Part 6
Writer’s note: Ok, so I got a bit off track there for a minute. Ahem. Obviously that last bit was not being told to Spike by Miranda in their hotel room in L.A.—although we were still actually (technically) in flashback. Confused yet? Um, there are a couple of more scenes in pseudo-flashback before we get back to the present (for good). BUT, before that, we need to make a quick visit. Now are you confused?
Scene 1
L.A. hotel room. The present. Miranda has just finished telling her tale—ending with her conversation with Angel at the airport (this was the last thing he wouldn’t have known). Spike gets out of bed and pulls his pants on hastily, without looking at her. He picks up a pack of cigarettes on the bedside table and lights one up. He leans back, partially sitting on the dresser off to the side of the bed. He’s tense—trying very hard to not lose it. He doesn’t say anything.
Miranda: “I told you, you wouldn’t like it.”
He looks angrily off to the side and takes a deep breath.
Spike: “So you would have stayed, then.”
Miranda: “I don’t know.”
Spike: “You left because of the curse. If there wasn’t a curse, you would’ve stayed.” [He’s simply reviewing what he sees to be the facts.]
Miranda: “It’s not that simple.”
Spike: [getting angrier] “Oh, I don’t know. Seems pretty straightforward to me. You told him you...were happy (he can’t bring himself to say the ‘L’ word). So if you were happy, you’d have no reason to leave—unless you were lying to him. Were you lying to him?”
Miranda: “Please don’t do this.”
Spike: [raising his voice slightly] “Were_you_lying_to_him?”
Miranda: [resigned] “No.”
Spike: [the word stings him. bitter.] “Ok, then. Glad we straightened that out.”
He’s not quite sure why he’s letting himself get so worked up. In some ways, the truth was better than what he’d imagined. Still, hearing it invokes the pain they’d been so cleverly avoiding these past two months.
Miranda: [Not really knowing what to say—she’d like to say something about things happening for a reason, but it sounds like a cop-out.] “Nothing I can say will make this better. So what’s the point, love? We’ve been happy these past two months, haven’t we? I’m sure you won’t believe me now when I say that despite everything, I’ve never been happier. Maybe someday. [beat] You are my life. [Confessing, in a whisper] If I were to lose you now, it would wreck me. So if that’s what you want...” [Her voice trails off as she squints up her eyes and looks down.]
Spike: “Are you done?” [He’s softening, but his tone when he says this is still a tad bitter.]
Miranda: [Her voice is shaking] “No. One more. I know they’re just words, but...[she looks him straight in the eye again] If we walk in there tomorrow and he were to tell me that the curse had been lifted and he wanted me back, I wouldn’t consider it for an instant. I’d tell him to bugger off.”
Spike: “And I should believe you because...????”
Miranda: [Tears of frustration—she knows there’s no reason why he should trust what she says. Defeated.] “No reason.”
Spike: “Wrong answer.”
Miranda: [confused] “What?”
Spike: “I overheard you talking to Buffy before—heard what you said about Angel.”
**
Begin Flashback
Sunnydale. About a week or two after Spike and Miranda have returned from Europe. They’ve been mostly keeping to themselves (not wanting to deal with everyone’s reactions), with the main exception being that Miranda has had a couple of conversations with Dawn—her motherliness has now changed a bit into big-sisterliness. There’s a wonderful warmth between them—Dawn has always been the most accepting of Miranda’s relationship with Spike and so Miranda is comfortable telling her all about their adventures in Europe and Dawn loves being her confidant. Dawn was also the only one to express anger at Miranda for leaving Spike (Anya was just mad that she left Sunnydale). At the same time, Miranda has had a number of very awkward/strained interactions with Buffy. This scene starts when Buffy and Miranda find themselves alone in the Magic Box.
Buffy walks in the front door. She sees Miranda at the counter, flipping through a book.
Buffy: [Based on their previous encounters this week, Buffy is a bit cautious/awkward] “Miranda. Hi. Have you seen Dawn? I can’t remember if we were going to meet here or at the library.”
Miranda: [sarcastic] “Buffy. I see you’re parenting skills have much improved over these last months. Would it be Taco Bell or McDonalds for dinner tonight? [under her breath] Heaven forbid you pick up a cookbook.”
Buffy: [Annoyed, but not wanting to get into it] “Has she been here?”
Miranda: “No. I wouldn’t worry. She’s probably met a lovely young man on the internet and is right now on her way to meet her destiny. Perhaps you should just rush off to the Bronze to meet your friends instead.”
Buffy: “What IS your problem? I’m thinking it’s just with me, since everyone else seems to think you haven’t actually gone insane.”
Miranda: “Don’t be silly. How could I possibly have a problem with little miss perfect? Forgive me if I don’t jump to worship your perky little slayer ass every time we meet.” [Even Miranda is surprised by the intensity of her own bitchiness. Huh.]
Buffy: “Oh. My. God. No one has been this bitchy to me since Cordelia left town. If this is about what I said on the phone...”
Miranda: “On the contrary, I was quite impressed with your mastery of the art of the four-letter word. Although, I think my favorite was when you called me...what was it now? Oh yes, a skanky ho-bag tramp. That was just lovely.”
Buffy: [honestly regretting those words] “I’m sorry—I lost my temper. You’d just dropped the bomb that you’d broken up with Angel and it all came flooding out.”
Miranda: “You know, it’s not about that. I guess you simply bring out the bitch in me. [thinking about it] Or maybe, I was just better at hiding my feelings before.”
Buffy: [this stings] “Why do you say those things? We were friends.”
Miranda: “I was thinking about giving up friends for lent this year.”
Buffy: [angry arms, ANGRY ARMS. Big sigh of frustration.] “I SO don’t need this. If you don’t want to be friends anymore, fine. Just stay out of my way—I’ve got a pretty mean temper these days.” [She turns to leave. Angel said she’d be different, but GEEZ.]
Miranda: [feeling a bit guilty—she really doesn’t know why she’s been feeling such hostility towards Buffy] “Buffy, wait.”
Buffy turns around and folds her arms.
Buffy: “What? Thought of another good burn?”
Miranda: [Kind of rolling her eyes and shifting around like a little kid who was forced to apologize to someone by their mother.] “I’ve been meaning...[deep breath]...Thanks for not killing Spike.”
Buffy: [A bit taken aback.] “Oh. No problem. Past coupla years, I’ve sorta made a thing of not killing Spike, so it wasn’t much of a stretch.”
Miranda: [still in ‘little kid’ apology] “Well, he said you were nice to him, so thanks for that.”
Buffy: [soft voice] “Welcome. [She’s been wanting to say something, too, but due to the aforementioned hostility has held back. They stand there for a moment, both looking like awkward kids.] What you did for Angel—that was...unbelievable. He’s all buried under a heaping mound of guilt about it, but that’s just the way he deals with things. You’ve given him something I didn’t think was possible to give and he does deserve it. So, thanks for THAT.”
Miranda: “So he told you. Should’ve known he’d go rushing off to his Buffy.”
Buffy: “I went to see him—make sure he was OK.”
Miranda: [back to bitchy voice—she can’t seem to shake that] “And did he whine to you about how dreadful I was to him—how I was cold and insensitive?”
Buffy: “It hurt, but he doesn’t blame you. Kinda funny, ‘cause I’m the one person uniquely qualified to understand what that’s like.”
Miranda: [Understanding that it must have been hard for Buffy to talk to him and knowing that her visit probably did ease some of his pain, she reigns in her attitude. Shrugging.] “Yeah, well, maybe he’ll save a bunch of people or end an apocolypse in the next few years and you two can get a house with a white picket fence and live happily-ever-after fighting evil together or something.”
Buffy: [confused] “Oh, I assumed that was kinda your plan. Well, minus the picket fence—guessing that’s not quite your style.”
Miranda: [laughing] “What? Me and Angel? Good lord, no. We make a dreadful couple. You and your schoolyard chums may find this a bit hard to believe—in fact I’ll bet it’ll take some convincing before Spike will believe me when I tell him—but given the choice, forgetting the curse for the moment, I’d be with Spike in a heartbeat. But life gets complicated sometimes and you have to make choices. Angel is a wonderful man—he was good to me. I suppose I did love him—must’ve done, right?—else we’d be back where we started from. But it was a different kind of love entirely—I loved the idea of him and of his loving me. What I feel for Spike is more...[pause as she tries to find a way to express it]...well, just more. I don’t think I properly appreciated it before. It’s wonderful to know someone and be known—we’re made of the same stuff, he and I. As they say, different strokes...So, no, thank you—Angel’s all yours. You two deserve each other. [with a tiny smirk] I mean that in the best possible way, of course.” :)
Buffy: [Scrunching up her face—not being able to fathom anyone choosing Spike over Angel.] “You sure Angel is clear on this? ‘Cause when we talked, I got the impression that he has different plans for the long term.”
Miranda: “Really? Well, feel free to set him straight next time you see him.”
Buffy: “No, I think that is definitely something that needs to come from you.”
Miranda: “Well I’ve got no plans to talk to him in the foreseeable future. In fact, L.A. is the last place you should look for me in the next decade or so—I plan to avoid that place like the plague. And anyway, I’m so bored with talking.”
Buffy: “Now THAT, I find hard to believe.”
Miranda: [laugh] “Ooh, nice one. [waving it off] Eh, he’ll be fine.”
Spike: [appearing from the basement] “Who’ll be fine?”
Miranda: “No one important, love.”
End Flashback
**
Miranda: [hopeful; a flash of a smile] “So that’s why you were so willing to go to L.A. [pause] So, uh...?” [Facial expression indicating that she’s hoping they’re finished talking about this.]
Spike: [feeling better] “Give me three questions, and then we’re done.”
Miranda: “Three?”
Spike: “Yeah, three sounds like a good number to wrap things up.”
Miranda: [dubious/worried] “Go on then.”
Spike: “Uh. [thinking about it—it’s obvious he didn’t have three in mind] How many times did you have sex?”
Miranda: [shaking her head, disgusted] “You’re not seriously going to waste a question on that?”
Spike: “It’s a perfectly valid question. So?”
Miranda: “God, I don’t know. It’s not like I kept a tally. [He just raises his eyebrows expectedly. She thinks about it for a moment, reluctantly] 30, maybe 35 times.”
Spike: [doing a quick calculation in his head (3 months, 12 weeks…); then looking a bit surprised] “But that’s not even three times a week. Pathetic. We beat that in the first three weeks.”
Miranda: “I told you our relationship wasn’t based around sex.”
Spike: [shaking his head; hint of a smile] “That’s just silly. He is such a loser.”
Miranda: “Next question.”
Spike: “What’s the worst thing he ever did to you? You know, aside from the whole not telling you about the curse business.”
Miranda: “He called me Darla once.”
Spike: [He can see how this would sting] “No shit. When you were, uh...[wink wink, nudge nudge]
Miranda: “Just about. He’d been a bit of a wanker all evening—I’d gone out with Duncan to a cocktail party as a personal favor. It was a business thing and he needed a date. He’s recently lost his latest love and wasn’t in the mood to have to entertain a proper date, so he asked me. We met Angel afterwards for a drink—unusual for him, he actually joined us for some scotch. I noticed something was awry after his fourth glass—he’s such a puritanical bastard, he never has more than one. Suffice it to say, due to Angel’s unwarranted jealousy, it became a bit of a pissing contest and I dragged him off home. I was annoyed and let it be known once we got back to the hotel—he was all hands, though and after pushing him away a couple of times, he comes out with a “Come on, Darla, you know you’re always up for it.” [Spike makes an ‘ouch’ face] Yeah. Bastard slept in the hall that night. [more serious] I think it was his particular choice of ex-girlfriends that was so very telling—not about to call me Buffy, now was he?”
This last bit brings the mood down a bit—Spike could sense that it really bothered her for Angel to think of her that way.
Spike: [more serious] “Did you make him tea? In the mornings, did you bring him tea?”
Miranda: [still in light-hearted mode—not noticing that Spike is a bit more somber. She’s relieved to have such an easy last question] “I suppose I did. Thank God he wasn’t a coffee drinker—don’t think I could stand having to fiddle with one of those insipid coffee machines.”
Spike stands up and walks toward the door to the balcony without saying anything. He goes outside and leans against the railing, frowning. Miranda is surprised by this—she thought they’d made it through the tough bits. She wraps the sheet around her and quickly follows.
Miranda: “What’s wrong, love?”
He’s turned to face her (his back is to the railing of the balcony), but is looking at the ground, obviously upset again. He just shrugs. She steps closer and tries to touch him—he just shifts awkwardly.
Miranda: [Assuming he’s still upset about their earlier conversation.] “I only said it him once—I’ve told you a thousand times, at least. It’ll be a million before I’m through.”
And with this, she starts whispering softly, over and over “I love you”. She gets closer and closer each time she says it and you can tell despite his resistance, it’s getting to him. Finally, he puts his hands on her shoulders and touches his forehead to hers.
Spike: [in his hoarse/upset voice, he says softly] “I hate that you made him tea.” [His eyes are slightly wet.]
Miranda: “I know.”
*
They stay like that for a while and then head back into the room and into bed. They fall asleep, exhausted. A couple hours later, we see Miranda squirming in her sleep—she’s obviously having a nightmare. She’s whimpering, slightly. Soon she’s thrashing and then wakes up with a gasp, wide eyed—she’s shaking. Spike is awake and waiting—they’ve been through this before many times. He pulls her shaking body to him and holds her tightly as he strokes her hair and tries to calm her.
Spike: “Do you want to take a pill this time?” [She shakes her head, no. He continues to cradle her and after a while, she starts to breath more regularly and her muscles loosen and she stops shaking. All that remains is the sweat on her forehead.] “It’s been a while, hasn’t it, since the last one. All this talk, I suppose.”
Miranda: [She’s trying to take her mind off it] “I saw you once, in a dream—in his memory. I never told you.”
Spike: “Yeah?” [He looks a little concerned.]
Miranda: “You and Drusilla. [pause] I saw the way you looked at her.”
Spike: [remembering something] “That when you got all weird for a few days in Rome? Figured it was just all the catholics about.”
Miranda: [nods] “It was hard to see, is all. You looked at her like you’ve never looked at me.”
Spike: “Guess we’re even, then.”
She looks confused for a moment, then realizes he’s talking about that time with Cal at the house. She doesn’t think it was anywhere near the same, but she nods her head.
Scene 2
The next day. Duncan’s shop in L.A.
Angel, Gunn, Wesley and Cordelia arrive (they all shake hands with Duncan) and they all go into a back room to discuss plans for the next evening. Duncan had specifically planned to have Angel et al. arrive before Miranda. It’s 6:30pm.
Gunn: [to Duncan] “So when’s this thing due to arrive?”
Angel: “Shouldn’t we wait for Miranda?”
Duncan: “I asked her to come by at 7. I thought we should have some time alone.”
Angel: “Why’s that?”
Duncan: “Judging by her reaction when I told her I’d hired you, I’m thinking it might all be a bit awkward. She was hopping mad. [to Angel] You alright working with her?”
Angel: “Fine. Not a problem.”
Cordelia makes a little ‘hm’ noise, which Duncan hears. Angel just gives her a look.
Duncan: “Truth be told, and I hate to say this as we’ve been friends for almost a century, I don’t know that I trust her fully. She seems not quite herself.”
Wesley: [shooting a look over to Angel] “How do you mean?”
Duncan: “Well, for starters, she bloody well tried to kill me the last time we met.”
Angel: [in her defense] “Isn’t that what you do? I thought that was part of the Immortal deal.”
Duncan: [flustered] “Well, yeah, but not us.”
Angel: [deadpan] “But strictly speaking, an Immortal trying to kill another Immortal is not exactly unusual behavior.”
Duncan: [frowning] “Strictly speaking, no. But we do have understandings and Miranda’s never been one to pick a fight. She wasn’t herself, I tell you. Good thing her boyfriend stepped in and talked some sense into her.”
This inspires a very deep frown from Angel.
Wesley: [trying to change the subject] “Why don’t you tell us again what you know about this sword.”
Duncan: “People—other Immortals call it ‘Lucifer’s Sword’. I don’t know why. It’s attained sort of a mythic status—no one’s actually seen it for centuries. Word is that whoever wields it can’t be beaten. No one seems to be clear on its origin. Some say it was stolen from Mount Olympus—or that it was forged by Hephaestos and given to an Immortal bent on hedging his bets come the Gathering.”
Gunn: “That’s the final battle, right? Winner takes all?”
Duncan: “Last one standing gets the Prize”
Gunn: “Still not clear on what that means, exactly.”
Duncan: [shrugs, with a little laugh] “Neither am I. Neither is anyone, but still we fight. We know it’s something big, though, and that it probably ties into humanity’s future.”
Angel: “So this isn’t just Immortal business.”
Wesley: “Whoever gets the sword, wins the Prize.”
Duncan: “Only if the stories are true.”
Gunn: “Just in case, we’d all sleep a bit better knowing that it didn’t go to some wack job Immortal bent on world domination.”
Duncan: “I think that sums it up nicely. We have no way of knowing for sure what the sword’s origin is or even if it has any true power at all. My feeling is that we need to secure the sword and destroy it, regardless, to keep it from falling into the wrong hands because we have too much to lose if the stories are true. The Immortal who last had it was the oldest known—he’d gone a bit mad, poor fellow—driven into isolation by other Immortals’ constant quest to take the sword from him. Joseph knew him. Last time they spoke, the old one had admitted to making arrangements for the sword in the event of his death by other means—[explaining] the wielder of the sword is only unbeatable in battle. As I told you last time we spoke, I’ve had a series of encrypted messages these past weeks, indicating that the sword is on its way here—probably intended for Joseph. I wanted to involve as few Immortals as possible in this, but felt I should bring in Miranda.”
Gunn: “Because she’s on the right side in all this.”
Angel: “Because the sword belongs to her, doesn’t it? She killed Joseph—the sword goes to her.”
Duncan: “Technically, yes. That’s the way we’d worked it out...[pause]...before. But I’m hoping to convince her that it should be destroyed. Who knows what her reaction will be—it was hard enough convincing her to come down here at all. I neglected to mention the ‘destroying’ part.”
**
Begin flashback
Where we left off with Buffy, Miranda and Spike in the Magic Shop. Spike’s just come up from the basement.
Miranda’s cell phone rings. She looks around, rather dubious—who would be calling? Only Spike knows her new number and he’s here. As she’s answering it, Spike says:
Spike: “Forgot to tell you—That Immortal friend of yours, Duncan, called this afternoon. I gave him your number.”
Miranda: “Hello?”
Duncan: “Miranda, thank God. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for weeks.”
Miranda: “We just got our phone hooked up yesterday. Sorry. Didn’t think you’d be in a rush to get in touch.”
Duncan: “Well, I’m afraid something rather urgent has come up. Immortal business of a critical nature. Critical enough that I’m prepared to put up with your homicidal mood swings. I need you to come down to L.A. right away.”
Miranda: “No.”
Duncan: “What? You haven’t even heard what it’s about yet.”
Miranda: “As far as I’m concerned, L.A. doesn’t exist anymore. Sorry, find someone else.”
Spike gives her a little smile.
Duncan: [deep sigh] “I know this place has terrible memories for you, but believe me, you can’t afford to sit this one out.”
Miranda: “I’m sure you can handle it, Duncan. You’re always on top of these sorts of things.”
Duncan: “I need your help, Miranda. I wouldn’t’ve called if it wasn’t very important.”
Miranda: “Not interested.”
Duncan: “I really didn’t want to discuss this on the phone, but it’s about Lucifer’s Sword.”
Miranda: [This gives her pause for a moment—every Immortal has heard the stories. But she looks over at Spike and shakes it off] “I don’t care if bloody Lucifer himself is in L.A., ripping the city apart piece by piece, I’m not coming down there.”
Buffy: “Lucifer?” [Suddenly paying attention.]
Miranda, gives her a dismissive wave, indicating that she wasn’t being literal. At this point, Buffy quietly leaves through the front door—it’s a bit too awkward to stay.
Duncan: “Don’t you have any sense of duty? Joseph made his decision for a reason—you really going to throw that away?
Miranda: [Her tone changes—Spike notices and looks concerned.] “I guess he made a mistake—I’m not the sort for heroics.”
Duncan: “Is Spike there?”
Miranda: “Yes, why?”
Duncan: “Put him on the phone.”
Miranda: “What? Why do you want to talk to him?”
Duncan: “Miranda, please, just put him on the bloody phone.”
She shrugs and thrusts the phone towards Spike.
Miranda: “He wants to talk to you.”
Confused frown from Spike—he takes the phone.
Spike: “Yeah”
Duncan: “Listen, mate, you seem a pretty reasonable sort. You talked sense into her before in Prague. I can’t go into a lot of details on the phone, but if you care at all about Miranda’s future, you’ll convince her to come down.”
Spike: “You’re going to have to do better than that, mate, to convince me to drag her kicking and screaming back to that hell hole.”
Duncan: “There’s a weapon—powerful enough to defeat any Immortal—on its way here as we speak. If the wrong people get it, the first thing they’re going to do is track down every Immortal in a 100 mile radius and take ‘em out one by one. Powerful as she is now, she wouldn’t have a bloody chance—heck, neither would I. I need her help to make sure that doesn’t happen. Better?”
Spike: [obviously frustrated/conflicted. He doesn’t say anything for a minute. Then, under his breath] “FUCK. It’s like a bloody black hole [to Duncan] Right, we’ll call you back.” [He closes up the phone.]
Miranda: [eyeing him suspiciously] “What?”
Spike: “As much as it pains me to say it, we should go to L.A.”
Miranda: “No fucking way. Sorry. It’s entirely out of the question.”
Spike: [sigh] “It’s a big city, love. Certain places can be avoided.”
Miranda: “How can you even suggest it? I thought we’d agreed that LA was off limits.”
Spike: “Well for you alone, yeah—don’t trust you for a minute in that town. But I’d come with you.”
Miranda: “What if...[her voice gets quiet]...I can’t put you through that.”
She’s thinking about if they ran into Angel—that Spike would feel humiliated because he doesn’t really know the full story at this point—he thinks she left him for Angel and that’s what Angel thinks too...So the thought of him having to be anywhere near Angel just seems too painful to bear.
Spike: “Thought you’d put me in charge of this sort of thing.”
Miranda: [skeptical] “I don’t see how this is 'that' kind of thing at all.”
Spike: “This weapon—you’d heard of it.”
Miranda: [shrugs] “Lucifer’s Sword? Sure—every Immortal has. Doesn’t make it real.”
Spike: “Trust me—I’ve had some experience with this—sometimes the fairy tales aren’t just for the kiddies.” [He’s thinking about the Ring of Amarra.]
Miranda: “So what if it is. [shrugs] We could run if we had to.”
Spike: [He’s plotting—maybe a flash of devlish!Spike.] “Or...consider this. We go to LA and get the sword. That’d make you invincible, right? Least that’s what Duncan made it sound like.”
Miranda: “Well, I suppose in terms of other Immortals it would. But I don’t really care about that anymore.” [She’s made a point that HE is the most important thing to her now.]
Spike: [His voice is soft and low—almost seductive. She’s looking at him curiously.] “Indulge me for just a moment, love. You being inv...unbeatable means you’d never have to live in fear of other Immortals. In fact, one could make the leap that if you possessed such a weapon, you could—if you wanted—use it to secure the elusive Prize that you lot seem to be so fixated on. [He moves closer to her—they lock eyes. He brings his hand up to her face and touches it softly] And what would that mean?”
Miranda: [it’s almost a question] “I could have whatever I wanted. I could change things. Maybe.”
Spike: [in a whisper] “That’s right.”
Miranda: [Leaning into him—engrossed in his stare—full of emotion.] “Should I tell you what I’d wish for?”
Spike: [Smiling—he knows he’s got her. He tilts his heads slightly.] “I already know, pet.”
Miranda: “Guess you’d better call Duncan back then.”
End Flashback.
**
Resume previous scene (back in Duncan’s shop).
Duncan: “I also failed to mention your group’s involvement—hence the subsequent phone tantrum when I called after she’d arrived.”
[Writer’s note: I have a vague memory of having written Miranda’s reaction to finding out she was expected to work with Angel and his crew, but I can’t find it. So I guess I must have left it out. Oh, the trouble with flashbacks—it’s so easy to get lost.]
Wesley: “Any idea why anyone other than an Immortal would be interested in the sword? You’d mentioned demonic monks.”
Duncan: “That’s the main reason why I decided to involve you. I’d heard some disturbing reports from friends in Europe that a group of robed monks had ransacked the old one’s shack. It’s unclear whether or not they were the ones who’d killed him, but nonetheless, they were obviously after the sword. I have no idea why. They could be working for or with one of the Dark Immortals.”
Gunn: “Monks again? [to Angel] Gah, since I started working for you, I can’t look at monks the same way anymore—is it just me, or are they always evil?”
Angel: [deadpan] “Most of the time. Not always.”
Wesley: “And what about these Dark Immortals?”
Gunn: “And don’t be telling me they’re black, else I’m going to have to get all ‘Al Sharpton’ on your ass.”
Duncan: “Just power-hungry, run-of-the-mill evil, basically. Definitely not the sort you’d expect to give a rats ass about the future of mankind. Well, actually, they’d be quite content to put the world to work for them. I’ll give the details of who of that sort is likely to be involved once Miranda gets here. Were you able to find anything out about the monks, based on the description I gave you the other night?”
Wesley: “We’ve narrowed it down to a few possibilities. Gunn has been able to get some information from one of our informants indicating that whoever they are, they’re not working in isolation. So it is likely that they are working for someone—who exactly, we haven’t been able to ascertain for certain. A few ancient artifacts have gone missing from the shops around town that deal in such things. I’m putting together a list to see what they have in common.”
Angel: “A ritual of some sort?”
Wesley: “That would be my guess. Perhaps the sword is the key to it.”
Gunn: “Or the ritual will help them get it.”
Wesley: “There are any number of possibilities.”
Angel: “We’ll keep working on it tonight—hopefully, we’ll have something before the Sword arrives.”
Duncan: “There’s one more thing. Another group we should keep our eyes out for who will go after the sword. Mortals—ex-Watchers. Did Miranda explain the Watchers to you?”
Angel: “She said they don’t interfere.”
Duncan: “These do—a group of radicals bent on controlling the destiny of the Immortals.”
Gunn: “demonic monks, Dark Immortals and radicals—sounds like a party to me.”
Angel: [to Duncan] “We don’t kill humans”
Duncan: [nods] “Hopefully it won’t come to that—if it does, Miranda and I will take responsibility. Speaking of Miranda, she should be here any minute.”