.

The Duke is offended at this criticism.

DUKE: Rubbish, man, rubbish. Me reach is not that bad, look-

He spreads his arms wide. For a good five, six seconds he is a perfect target for even an amateur shot with a crossbow, the gun pointing safely away, his chest open and exposed. Wesley, hoping and prodding for just this outcome, glances expectantly up at the stairway…

Time passes. Nothing happens. Wesley sighs.

DUKE: See?

WESLEY: (now uncaring) Yes, fantastic.

The Duke turns around again for another look through the doorway. Jules pops up again with the crossbow and gives Wesley the thumbs-up. Wesley skewers him with a glance, then motions again for him to escape. Jules shakes his head, steps nervously out a little for a better shot…aims…

He shoots. By the time the arrow has reached the Duke, has spun around through one hundred and eighty degrees and caught it easily in mid-air. He inspects it with an air of interest, while we see Jules, panicking, start to reload.

DUKE: Nice work on this, y'know. Does he file them himself?

WESLEY: Get the hell out of here!

Jules fires the second bolt from the crossbow. The Duke twists his body and reaches out another hand, lightning-fast, to snatch it from the air just as he did the first. He holds the two arrows in his grip for a moment before snapping both and allowing their broken remains to fall to the floor.

DUKE: You'll have to do a lot better than nnnnnghhh-

A shaft suddenly bursts forth from his chest, just to the right of his heart. As he staggers forward slightly with the shock we see that Melissa is behind him; she has entered from the street. Presumably she went out the back while Jules was signalling Wesley. Melissa looks pleased with herself.

MELISSA: I thought if I waited until you were in the middle of one of those long speeches of y-

WESLEY: (very urgently) He's not dead! Both of you, run! Now!

He is correct. The Duke breaks off the arrowhead with a grunt of pain, but is recovering with typical vampire-like speed, and growling in anger. His face has morphed into the demonic countenance.

Jules, unwilling to take the risk of running directly past the Duke in order to escape through the front doors, instead turns tail and dashes back into the hotel.

MELISSA: Jules, no!

Ignoring the obvious escape route of the doors directly behind her, she instead sprints for the stairwell, dodging a lunge from the Duke on the way. In the seating area all the bound Wesley can do is struggle vainly against his ropes. Melissa vaults up the stairs, the Duke in pursuit. Both disappear the same way Jules went.

We hear a car screeching outside. Moments later Angel and Gunn burst in, weapons at the ready. They take in the scene.

WESLEY: He's gone after them! Go!

Angel stops Gunn from following him with a hand on the chest.

ANGEL: Don't. Stay.

Without another word, he disappears up the stairwell. Gunn, confused as hell, is about to follow him anyway when he notices Cordelia's unconscious form. He is over at her side in a moment.

GUNN: Is she-?

WESLEY: Only unconscious. She had a vision.

Gunn begins to cut through their ropes with a knife.

GUNN: Her too?

Act I, Scene XVIII

Jules charges down the corridors of the hotel at full pelt, terror giving him new levels of speed. He's running pretty much blindly. We see no signs of a pursuer. Jules, casting frequent glances behind him, notices this fact too. He slows to a stop in the middle of a long corridor, darkness shrouding much of it. He pants.

JULES: Mel…

He takes a step back in the direction from which he came, agonised, clearly worried sick about Melissa-for all he knows, the Duke has gotten to her.

JULES: Mel? Mel…?

There is a muffled high-pitched sound from around the corner at the end of the corridor Jules is approaching. Hearing this, he quickens his pace, his face pale with anticipation of the sight that awaits him. Just as he is about to turn-

MELISSA: Jules?

Jules freezes. Melissa stands at the opposite end of the corridor, beckoning him to keep running. Realisation dawns on Jules, too late…as he makes to run, the Duke springs from the shadows and brings him to the floor. Melissa calls out in horror and begins to run toward them as Jules fights off his attacker desperately, but he is hopelessly out of his league against the Duke, who savagely twists his forearms and brings his fangs to bear…

Angel appears at that moment, lashing out with a foot to the Duke's head to break off the bite, then following in with a slam to the body to make his opponent release his grip on Jules, who falls to the ground clutching himself. Melissa reaches him and begins to move him to safety as the battle commences between the two vampires. We see little of this conflict itself-we stay with the two fugitives, as Melissa drags the moaning Jules.

MELISSA: Your arms are broken, I think…try not to move them, you're going to be all right, you hear me?

His face screwed up with pain, Jules can only manage a nod. Realising that for as long as they stay in the confines of the corridor they risk being exposed to collateral damage from the battle, Melissa kicks open the door of the nearest room and brings Jules in, props him up on the bed as he shakes in agony. The sounds of bodies being slammed are clearly audible from outside.

A loud thump-presumably a hefty blow has struck home-makes the walls shake. Reacting instinctively, Melissa grabs hold of Jules' arm. When she realises what she's done, she lets go and is horrified.

MELISSA: I'm so sorry. Try not to make noise. I-I think this should be over soon…

The door to the room opens, casting a rectangle of light over the pair. Mel sighs with obvious relief.

MELISSA: Finally!

She turns around, and stares into the smiling face of the Duke.

DUKE: My thoughts exactly.

We cut to outside the room. Angel lies sprawled on the floor, blood trickling from his mouth. He stares blankly ahead, his limbs limp.

DUKE (V/O) : He wasn't even worth staking.

He fends off Melissa's blows easily, knocking her to the ground. Outside, Gunn and Wesley round the corner and take in the sight of the immobile Angel.

The next few moments of this scene are played out silently.

Melissa's soundless scream draws the attention of Welsey and Gunn, who burst into the room as the Duke is feeding hungrily from Jules. His body hits the floor. Gunn draws his crossbow and gets off a shot which the Duke manages to avoid, but as he does so Wesley rushes forward and catches him on the jaw with a straight fist. Gunn ditches the bow in favour of two stakes (which he pulls from a waist holster, rigged up from the aborted ambush earlier). Gunn throws the second stake to Wesley as both men tackle the vampire.

Again, we cut from the battle to focus on the two kids. Melissa has made her hysterical way to Jules' limp form and is desperately seeking a pulse. We see her start to perform CPR as, behind her, the Duke savagely lays into his attackers. First Gunn and then Wesley are tossed aside, until the Duke stands triumphant once again.

He looks surprised when the crossbow bolt appears in his chest. Our perspective changes; standing at the doorway, Gunn's discarded crossbow in his hand, blood still trickling from his mouth, is Angel.

Sound returns as the usual FX noise for vamp disintegration is played. Angel falls to his knees, obviously in serious pain, coughing. A similarly beat-up Wesley nonetheless rushes to Jules.

WESLEY: Ambulance is on the way for them. Let me-

MELISSA: He's not breathing! I can't make him breathe!

She stops the respiration for a moment, tears streaming down her face.

MELISSA: Please-please-make him breathe. Don't let him die. Please, please-

Wesley resumes the CPR by way of answer. Gunn staggers over to Angel, haggard.

GUNN: You all right?

ANGEL: (weakly) He's not going to make it.

MELISSA: Don't say that!

She rushes to Angel in panic, her terror and grief manifesting as rage against him.

MELISSA: You said you could protect us! You said if we stayed here, we'd be safe! And now he's going to die-

Angel gets to his feet and brushes past her as she sinks to her knees. He stands over the body of Jules and Wesley, still maintaining the respiration.

ANGEL: Wes, we need to get him down to the entrance.

Wesley nods. Angel stoops and picks up the boy, his teeth clenching a little-the Duke's attack will take some time to recover from fully. As he stands up, we hear the distant wail of ambulance sirens, getting louder.

Cut to reception. An ambulance crew bursts through the doors as Wesley, Gunn, Melissa and Angel, still carrying Jules, charge down the steps to meet them.

Jules is packed into the back of an ambulance, Melissa and Gunn with him. Wesley and Angel help Cordelia to her feet.

WESLEY: What happened? What did you s-

Cordelia takes one look at Angel, and floors him with a punch. Wesley is, to put it mildly, rather astonished by this. Cordelia stands over Angel, anger and betrayal on her face.

CORDELIA: What were you thinking?! Have you lost your mind?!

Angel rubs his chin and makes no reply. Wesley restrains Cordelia, struggling.

WESLEY: Cordelia, it's not his fault! The Duke was too strong for him, nearly too strong for all of us, Jules-

ANGEL: (rising) I can't explain.

WESLEY: -Jules may pull through-

CORDELIA: You monster.

WESLEY: -he's still breathing…what on earth is going on?

CORDELIA: Jules isn't going to pull through. He's gonna die.

Wesley is shocked, and deeply saddened.

WESLEY: You saw it in the vision…

ANGEL: I had to do something.

CORDELIA: Is that what you call it? Something? This has changed everything!

WESLEY: Cordelia, aren't you being a little harsh? Jules' death is-

CORDELIA: …temporary.

Wesley's mouth opens and closes. He's lost, deeply lost.

CORDELIA: Because, before sunrise, he's going to suddenly feel a whole lot less dead, isn't he, boss?

…as she talks, we flashback to the transit of Jules' body from the room where he was fed upon to the reception of the hotel. As the group charge down a corridor, we zoom on Angel, who brings his hand up to his bleeding mouth, smears it in blood, and allows it to trickle into the gaping mouth of the boy.

The flashback ends.

WESLEY: You're suggesting that Angel sired him?! That's absurd!

ANGEL: She's right.

The words shake Wesley. He releases his hold on Cordelia, who, while not resuming her earlier attacks on Angel, seems barely able to contain her rage and betrayal. Wesley stares at Angel for long, long moments. Then, with four or five purposeful strides, he walks over and picks up one of the crossbows used against the Duke by Melissa and Jules during the skirmish in reception. He aims the bow directly at Angel's heart.

WESLEY: Start talking. Now.

END OF ACT I