Scene 7
An hour or so passes. Miranda’s face is still held fast against Spike’s chest. He holds her up and to him—She has long since stopped crying and has not uttered a sound since. When one of his arms starts to shake from the strain, he shifts her lifeless weight to the other arm and gives it a break. Noticing his fatigue, Buffy is the first to speak to either of them.
Buffy: “Spike, maybe you should sit down for a minute.”
Spike: [in an irritated, but not too loud voice] “Sod off. You lot didn’t trust her and that means we don’t trust you, so leave us the fuck alone.”
Buffy: [surprised by his outburst] “Yeah, well, she’s not exactly been acting herself lately and in her current state, she might not have been so much in control. And don’t forget, she was the first to draw a weapon.”
Spike: “No, Angel was the first—vampire’s body’s his weapon.”
Buffy: [quietly] “I couldn’t take the risk with Dawn here.”
Spike: [hostile/bitter] “Guess it’s good to know where we stand, then innit?”
Buffy: [responding in kind] “Guess so.”
Miranda turns her head to the side so that her cheek is resting on Spike’s shoulder.
Miranda: [in a very tired voice] “It’s OK. We shouldn’t trust anything right now.”
Spike: [tenderly] “shhh, love.”
Miranda: “Let’s sit down a bit.”
M and S move over to the big chair and sit down. Everyone is looking at Miranda, but no one is saying anything—they don’t know what to say. An awkward silence ensues.
Angel: “Can I get you something? A glass of water?”
Miranda: “I’d quite like a cigarette and a glass of whiskey.
Spike hops up immediately and gets a pack out of his jacket. Xander is quick with the pouring of the whiskey and puts the glass in front of her. They are all staring awkwardly. Spike lights the cigarette and hands it to her—she picks up the glass.
Angel: “Are you sure you should be doing that? I mean, in your condition? [looking around for support] isn’t it bad?”
Miranda just gives him a disbelieving, irritated look—she wants to tell him to fuck off, but holds back and takes a drag. Spike just frowns and shakes his head.
Giles: “I think, under the circumstances, exceptions can be made.”
Xander: [cheerfully] “My mom smoked a pack a day when she was pregnant with me—and look how I turned out.”
Spike: “oh, God. Maybe you should reconsider, love.”
More tense silence.
Anya: [desperate to break it, as the tension is unbearable] “So what was your wedding like?”
Willow: [mortified] “What? Anya!”
Anya: [not perceiving the disbelieving shocked looks from everyone] “His tux was stunning and he mentioned your wedding, so I was just curious to know what it was like.”
Absolute horror on the faces of everyone—terrified of what Miranda’s reaction will be. After a beat, she cracks up with laughter and shakes her head.
Miranda: “ah, Anya—we can always count on you to break the mood. Uh, a wedding like any other I suppose. Big church, acres of white silk, champagne, flowers.”
Anya: “And cake? Was there a cake?”
Folks are still shooting Anya “stop it” looks, but she is oblivious.
Miranda: “There was—three tiers, it had.”
Anya: “Did you feel like a princess? They always say that.”
Miranda: “I suppose I did. It was, quite possibly, the happiest day of my life—right up to the moment when the priest said ‘until death do you part’.” [She lets out a small resigned laugh.]
Willow: “I’m sensing the need for a big change of subject right about now. Xander? Thoughts?”
Xander: “Uh, monopoly anyone?”
Dawn: “oooh, I get to be the top hat.”
Buffy: “no WAY. You always get the top hat. Fine. I call the car.”
Buffy, Xander and everyone but Giles, Angel, Spike and Miranda go across the room to play monopoly. Some time passes. Giles is flipping through a book. Miranda is sitting in the chair, Spike’s on the floor leaning against the chair and Angel is sitting on the floor leaning against the wall. They are all looking tired and bored. Giles suddenly gets that ‘discovery’ expression on his face (still reading from the book he’s holding).
Giles: “huh” [He’s still concentrating hard on the book.]
Miranda: [Not actually curious, but wanting anything to keep awake] “what huh?”
Giles: [scanning the book] “Oh, it’s just that like Willow said, the previous owner of the house was involved in fertility spells and such and so I was just looking through a few of her books—there’s a fairly straightforward spell here that may allow us to do a sort of paternity test. S’pose that’s what people did before DNA-testing. Can’t imagine it would’ve held up in court, however.”
Miranda’s eyes widen. There is absolutely NOTHING she wants less than Spike finding out about she and Angel—the thought of it makes her feel ill. Could this night BE any longer? Before she can say anything...
Spike: [calm, serious, but slightly defensive] “And what would we need that for?”
Giles: [at this, Giles looks up from the book and noticing his company (Angel, Spike and Miranda) and the look on Miranda’s face, he suddenly realizes that he shouldn’t have said anything—he’s tired too and his judgment isn’t what it should be. He tries to cover] “Oh, well, uh,...it is possible that the pregnancy could have a mystical origin, considering that neither vampires nor Immortals have been known to conceive—this would be a way of testing that possibility. So if we did the spell and there wasn’t a match, we’d know the pregnancy didn’t come about in the usual fashion.”
Miranda: [forgetting for a moment about S/A and thinking only about how to know definitively if the pregnancy is ‘real’ or not] “You really think it would work? On me—us?”
Giles: “It’s worth a try. Of course, we don’t have the necessary supplies here tonight—but I should be able to get everything at the magic shop. And then a sample—blood or hair from the potential father. Considering your vampires, I think hair would be more likely to work properly.”
Oh, god, he said ‘vampires’—Miranda holds her breath hoping Spike didn’t notice. As Giles finishes talking, Angel involuntarily runs his fingers through the hair on the back of his head.
Angel: “How long does it take?”
Spike: “What’s it to you?”
Up to this point, Spike is mainly concerned 1) that he might not be the father 2) about the humiliation of anyone finding out that he’s not the father or even the possibility that he’s not the father.
Angel: [very guilty look] “Just making conversation.”
Giles: [not paying attention to this exchange] “I’d like to show this to Willow—in case there’s something I’m missing.” [He walks over to the other side of the room.]
Spike is visibly thinking about something—that shallow frown he gets when he’s trying to figure something out. Miranda is trying (maybe a bit too hard) to appear casual—she exchanges a quick look with Angel (Spike doesn’t see this). He gets that it would be VERY bad for Spike to know what happened in LA—there could be violence/shouting—BAD BAD BAD!!]
Miranda: [chirpily] “You know what? I’m feeling a bit peckish.”
Angel: “I could stretch my legs—is there anything in the kitchen?” [He’s about to get up.]
Spike: [suddenly figuring something out, he gets a knowing smile/smirk on his face] “It was him. You’re one-off in LA. [to Angel] That’s why your bloody here.”
Miranda and Angel are just frozen—totally thrown by the direct accusation. It’s obvious from their reaction that it’s true.
Spike: [leaning back further against the chair] “Oh thank God.”
He starts laughing—the almost manic laugh of intense relief.
Angel: [to Miranda] “Not exactly the reaction I was expecting.”
Spike: [still laughing—genuinely] “Didn’t think you had it in you, mate. A bit above and beyond what I asked, but...” [more laughing]
Miranda: [very confused] “So, you’re not upset, then?”
Spike: [still looking very happy. Pointing] “He’s no more likely to be the father than me—less in fact. [explaining] I thought you’d shagged that Immortal bloke—seemed logical he’d be the likely candidate what with being the same as you and all. I’d been thinking about it all night.”
Miranda: [tenderly] “oh, Spike.” [Touched that he’d spent so much energy worrying about whether or not he was the father.]
Angel: “Where do you get LESS likely?”
Obviously annoyed by Spike’s reaction—not that he wanted to fight, but still...
Spike: [frowning now—he’d been so relieved to find out that it wasn’t the Immortal that he hadn’t thought about his animosity towards Angel] “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because she was so satisfied by your little one-nighter that she came back here and we fucked like bunnies for three days straight. How many times you think we did it, love? I lost count once we hit double digits.”
Angel: “Yeah, well I’ve got a soul, so...”
Spike: “Doesn’t that line get old after a while? Unless you keep your precious soul tucked away in your pecker for safe-keeping, I can’t imagine what difference it makes. It’s all down to probability and I’ve got that sorted.”
Angel: “Say what you want, Spike, but I think the timing is telling—assuming that it wasn’t just her neck you were interested in before your ex dragged her off to LA.”
Spike: [He’s only half listening to Angel and is still laughing it off for the most part. Oh, but then he gets a devilish grin on his face. To Miranda (sort of)] “’Course this means all bets are off—you owe me for this, love. [He lifts his head up and says loudly] Buffy, oh, Buffy—could you pop over for a minute?”
Angel: [threateningly mixed with a bit of pleading] “Spike, let’s not...”
Buffy leaves the monopoly game and walks over.
Buffy: [serious] “What’s up?”
Spike: [standing up; to Buffy] “Yeah, the thing is, slayer, we have to have sex.”
Buffy: [eye roll; uncomfortable glance to Angel] “That is so NOT funny.”
Spike: “Not trying to be funny, pet. Seems your hero here isn’t quite so heroic after all—taking advantage of damsels in distress and the like.”
Angel wants to say something but doesn’t—poor guy actually is worried that he might have taken advantage.
Buffy: [starting to get very uncomfortable] “What are you talking about?”
Spike: “Need to spell it out for you? Alright, then. LA—a dark and dreary hotel room—Miranda not feeling her best, turns to mister broody for a bit o’ comfort—gets a shag instead. The way I figure it, eye-for-an-eye’s the best kind of payback.”
Buffy: [Getting it—look of shock and anger as she turns to Angel] “You slept with her?”
Spike: “Not so much sleeping, as...”
Buffy: “Shut up, Spike. [to Angel] Is it true?”
Spike: [smirking; to Miranda, conspiratorially] “This is where it gets good.”
Angel: “I, uh...well. [gulp] Yeah.”
Buffy: [to Miranda] “You little slut.”
Miranda: [to Spike] “That was unexpected.”
Buffy: [back to Angel] “You slept with her. [figuring more out] That’s why you showed up here. [beat] How could you? I mean...”
Angel: [horrified at the prospect of hurting Buffy’s feelings] “It was a mistake—I wasn’t thinking.”
Miranda: “A mistake? [indignant] I don’t know as I’d go as far as to say that.”
Angel: [feeling trapped; turning to M/S] “He bites her; all the time.”
Miranda: [to Spike] “Ah, diversion. Not a bad strategy in this situation, I think.”
Spike: [to M] “Think I would have waited a bit before resorting to that.”
Buffy: [v. angry now] “I’ll deal with you two later. Angel can we talk a minute? Somewhere that’s not here?”
Spike: [to M] “Stay tuned for the battle of the repressed.”
He gets up and they move to the corner of the room—we don’t hear what they’re saying; S & M are spectating and trying to guess what’s going on between B & A. M is aware that this whole last little interaction (calling Buffy over) is a diversionary tactic of Spike’s, but she just rolls with it—things could be worse.
Willow: “Hey. Guys. The sun’s coming up!”
Xander: “Halleluja! Can we go home now?”
Anya: “But I was winning. Why does the game always have to end when I have almost all the money?”
Spike: “I quite fancy some fresh air. [to M] What do you think, love?”
Miranda: [slightly surprised. Although Spike can go out close to sunrise and sunset without getting burned now, he rarely suggests it—he’s a bit skittish still] “Sounds lovely.”
M & S walk out the front door. They plop down in the grass under a tree. Spike is squinting and looking very pale. M is pointing out the different flowers in the grass—S is mostly goofing off (throwing grass at her, etc.). They are just being cute. Buffy and Angel watch through the window.
Buffy: “It’s not fair.” [that Spike can go outside in the sun]
Angel: “Yeah.” [that Spike and Miranda get to be happy together]
Buffy: “What’re you going to do now that it’s daylight?”
Angel: “Don’t know. [pause] I’d rather not stay here.”
Buffy: “I’m sure we could get you to the car—you can crash at my place if you want.”
Angel: “Promise not to stake me in my sleep?”
Buffy: “I think I can hold back. Everything won’t seem so terrible once we’ve all had some sleep. Maybe. Hopefully.”
M & S come through the door—Spike is sucking his finger (it’s obviously painful).
Spike: “I can’t believe that thing bit me.”
Miranda: “It didn’t bite you, it stung you. I’ll get some vinegar.”
Spike: “Bloody bee.”
Miranda: “You did try to touch it, love. Just because it’s furry doesn’t mean you can pet it.”
Spike: [defensive] “I didn’t know—s’been 100 years or more since I’ve seen a bumblebee.”
As they come in, everyone else is leaving—too tired to talk, they file out in silence after agreeing to check in a bit later to come up with a plan for tonight.
Scene 8.
Later that day in Miranda’s house. The bedroom. Miranda and Spike had simply gone to bed/sleep once everyone had left without speaking, even though things had been left unresolved. Miranda awakes to find Spike leaning up on one elbow, staring at her, looking pensive.
Spike: [in a somewhat hoarse and quiet voice] “So why don’t you want to get married, then? Had it figured that it’s because it might not be mine—but it isn’t HIS.” [disgust in his voice when he says ‘his’]
Miranda: [dismissive tone] “Do you really want to be a father? Do you have any idea what that means? Everything would have to change.”
Spike: “What ‘everything’? Put a crib in the corner there, buy a few nappies...”
Miranda: “You know it’s more than that. Besides, correct me if I’m wrong, but it was only a few years ago that the phrase ‘having a baby’ had an entirely different meaning for you.”
Spike: “So that’s what this is about? You think I’d hurt it? God, Miranda—not your baby [as he says this he reaches down and softly strokes her belly]—I would never...”
Miranda: “I know. I know. But what about everything else? Everyone else? Someday the chip will stop working and are you really ready to promise that you’d never bite anyone? I don’t want to have to explain to junior why his little friends keep disappearing. Or his teachers or the local police. I couldn’t live like that.”
This stings. She says it deliberately because it’s what he expects to hear.
Spike: “What a load of bollocks. [beat] That’s not it.”
He sounds almost surprised when he says this, but he’s sure he’s right. What is it?
Miranda: [Caught off guard. Even she had convinced herself that was it, but upon hearing his reaction, she understands he’s right. How does he do that? How can he know her better than she knows herself? She’s almost annoyed and keeps with what she was saying] “I just don’t think you understand what...”
Spike: “And he does?”
Miranda: “I don’t know. [she’s tearing up now. softening] You really want it? You’d really want to stay? [Seeing the look in his eyes, she suddenly panics and gets up and walks to the bathroom while saying] Don’t answer. Don’t. Please don’t.”
He tries to follow her, but she closes the door in his face and turns the shower on so she can’t hear him. He shouts at the door.
Spike: “Why? Why, ‘cause it’ll be harder to leave me then? [He waits for an answer, but one doesn’t come. After a few minutes, he angrily puts on some clothes and shouts back to the door] We’re out of cigarettes. I’m going out.”
He stomps up the stairs and is gone. She comes out a few minutes later and sits on the bed. She goes upstairs—good, it’s still daylight—mid-evening. She lays on the couch to wait for him. She sits up with a start when she hears the door slam shut—did she doze for a minute? She assumes it was Spike and that he’s gone downstairs. In a few minutes, she gets up to follow him. She finds him already under the covers and asleep (on his side, facing the wall, away from her side of the bed). She does her best to cuddle up to him, but he doesn’t stir. She whispers in his ear.
Miranda: “I love you, William. How could I love anything as much as you? But it isn’t real. It can’t be real—I want it so much. It can’t be. [Then the expression on her face changes—softens into an almost delirious smile. She’s drifting off to sleep now] It’d be such a beautiful baby, wouldn’t it, love—yours and mine.”
She nuzzles the back of his neck and quickly falls asleep. She starts to dream. It’s not pleasant or unpleasant. She is walking somewhere in Sunnydale—she knows where she is going, but is moving casually. She arrives at an abandoned factory (yeah, another one!). She suddenly finds herself in a large room—then she is moved quickly to a sort of platform. It’s empty at first, but then in an instant, she sees two chairs. First the chairs are empty. Then in one appears Dawn, tied up. In the other is Spike, chained. Glory appears in front of them—a knife in her hand.
Glory: “It’s about time. I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting and that makes me cranky. Very cranky. Maybe this will speed things up.”
She casually walks over to Spike, who is gagged. She grabs hold of his hair, yanks his head back and then slowly (as if in slow motion) slits his neck from ear to ear with the knife—blood starts to pour out. Miranda wakes with a gasp as she bolts up in bed. She turns to where Spike was asleep, knowing he won’t be there—he isn’t. She runs upstairs, tears streaming down her face. She grabs her sword and her cell phone and runs out the door. She is still in her pajamas. Shots of her running, growing more hysterical with every step (it is now dark). She tries to make a call on the phone, but keeps making mistakes, because she can barely see through her tears. She finally dials Buffy’s number—Buffy answers.
Buffy: “Hello”
Miranda: “She’s got him. She showed me. She...[she can’t get the words out]...don’t know if he’s alive.” [she’s practically hyperventilating now]
Buffy: “Miranda? Slow down.”
Miranda: “Dawn, too. Hurry. She’s at the old factory behind the [insert place name blah]”
Buffy: “Dawn is upstairs sleeping. It’s still light out.”
Miranda: “No. It’s a trick. Somehow...it’s dark—has been. She’s got them.”
Buffy: “Don’t go alone. It’s a trap—wait for us to catch up and we’ll go together.”
Miranda: “Can’t wait...he could be...I saw it...I have to go now.” [She throws the phone down and starts running faster]
Buffy: “Miranda, wait!” [It’s too late. Buffy runs upstairs and sure enough, Dawn is not there. She gathers the troops and heads out.]
**
Meanwhile, M arrives at the factory and storms in, ready to fight. She’s so upset, she’s shaking and she can barely see through her tears. She is surprised that she has a totally unimpeded path to the platform that she saw in her dream. There she sees Dawn and Spike and Glory as she had dreamed them, only now Spike is lying limp and lifeless in the chair—an unimaginable amount of blood on the floor in front of him. Dawn is crying. At the sight of Spike, Miranda’s eyes widen in a mad fury. Glory is standing in front of them, wiping some blood of her shoe.
Glory: “Finally. Who knew a vampire would have so much blood in him? Wish he would stop bleeding and dust already. Got your attention, though, didn’t it? I’m a sucker for dramatics. I’m guessing you told your slayer friend that we’ve got her bratty little sister—or what was it the vampire called her? Little bit? Isn’t that adorable.”
Miranda rushes towards Glory, but a few of the minions step in front. They don’t attack her, but she has to get rid of them to move forward.
Glory: “What no shoes today?” [Miranda looks down at her feet—she hadn’t noticed that she was barefoot until now.] “Disappointing.”
Miranda: “Fight me, you bitch. Call off your dogs.”
Glory: “We’re not here to fight—we’re here to talk.”
Miranda: “Go to hell.”
Glory: “Believe me, I’m trying.”
Miranda makes a few more attempts to get to Glory, but to no avail. She is slowly beating back all the minions, who although being in her way, still have not raised any weapons. She finally gets close enough to Glory to take a few swings with her sword—Glory ducks, but does eventually take a punch or two to the face. She doesn’t raise a hand to Miranda, who is getting more and more furious and yelling “Fight me, you coward. Why won’t you fight?”
Glory: “You think I’m afraid of a little pee-on Immortal like you? Whatever. You’ve got something of mine.”
Miranda: [putting it all together.] “None of you will fight me...because...you don’t want to hurt the baby.”
Glory: “Not nearly so fragile as humans, but my boys don’t want to take any chances. You’re just a convenient little Immortal carrying case for my future body—on the off chance that things don’t go as planned. And the best part is, I won’t have to share that one. My little priesties need to do some sort of chanting or something to keep it going and who knew it would be so hard to get to you? So here we are. [Seeing the demoralized look on M’s face] What, did you think you could fight me? Hardly. [Turning to a few of her minions who are standing off to the side] Can we get this over with now?”
Miranda takes advantage of Glory’s momentary distraction and swiftly swings her sword and slices off Glory’s head, which she then kicks across the room. As you might expect, instead of falling, Glory’s body just starts walking around dizzily looking for her head while the ‘head’ is yelling to the priests to bring them together (you get the picture). Just then, Buffy and the others show up and all this together is enough of a distraction to allow them rush the platform. Miranda goes straight to Spike’s chair and breaks the chains with her sword. She then tosses her sword away so that she can drag him and support his head (which is actually barely attached) at the same time. Someone frees Dawn and they all sneak off down a passageway while Buffy and Angel maintain the commotion (keeping Glory from getting her head back, etc.). They get to a place near a back exit and pause for a moment to wait for Buffy and Angel to catch up—this only takes a few seconds. Miranda is taking a moment to undo Spike’s gag and carefully wrap it around his neck across the wound. When she’s done this, she looks up at the group. Tears are still streaming down her face.
Miranda: “Bandages? Anything?”
Xander: “I’ve got some duct tape.” [He pulls it out of his handyman belt. She takes it.]
Buffy: [to M] “We have to go. They’ll be here any minute—you can finish that in the car.”
Miranda: “No. Go on ahead. He’ll be dust before we get to the car if I don’t do something. Don’t ask me how I know, I just do.”
B shoots a look to A who just gives her a shrug—Spike looks bad enough that she could be right—who knows? What with everything else that’s changed.
Buffy: [to everyone else] “Take Dawn out. NOW. [everyone but Buffy and Angel start moving to the door head out. Now to M] She’s right behind us. We need to go. You can’t do anything for him here anyway.”
Miranda: [She’s kneeling beside him, trying to unravel the duct tape] “I won’t leave him.”
Buffy can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s not worth arguing.
Buffy: “I have to go with Dawn. We can’t wait.” [she starts moving to the door]
Miranda isn’t really listening—she’s working hard to wrap the duct tape around Spike’s neck over the cloth gag. She’s focused only on helping Spike—nothing else even enters her head.
Miranda: [she calls after them] “A knife. Anything sharp?” [no one has anything—the first group out the door had all the weapons. [slightly hysterical now] How can you not have anything? You have bloody duct tape, but nothing with a sharp edge—Oh god. [She feels sick. Then, thinking of something] Angel. Please. Hang on a minute.”
Angel looks to Buffy.
Angel: “I’ll stay back with them. We’ll meet you back at the house.”
Buffy: [Buffy nods] “We’ll bring the second car around to this exit and leave it for you.”
Miranda: [finishing wrapping the tape around his neck—good ol’ duct tape—his head is now somewhat supported. She is ripping off a piece of fabric from her pajamas as she says] “I need your teeth, Angel.”
Angel: “What?”
Miranda: “It’s the only way. Please.”
Angel: [figuring it out] “No. It’s [Spike’s head] not going to come off now. Let’s get out of here.”
Miranda: “I’d use my bloody fingernails if they were long enough. Please, Angel. I can do something. I can help him. Please.” [She looks up at him—tears flowing from her eyes—absolutely desperate.]
Angel: “What about the baby?”
Miranda: [manic laugh] “Doesn’t matter. It’s bloody Rosemary’s”
Angel: “Who’s Rosemary? [getting it. disappointment and empathy] Oh. [pause] What do you want me to do?”
Miranda: “Let me just get in the right position. [she moves behind Spike and pulls him between her legs so that the back of his head is resting against her stomach. She then positions herself so that if she moves her left arm around, the crux of her elbow is even with his mouth. He is completely lifeless and limp. Pointing to the vein in her arm.] Bite there and then give it a good suck to get the blood flowing quickly.” [Angel hesitates for a moment] “Please, Angel. We don’t have much time.” [Angel vamps out and then does as she says. Once he moves his mouth away, she directs the stream of blood to Spike’s mouth, which she has propped open. She squeezes her hand on the ball of fabric she tore out of her pants to increase the blood flow. A minute passes. She’s still crying—where does all the water come from? She is stroking his hair with her other arm and kissing his head softly. She’s completely oblivious to Angel’s presence. She whispers to Spike] “It’s going to be Ok. Come on now, my love.” [Nothing happens. She looks at the wound and notices it’s stopped bleeding—ever since she’s been pregnant, her rate of healing seems to have increased dramatically. She holds her arm up to Angel] “Do it again.” [He wants to argue, but the look on her face is so determined that he simply does as she asks and bites into her arm. She doesn’t even flinch. Another 30 seconds or so goes by.]
Angel: “How long are you going to wait?”
Miranda: [voice quavering] “Just a bit more. [Then, finally, she feels Spike’s lips lock around the wound and begin sucking gently] There’s my love—that’s a good boy. [A look of relief crosses her face and she suddenly looks almost serene] Enough for now—one of us has to walk out of here.”
With that, she pulls her arm away and then takes the fabric from her hand and wraps it around the wound. Spike still isn’t completely conscious, but he’s moving.
Angel: “You’ve got to be weak—I’ll carry him. We need to get out of here in a hurry.”
She nods. Angel pulls one of Spike’s arms around his shoulder and lifts him up—Spike moves his legs, but can barely put any weight on them—his eyes only flutter open and shut. Miranda stands up and they move towards the door. But just then, Glory appears—her head back on.
Glory: “And where exactly do you think you’re going? I told you, you’ve got something of mine. Trust me, if I could, I’d just rip it out now, but they tell me it’s too early.”
A large number of minions/priests have appeared behind her.
Miranda: [whispers to Angel] “Get behind me—close—and do exactly as I say.” [Angel sets Spike down and moves behind Miranda—they are up against a wall] [to Glory] “What do you say we make a deal?”
Glory: “You may not have noticed, but you’re pretty much cornered. You can’t fight, you can’t run, so I don’t think you’ve got anything to bargain with.”
Miranda: [looking at her own stomach] “Oh, I think I do. I’m guessing you want it alive?”
Glory: “Pulease. You don’t have any weapons—what’re you going to do, cry it to death?” [She does a mocking cry.]
Miranda: “I’ve got a strapping set of teeth behind me that’d do the job. Tell us, Angel, in your heyday, ‘bout how long would it take to drain a girl like me, if you were in a hurry?”
Angel: “Oh, 5, maybe 10 seconds tops.”
Miranda: “Right. You see, I’d bounce right back from that, but I’m guessing the baby wouldn’t. Not that brain damage would make much of a difference.”
Glory: [she glances at her monks who confirm that this would be bad for the baby] “I’m listening.”
Miranda: “There’s a car parked just outside that door. Let them get to it and go—you don’t need them for anything anyway. I’ll stay behind.”
Glory: “I let them go and they go straight back to the slayer and then come back and hassle me AGAIN. I’m getting so tired of that. Besides, I think your bluffing. [getting an idea] The thing is, if things go the way they should, I’m outta here and you can keep your stupid baby. I know you want it—least that’s what superbrain over there tells me.” [Indicating the demon that was spotted last night outside of the house.]
Miranda: “Right, because your baby would surely be a delight. Angel?” [He vamps and moves to bite her neck—just as his teeth pierce her skin, Glory intercedes.]
Glory: “Okay, okay. Stop. Whatever.”
Miranda stays in front of Angel and Spike—Angel supports S again. They move as a group towards the door—M knows that the minute she moves away from A or S, Glory’s men will try to stake them/shoot them with an arrow. They get to the door.
Miranda: [to Angel] “Take him back to the house. There’s blood in the freezer.”
Angel: “We ARE making a break for it, right?”
Miranda: “No. Too risky. I’m staying.”
Angel: “Are your crazy?”
Miranda: “Well, maybe, but that’s not the point. She won’t hurt me while the baby’s still alive. Come back for me when you’ve got a plan and some reinforcements. I’ll be ready.”
That’s all the time they have for speaking. Angel w/S make it to the car. Miranda is quickly taken into custody by Glory’s men. The door shuts and now we just see A & S at the car. Angel roughly throws Spike into the backseat—now that M is gone, he tosses Spike around like he were a sack of potatoes. He gets in the front seat and starts up the car. He looks in the rearview mirror and sees that Spike’s eyes are half open.
Angel: “Do you have any idea how lucky you are? Any clue at all, you selfish bastard?”
He obviously doesn’t expect an answer and just looks annoyed and drives on.