Part 3
Scene 1
About a week or two later. The Bronze. We’re looking in from a back door (?), seeing the perspective of someone scanning the room—it’s crowded. We hear a familiar voice speaking.
Drusilla: “Don’t worry sweet. I’ll find her. It’ll be easy—like a needle in a haystack. Always loved that game.”
The perspective changes and we see her step through the doorway and walk slowly into the bar, but we don’t see who she’s talking to. Next we see Miranda sitting at a table near the bar, by herself. She’s just ordered a drink and is checking her watch. She’s dressed to go out and has a look of anticipation. Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, Dru is standing in front of her.
Drusilla: “You’re a pretty piece of flesh, aren’t you?”
Miranda: [a bit freaked out by loopy girl] “Do I know you?”
Drusilla: “What will he say when he can’t find you...will he know I’ve been a naughty girl?”
Miranda: “Can I help you with something? Perhaps a cup of coffee. Or a trip to the psych ward. And what the hell kind of accent IS that?”
Drusilla: “Thought he could hide it, he did. But he can’t hide anything from me. D’you know how I knew you? He smells like you from the inside.”
Miranda: [it’s suddenly dawning on her] “Drusilla?”
Drusilla: [crazy laugh] “He didn’t tell you, did he? Naughty Spike. Hiding things. [leaning in and whispering] I know your secret.”
Miranda: “Is this some sort of jealousy thing, because...”
Drusilla: “He’s a smart one, my Spike. He’ll be cross that I stole his gem. But he’ll forgive me. Always does.”
Miranda: “What do you want?”
Dru just smiles and starts to move away—seems to disappear into the crowd. Miranda is a bit freaked out. She scans the bar. She decides to call the house to see if Spike has left yet, but finds that she’s left her cell phone in the shop. She gets up to find a pay phone.
Fast forward an hour. We’re back in the bronze. Now we see Spike sitting at the bar with a beer, scanning the dance floor. He asks the bartender what time it is. He frowns and orders another drink.
Later that night—nearing sunrise. Buffy’s house.
Loud knocking on the door. The house stirs. Xander and Anya are asleep on the couch. Buffy rubs her eyes as she sleepily walks downstairs. As she does so, an alarm goes off near Xander’s head and he tumbles out off the couch as he jumps at the sound. More loud knocking.
Buffy: [bleary eyed] “I thought we weren’t getting up until 5:30; what’s with the knocking?”
Xander: “uh, I think that’s the door. And we have to get an early start if we’re going to make it to San Francisco by this afternoon.”
Buffy: “Whatever. I can sleep in the car, right?”
Xander: “What? No. It’s a road trip—it’s your job to keep me entertained.”
Anya: “But not in the way that I keep you entertained in the car, right Xander?”
Xander: “Uh, no; I’m thinking more witty conversation and maybe some showtunes. Aren’t you going to see who’s at the door?”
Buffy: “The door. Right. Who could be stopping by—just about everyone we know is either out-of-town or in this house.”
She opens the door. It’s Spike, looking a frazzled. He walks right in.
Spike: “Oh, so this is where you all are. Good. Miranda’s gone missing—it’s almost daylight, so I thought you could help out with the day shift.”
Buffy: “Woh. Slow down—it’s like far too early to process more than a couple of words at a time. Define ‘missing’.”
Spike: “We were supposed to meet at the Bronze at 11 and she never showed. She’s not at the house or the shop and I’ve poked my head in every bar in town.”
Xander: “Did it occur to you that she may have just suddenly come to her senses and decided to skip town to get away from you?”
Spike: [look with daggers directed to Xander, but he leaves it alone] “Her car is still parked behind the shop.”
Buffy: “Maybe there was just some emergency—something antique-y. She’s only been gone a few hours.”
Spike: [dead serious] “She’s missing. Let’s mobilize the powder-puff gang and go find her, right?”
Buffy: “Sorry Spike. We can’t help—we’re on our way out of town. Xander is driving me and Dawn to San Francisco to meet our dad—we’ll be gone a few days.”
Spike: “What about Giles and the birds?”
Buffy: “Giles is in England and Willow and Tara are at some witch thing in the desert.”
Spike: “So postpone your trip. I need your help to find her.”
Buffy: “I can’t do that. We have to go—Dawn needs this.”
Spike: [sarcasm] “I’m sorry, I thought Miranda was your friend. And, I don’t know, usually when one of you lot disappears, you come bursting through my front door insisting on my help within seconds.”
Buffy: “Miranda IS our friend. But she’s also Immortal—I don’t know why you’re so worried. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
Xander: “He’s just worried he’s lost his meal ticket.”
[Spike takes a glass and throws it hard against the wall right next to Xander’s head]
Buffy: “I think you should leave now.”
Spike: [complete frustration] “You BITCH. I can’t believe you won’t help me with this.”
Buffy:[sincere] “I really am sorry—if we weren’t leaving town...”
Spike: “ah, sod off. Find her myself.” [He starts to walk out the door]
Anya: “Spike, wait. I’ll help. I’m watching the magic shop while Giles is away, so I’ve got nothing better to do.”
Spike just gives her a nod and continues to scowl at the rest of them.
Xander: “You don’t have to do that, honey—won’t you be busy making money at the shop?”
Buffy: “I think it’s a great idea. And if you haven’t found her by the time we get back, we’ll mobilize the troops.”
Spike: “Yeah, whatever. [to Anya] Let’s go then—sun’ll be up soon”
Anya: “I can’t go now. I have to get dressed and say goodbye to Xander. Come by the magic shop in an hour.”
Spike: “Fine.” He storms out, very pissed and slams the door.
Scene 2
At the Magic Shop. The sun’s up. Anya unlocks the front door and walks in. Spike is already inside, sitting on the counter smoking.
Anya: “You can’t smoke in here. It smells. And you might start a fire. Not to mention, how did you get in? If you can get in, robbers can get in and I can’t have anyone walking off with my money.”
Spike: “Don’t get your knickers in a twist. No one else will get in the way I did.”
Anya crosses her arms and glares at him until he puts out his cigarette.
Spike: “So what’s the plan?”
Anya: “You’re asking me?”
Spike: “Well you’re usually around when the scoobies do their detective thing—they only call me in for the muscle bits.”
Anya: “I rarely pay attention to all that—it can be very boring.”
Spike: “Great.”
Anya: “Maybe we should just try to pretend we’re them—think like they do—you be Giles and I’ll be Buffy.”
Spike: “Oh god. I flat out refuse to be Giles.”
Anya: “Fine. I’ll be Giles. [she scrunches up her face trying to imitate G] We must cease all fun and banter and do lots and lots of research and it must be boring and take lots of time that could be spent doing other more interesting things.”
Spike: “Oh that really helps.”
Anya: [continuing] “Buffy, you should go check out the scene to look for clues.”
Spike: “Whoa, I’m not Buffy.”
Anya: “If I’m Giles, you’re Buffy.”
Spike: “This is ridiculous”
Anya: “No it’s not. I think you should go to the Bronze and look for clues.”
Spike: “It’s daylight, I can’t. You go. When it gets dark, I’ll hit the demon bars to see if they’ve heard or seen anything.”
Anya: “I can’t leave the shop, so whatever we do, we’ll have to do from here.”
Spike: “Come on! [seeing by her expression that she won’t budge, he relents] Any ideas?”
Just then, the phone rings. She picks it up and deals with it. After she hangs up, she looks back at the phone and says definitively.
Anya: “We could make some calls. [thinking hard] Maybe she had an accident—maybe she was run over by a truck or hit by a bus or had a piano dropped on her head. Then they took her to a hospital—maybe she was unconscious or temporarily dead and so couldn’t call. So we could call all the hospitals and ask if anyone has been brought in. Ooh, I’m getting the hang of this—that was really good!”
Spike: “You make the calls. I can’t sit around until dark, so I’m going to search the tunnels. Meet back here?”
Anya: “Or maybe she ran into an Immortal. [very casually/chirpy—she’s very pleased with her newly found reasoning ability] There’d be something left, right? Not like a vampire who’d be dust. When she killed that Immortal guy—there was a body. And a head. Just not together. So I’ll be sure to ask about headless bodies...or body-less heads when I call.”
Spike: “What? I guess...”
It’s obvious that he had never considered the possibility that she could be dead. The expression on his face is pained shock. He bends over slightly, putting his hands on the top of his knees for a moment as he thinks about it.
Anya: [suddenly noticing his changed demeanor/pained expression] “Are you OK? Maybe you should sit down.”
Spike: “Not one for the kid gloves, then.”
Anya: [understanding] “Oh, right. I shouldn’t have mentioned that she could ACTUALLY be dead. That was insensitive. [trying to make up for it, she says confidently] I’m sure there’ll be no headless bodies. [beat] Or bodyless heads.”
Spike: [standing up; getting a hold of himself] “Make the calls.”
**
Anya calls all the hospitals & morgues in the city and outlying areas. Spike searches the scene and asks a lot of questions. He finds her cross necklace in the alley behind the Bronze—the chain is broken. No one else appears to have seen anything. He and Anya try a number of different things, but they don’t learn anything. They search for two solid days and are now back at the Magic Box.
Anya: “You should really get some sleep. You look like death. More than usual.”
Spike: [ignoring her; he does look ragged] “We must have missed something. People don’t just disappear into thin air.”
Anya: “Buffy and the others will be back the day after tomorrow. Maybe we should just wait for them—they’ll have more ideas.”
Spike: “It’s already been two and half days.”
Anya: “Does she have any friends besides us? Maybe back at the house she has an address book.”
Spike: [suddenly getting an idea] “That’s it...other Immortals. They have a thing that they can sense each other—even keep track of battles and other goings on. They might know something.”
Anya: “See, you can be Giles, too—and you didn’t even have to frown. Do you know how to get in touch with any of them?”
Spike: “Sure as hell not going to pay a visit to ‘the Wankers’—not exactly on good terms with those blokes. [thinking] She did mention one or two that she was friendly with at the antique show. Don’t know how I’d track ‘em d...[stops in mid-sentence. He’s thought of something. He puts his hands to his face and rubs his eyes] Oh FUCK. I have to go to L.A.”
Anya: “I can’t go to L.A.”
Spike: “S’alright. Better for me to go alone anyway. [pause. To himself] Balls.”
Scene 3
L.A.: Angel Investigations the next day (well, night). Spike paces outside the front door, periodically glancing at it; he obviously is having trouble deciding whether or not to go in.
Spike: “Fuck Fuck FUUUUCK. [he rests his forehead against the door in frustration] I can’t believe I’m bloody going to do this. FUCK.”
He takes a deep breath, opens the door and walks in. Cordelia is alone behind the desk.
Cordelia: “Spike. [under her breath “oh my god”; she fumbles under the counter for a stake, trying to look casual]. [loudly] Spike’s here. All the way from Sunnydale. Great to see you again, SPIKE. Can I get you a cup of coffee, I’ll just nip into the next room...”
Spike: “Cordelia. Still working for Mr. Sunshine? Can’t imagine why your acting career hasn’t taken off. Speaking of which, is he in?”
By this time, Wes, Gunn and Angel have arrived and a multitude of weapons are pointed in Spike’s direction.
Wesley: “What are you doing here, Spike?”
Spike: “Wesley. It’s been such a long time. I’m liking the stubble—makes you look less like an accountant. I’m shaking. Really.”
Just then, an arrow flies through the air toward Spike—he bats it away.
Spike: “Now that wasn’t very nice.”
Gunn: “Sorry, must have slipped.”
Spike: “Call your dogs off, Angel. I’m not here to make any trouble.”
Angel: “Have you ever made anything but?”
Spike: [at this, Spike smirks and lights a cigarette] “You got me there. [trying to reel in the attitude] Honestly, if I were up to something, would I seriously just walk through the front door like this? [Angel kind of shrugs in the affirmative] Ok, Ok, I probably would [this reasoning with them isn’t working very well.] This time, I just want to talk.”
Wesley: “Well then gentleman, he says he wants to talk. Perhaps we should lay down our weapons and fix some tea. What do you say?”
Angel: “And why should we believe you? Personally, I don’t have the tiniest bit of inclination to trust you and since it’s always better to be safe than sorry...” [he gives a ‘lets get him’ look to the rest and they start to move towards him]
Spike: “Hang on a minute. Don’t you EVER talk to your ex-girlfriend? Remember—blond girl, about this tall, attitude problem. If you had, you’d know that I couldn’t actually hurt your precious friends here if I wanted to.”
Angel: “Your lying.”
Spike: “Call her up if you like.”
Angel: “Cordy, get Buffy on the phone.”
Spike: [oh balls.] “She’s not home. Nobody’s home up there. Call the Magic Shop—Anya can give you the score.”
Angel: “Whose Anya?”
Spike: “You know, ex-vengeance demon. Dates Xander. Boy, you have missed a lot.”
Cordelia: “Xander is dating a...[corrects herself] Xander’s dating?”
Angel: “I’ve seen her. Let’s hear what she has to say.”
Spike rolls his eyes—do we really have to do this? They make the call. Angel talks to her. As soon as he hangs up, he starts laughing.
Angel: “It’s ok, he’s telling the truth.” [he can’t stop cracking up]
Spike: “Laugh it up, gel boy. I can still kick YOUR ass, if I were so inclined.”
Angel: “Yeah, she mentioned that, too. Sorry, I just find it very amusing that you of all people have been forceably de-fanged.”
Spike: “Pathetic, isn’t it? Guess now we have something in common.”
Wesley: “So what do you want?”
Spike: “I...uh...[takes a drag from his cigarette]...need your help with something.”
Angel: “This should be good. Let’s step into my office.”
He wants to keep Spike in close proximity—still doesn’t trust him. Angel sits behind his desk. Spike sprawls in the chair in front. Cordy comes in, but the others watch from just outside.
Cordelia: “So you want to hire us? Because even though we on occasion will ‘help the helpless’ for free, you certainly don’t qualify for that kind of treatment, so I hope you brought some cash.”
Spike: “Not a problem” [He pulls out a roll of bills and shows it to her. She looks pleased.]
Angel: “Just to start: there is no one on this earth that I would be less interested in helping than you, Spike. The only reason I’m even listening to you because I am fascinated by what could possibly possess you to even ask.”
Spike: “It’s about Miranda”
That got Angel’s attention.
Angel: “What about her?”
Spike: “She’s gone missing.”
Angel: “How long?”
Spike: “Three and a half days.”
Angel: “How do you know she didn’t just leave you?”
Spike: [trying so hard to contain his anger] “We’re living together now—she’s building me a bloody game room in her house. She didn’t LEAVE. Something happened.”
Angel: “What kind of game room?”
Spike: “You know, pool table, darts, video games and the like.”
Angel: “huh”
Spike: “That what you consider cutting edge detective work?”
Angel: “So why come to me?”
Spike: “She’s not in Sunnydale, I’m sure of it. When we were in town a few weeks ago, she mentioned a couple of Immortals—friendly types. Can’t remember their names or how to find ‘em. Thought since your group was doing the whole surveillance thing, you might have a record of who was there.”
Angel: “Why do you think they would know something?”
Spike: “Don’t know what she told you about her kind, but they’re not a very friendly lot—mostly run about trying to kill each other. It’s like some ongoing tournament—last one standing takes all. So they just pay attention, is all. Figure they might know something.”
Angel: “Cordy, pull the records from the Antique show—flag any of the dealers named Joseph or Samuel. See if you can track down an address or phone number.”
Spike: “There’s something else. Maybe.”
Angel: “I’m listening.”
Spike: “Dru came to see me. ‘bout a week ago. She mentioned she was back in L.A.”
Angel: “And you think she might have something to do with Miranda’s disappearance.”
Spike: [shrugs] “Have you seen her around? She’s been hanging out with one of those bone-marrow sucking demons...a rotten sort.”
Angel: “I don’t know, Spike. I mean, last I heard Dru was pretty much over you, so going out of her way to kidnap your girlfriend may be giving yourself a little too much credit. [noticing something in Spike’s demeanor] Unless there’s something else you’re not telling me.”
Spike: [Spike shrugs. It’s obvious there is something else—something he’s a bit uncomfortable saying] “Maybe. Have you seen her?”
Angel: “Not lately. But it’s a big city. Maybe you should explain why it is you think Dru might be involved, ‘cause otherwise, I don’t think it’s worth following up on.”
Spike: [thinking about this for a bit] “Yeah...uh...well you know she lets me bite her. [uncomfortable acknowledging look from Angel] Well we’ve noticed something recently—maybe to do with that—a change.”
Angel: “I’m not following you”
Spike: “Cordy. You got a compact in your purse?”
Cordelia: “Why, you want to check your make-up? Oh and why assume that I will have a mirror on me at all times?! [he turns to look at her] Ok, I do”
She fishes in her purse, pulls out a compact and passes it to Spike. She’s in the room now, standing behind Spike. He opens the case and holds it in front of his face.
Spike: “Why don’t you tell your boss what you see?”
Cordelia: [not thinking about it] “Not much. Just a pasty white vamp with peroxide hair. Big deal. [realizing, she grabs the mirror and looks more closely.] Holy crap. It’s kind of ghostly, but it’s definitely a reflection [she then takes the mirror and points it at Angel—nothing there] Wow, how’d you manage that?”
Spike: [shrugs] “Other things to. I can take the sun in small doses [he shows the difference between his two hands—one of them has a hint of color] We haven’t mentioned it to anyone. I mean, I know it’s nothing—just some physical apparition. No big deal. [leans in; lowering his voice] But, uh, maybe another Vamp might get ideas—jump to conclusions.”
Angel: [floored by this information, he doesn’t know how to react. This angers him, but he can’t exactly say why. Finally he says] “So that’s your game?”
Spike: [defensive] “Yeah, that’s it. I started shagging Miranda so I can hang out on the beach on Sundays—always wanted to learn to surf. No. Had no idea this would happen and I didn’t go pressuring her, if that’s what you’re thinking—she brought it up in the first place. I assumed she’d be just like everyone else—unbiteable because of this bloody chip. But she wasn’t. Tastes the same. [thinking for a moment] Well, actually a bit more dense or something—with just a hint of sweetness.”
Angel: “You’re sick, Spike”
Spike: “Can we just quickly move through this bloody self-righteousness crap—unless you’ve managed to completely castrate your inner demon, you’d do the same. Like I was saying, tastes like human blood but it obviously isn’t exactly.”
Angel: “And how would Dru have learned about this little bonus—I thought you didn’t mention it to anyone.”
Spike: “You know Dru—not exactly easy to hide things from her. I didn’t say anything, but she sometimes just knows things”
Angel: “Did you tell Miranda about Dru’s visit?”
Spike: “No, why would I? [it’s now occurring to him why he should have said something to M, but he won’t give Angel the satisfaction of seeing his guilt] It’s probably nothing—I mean Dru’s never been one for the ‘big plan’ type things—usually leaves that up to m...whoever she’s with.”
Angel: “True. But what works for blood may work for marrow and the prospect of invulnerability is a serious motivator.”
Spike gets a very worried look on his face.
Angel agrees to help and everyone gets to work. Over the next day and a half, they contact the Immortals, who don’t seem to know anything—at least she isn’t dead as far as they know. They eventually are able to locate Dru and her new boyfriend, who are running with a decent sized ‘gang’ of vampires and marrow demons holed up in the usual type cave/wharehouse kind of place. From talking to various sources, they also establish that Dru et al. do have Miranda captive. They work out a rescue plan, which essentially involves Spike going in the front to talk to Dru (and distract them), while Angel finds Miranda.