Scene 11
Miranda walks through the door, past Angel and starts to hobble down the walk to the shed. He can tell she’s tired and despite her protestations, he lifts her up and carries her the rest of the way. They enter the shed, which is actually a decent size, as such things go. Once inside, there is an awkward silence. Finally, Angel speaks.
Angel: “You feel OK? I can look for a chair if...[She shakes her head, but leans back against the side of the structure. More silence.] You look good. Didn’t think you’d be up and about so soon. [She’s looking down] That dress...it’s...you look beautiful.”
Miranda: [cold and blunt] “We’re never getting back together.”
Angel: “Excuse me?”
Miranda: “Men always think that someday, they’ll get back together with their ex-girlfriends and I’m here to save you a lot of time and energy and say outright that you and I will never be a couple again. Buffy seemed to think there might be some confusion on that point.”
Angel: “You talked to Buffy?”
Miranda: “She was under the misguided impression that what I did for you had something to do with you and me.”
Angel: “And it didn’t”
Miranda: “No.”
Angel: [He’s getting upset/agitated. He was sure that once they were alone, she’d be herself with him. His tone is bitter disbelief.] “Let me get this straight, just so we’re clear. You gave up a part of your soul and took on half the sins of my past, thereby arranging it so that someday I’d be able to have my soul permanently, with no happiness clause, so that I could be happy with someone else.”
He thinks saying it all out loud will emphasize [to Miranda] how ridiculous it sounds—she can’t possibly mean it.
Miranda: “Exactly. See, you’re not so thick after all.”
Angel: “He’s not here. You don’t have to say these things.”
Miranda: “Don’t have to. Need to. Else you’ll make everything impossible. Besides, it’s the truth.”
Angel: [This cuts him deeply.] “Then why?”
Miranda: “Honestly, I wasn’t thinking all that clearly at the time. I was upset, I cried out and someone with the power to make it happen heard me. That’s all. Can we be done with this topic?”
Angel: [looking at her, dejectedly—she’s still staring off to the side] “Will you look at me, for god’s sake? You can’t just pretend it didn’t happen.”
Miranda: “Can’t I?”
Angel: [this infuriates him] “Look at me.”
She frowns and then shifts and finally lifts her head to look at him.
Angel: “I love you.” [He wasn’t planning on saying that.]
Miranda: “Yeah, well, I’m sorry about that. I don’t feel the same, so...”
Angel: “How can you be this way? After everything.”
Miranda: “I don’t want to talk about it. [Her voice is still cold, but she’s looking a bit upset/teary.] It doesn’t matter now—none of it matters.”
Angel: “It matters to me.”
Miranda: “I said, I don’t want to talk about it. [disgust in her voice] I don’t even want to think about it.”
Angel: [grabbing her arm] “Stop it. It’s just us now. It happened. We were happy. Don’t you remember? [He’s somewhere between anguish and outrage.] We were happy, weren’t we? [pause] Or was it all a sham?” [This honestly hadn't occurred to him before.]
Miranda: [Seeing the hurt and confusion in his eyes, she can’t help but feel for him. She takes a deep breath. Her tone is more emotional now.] “Dammit, Angel, can’t I just be crazy? Wouldn’t that be easier for everyone? Can’t you at least see that it’s easier for me to be this way?”
Angel: [Seeing the distress on her face, he lets go of her arm] “I’m sorry. It’s just hard to hear you talk about our relationship like it was bad dream.”
Miranda: “Wasn’t it? In the end. Sometimes it’s better not to think too hard about what’s real and what isn’t.”
Angel: [bitter] “But you and Spike—that’s real? You’re so sure that you won’t change your mind about us, but you’ve already been through that with Spike. Or does your fickleness only apply to him?”
Miranda: [angry] “Fickle? How dare you. You don’t know the first thing about it.”
Angel: “Huh. Let’s review, shall we? First you loved him, then you didn’t and now you do again. I think that comes pretty damn close to the definition of fickle.”
Miranda: [deep, angry breath.] “In all the time we were together, did you ever hear me say that I’d stopped loving him? Did I ever once say the words “I don’t love Spike anymore”? No, because I couldn’t have. I chose you, but I never stopped loving him. That’s not what it was about and you know it.”
Angel: [He’s a bit taken aback by this.] “It was about you.” [It’s almost a question, as if he’s not quite sure anymore.]
Miranda: “Can we stop? This conversation will only lead us in circles. [Pause. Sincere.] I don’t want to hurt you anymore.”
Angel: [frowning] “So let’s start again. Tell me why. If it wasn’t about us, then why did you do it?”
Miranda: [sigh] “Remember, it wasn’t a conscious thing—it sprung from me. But I think I understand why. I suppose it’s because it was the only thing I could do. It was one part of your life that was still within my power to change. All I ever wanted was to help you. You were so lost and I couldn’t bear for you to be lost again without me, so this was my way of giving you hope so that you could continue. You’re the hero, not me, so who would care if I went a bit loopy.”
Angel: “Don’t say that.”
Miranda: “But it’s true. For whatever reason, you were given a purpose. Someone decided that you could make a difference. It’s something I’ve always envied in you, in Buffy. I was put on this earth to fight for a bloody prize—I’m a living piece in a video game. There’s no greater purpose in that. But then I saw a chance to help someone who has a purpose. The way I figure it, whoever controls these things—the big players in the universe—can’t directly interfere. They do battle by pushing in one direction or another, subtly influencing people and events. They make use of what is available. They wanted to help you, but couldn’t do it themselves. They needed me. And, well, it felt good to be needed. To feel a part of something.”
Angel: “You think the Powers sent you to me?”
Miranda: “Didn’t you tell me that they sent you to Buffy?”
Angel: [He’s actually more dismayed by this than he should be.] “So it was all part of a plan. Everything that happened between us. None of it was real.”
Miranda: “They couldn’t control everything—that’s the point. We’re not their puppets. They can’t control how we feel, or even the choices we make. They threw us together, but ultimately we determined the outcome.”
Angel: “So, you did...” [He looks at her, wanting to hear the words.]
Miranda: [softer] “I can’t. [He looks away, disappointed] But I do remember.”
He glances back to her and nods, thankful for the crumb. She gives him a quick smile.
Long pause.
Angel: “You could still be a part of something.”
Miranda: [finishing his thought] “But not if I’m with Spike.”
Angel: “He’ll drag you down, you know that. He’s not like you, like us. You can call him William all you want, but that doesn’t make him a man.”
Miranda: “He makes me happy, Angel. That’s the beginning and the end of it. Trust me to find my own way. Who knows, maybe I can make my own something.”
**
Switch scenes to Buffy and Spike—they’ve moved to the back porch for their little chat. They’re standing, facing each other, about 3 or 4 feet between them.
Buffy: “So here we are, William.” [mocking tone]
Spike: “Here we are.” [He looks a bit uncomfortable.]
Buffy: “I’m not in the mood to spend a lot of time on this, so why don’t we just get to it?”
Spike: [smirking] “Fine by me. I always had a feeling you wouldn’t be much for foreplay.”
He starts to pull up his shirt.
Buffy: “What? No. I meant get to the arguing, fighting. Not...[she makes a face.]
Spike: “And here I thought this was all a clever ploy on your part to get back at Angel. I’m sure Alex has video-equipment strung up around here—we could get it all on tape.”
Buffy: “You’re disgusting.”
Spike: “Hey, it was your idea.”
Buffy: “No it wasn’t.”
Spike: “Coulda sworn you gave me a look back there in the house.”
Buffy: “There was no look.”
Spike: “Come on. A bit of a wink and a nudge—I’m sure of it.”
Buffy: “No winking, no nudging. [pause.] I get it. Distraction—nice try.”
Spike: “So I distract you? Tell me, is it the tight shirt or the baby blues?”
Buffy: “Stop it. Now. I’m not in the mood.”
Spike: “Funny, ‘cause...” [She gives him a look that stops him from finishing.]
Buffy: “Getting back to the point—think you can take me?”
Spike: [smirking again] “Depends what you mean by ‘take’.”
Buffy: [down to business now] “I’m sure you must be itching to take a shot, after all the punches I’ve thrown at you the past couple of years.”
Spike: “I’m not going to fight you, Buffy.”
Buffy: “That’s pretty smart. You couldn’t beat me before the chip, so why would it be any different now? But you never know—today might be your day.”
Spike: “Tell me that isn’t your best effort. Lame even by your standards.”
Buffy: “Come on, Spike. You’re a slayer-killer, I’m a slayer—you do the math.”
Spike: [scrunching up his face and looking to the side] “Um, in case you hadn’t noticed, pet, I lost my desire to kill you quite some time ago. I seem to remember us having one or two chats on the subject.”
Buffy: “That’s when you had the chip—you couldn’t fight me. Now you’re chipless, so...”
Spike: “It wasn’t the chip that stopped me from killing you—tell me you at least know that. You’re not going to make me say it, are you?”
Buffy: [quickly] “No. no. There’ll be no saying.”
Spike: “Fine.”
Buffy: “Good. [pause] But I rejected you. If memory serves, I think I might literally have spit in your face. Doesn’t that make you mad?”
Spike: “Ancient history. It’s not about you anymore. Hasn’t been for a while. You know that, too. This is all very unimpressive—Angel help you with the script?”
Buffy: “So fine, you don’t want to kill me. What about the rest of it? Do you seriously expect me to believe that you’re not going to kill anyone ever again?”
Spike: “Yeah, that’s right.”
Buffy: [disbelief] “Come on, Spike. Do you realize how ridiculous that sounds? And how stupid I would have to be to believe you?”
Spike: “Believe what you like.”
Buffy: “So from here on out, it’s going to be all puppies and video games and rocking chairs? Not exactly the life I’d expect you to be interested in—you going to get your rocks off planting a garden?”
Spike: “Not puppies...cats. Anyway, there’s plenty of ways to get my rocks off with Miranda and I don’t just mean in the bedroom...[smiling]...or the shower, or the dining room table or...”
Buffy: “I get it.”
Spike: “I can still fight demons and help M steal stuff for her shop—it’s good fun, the antiques business. Filled with back-stabbing thieves and intimidation. And I’m pretty good at the whole heist thing so far—takes planning, that. Sort of a new thing for me. I don’t see why anything has to be different from the way it has been just because I don’t have a bloody chip giving me headaches on a regular basis.”
Buffy: “Back to the most pressing question from my perspective—tell me about your newfound respect for human life.”
Spike: “I wouldn’t go that far. If it were up to me, I’d still knock off the occasional murderer, child molester, thief, lawyer and the like—you know, people who deserve it. But Miranda’s a bit more particular, so I promised to swear off the whole lot.”
Miranda: “So what happens if she leaves you? I’ve got to weigh in the possibility of future killing sprees.”
Spike: [shaking his head] “She’s not going to leave me.”
Buffy: [correcting him] “Again. She’s not going to leave you AGAIN.”
Spike: [Ok, that’s a bit annoying. Still, he remains calm] “She loves me, Buffy.”
Buffy: “Drusilla loved you, didn’t she? And that turned out SO well. I forget, how many times did she leave you?”
Spike: [He’s clenching his teeth. He starts toying with the ring on his finger, twirling it around. After a minute, he looks up, resolute] “Miranda loves me more than anyone ever has.”
Buffy: “And you know this because...what, she told you? [laughs, skeptically] How do you know they aren’t just words? How can you be sure this isn’t just a convenient way to pass the time?”
Spike: “I know because I know her. In point of fact, probably better than she knows herself at the moment. And I love her, so...”
Buffy: [eye roll] “That’s kind of irrelevant, don’t you think? Your loving her—you seem to throw that word around a lot.”
Spike: [Shaking his head—he’s trying so hard to explain and she’s just trying to wind him up. Fine.] “You’re just jealous, is all. You’ve never had it, love like that. Maybe you coulda done if you didn’t have that special way of driving them all away with your super bitch powers.”
Buffy: “You’re one to talk. At least my exes don’t all go running to the same guy...er...girl…er person. It’s actually kind of funny when you think about it. I mean, all three women you claim to have loved in your life have all slept with the guy who is your complete opposite in every way. That’s got to sting. Oh and I definitely mean funny ‘ha ha’ funny, not funny ‘strange’ funny.”
Spike: [youch. Let’s redirect...] “Which brings up an interesting point, namely the effect your pathetic one-nighter had on ‘His Hero-ness’. Maybe this is all about your not wanting to admit the possibility that love can keep me in check, when it didn’t have the tiniest little speck of an effect on him. Well, that’s assuming he did actually love you at the time. Or maybe...”
Before he can finish, she punches him hard across the jaw. He shakes it off.
Spike: “You are SO easy to wind up, slayer. If the situation were reversed, you’d be dust by now. Personally, I think you still have some serious issues about the whole thing. Have you considered therapy?”
Buffy: “Shut up, Spike. This isn’t about me.”
Spike: [mock surprise] “What did you just say? Because I can’t imagine that I heard right—must be something wrong with my ears. Not_about_you??? And here I thought everything was about you, Buffy.”
Buffy: [angry—maybe a bit too angry] “Angel warned me you’d try to turn this around, just like you did with him. How dare you make him question himself—try to make me question him. He’s got more integrity, more strength and goodness in his little finger than you’ll ever have. Line the two of you up and any woman in her right mind would choose him. Best you can hope for is Miranda to stay a few fries short of a Happy Meal.”
Spike: [Jaw clenching, he fiddles with his ring some more and mumbles.] “You don’t get it. You can’t ‘cause you’re just like him. Fucking peas in a pod. [quick laugh] Or not fucking, as the case may be.”
There’s a brief pause where neither of them say anything. They just stand there—the mood cools a bit.
Buffy: [noticing him fiddling.] “She give you that ring?”
Spike: “Yeah. What’s it to you?”
Buffy: “You keep fiddling with it”
Spike: “Never been much for jewelry—takes a bit of getting used it, is all.”
Buffy: “I seem to remember you wearing a ring not all that long ago. And boy, wasn’t that a fun time. You said the nicest things to me.”
Spike: [Smiling at the memory. A bit sheepish.] “Got some good ones in, didn’t I?”
Buffy: “That’s the Spike I know without the chip. That’s who I can’t let walk out of here.”
Spike: “He doesn’t exist anymore.”
Buffy: “Because of her?”
Spike: “I don’t know—because of all of it. You, Dawn...all of it. Maybe having the chip made me see things I wouldn’t have seen. [pause] It could’ve been you—you were the first human I ever cared about. You and your little family. Your mum and your little sis—they treated me like anybody else. But you never gave me a second look—never took notice. I tried the best I knew how and not you or your bloody slayerettes ever saw—you never gave me a chance.”
Buffy: “Gee, sorry we didn’t all jump on the ‘Spike is a good guy’ train at the first stop—maybe it’s not so easy to get past the idea of the murderous blood sucking fiend we knew so well before.”
Spike: [laughing] “You know, Miranda told me once, back when we first got together, that I was lucky you wouldn’t let yourself see me. She said I could never be what you think you want and I could never be happy knowing that. I was dubious at the time, but I think she was dead on. Hell, I don’t know how this is going to go. Don’t even know how things have changed, but they have. One thing I do get is that that you’ll never trust me and so maybe you never should—if I live up to your expectations and I’ll be snacking on the slurpee guy at the Gas n’ Sip before week’s end. The thing is, right off, Miranda’s been trusting me a tiny bit every day—first one thing, then another. Later on, asking me to do things that no one in their right mind would ask of a vampire and I said as much at the time. But, I don’t know, somehow, bit by bit I got used to the idea of just doing it, because...well, just because. [Pause for a moment. He looks straight at Buffy and with the utmost sincerity, says:] Miranda sees who I could be, but loves who I am—that’s all the strength a bloke needs, really, to do anything.”
Buffy: [Buffy just looks at him for a moment in silence—she can’t help but be sympathetic/moved by his little speech. He seems so sincere. She stands there, looking a bit confused. In a small voice.] “Guess it all worked out for the best.”
Spike: [Sensing the change in her demeanor.] “So? Come on, say it. Once more.” [He puts his hand to his ear.]
Buffy: [Can’t stop herself from a small smirk.] “I’m not going to kill you. Right this second.”
Spike: “That wasn’t so hard now, was it? You going to talk some sense into you’re big oaf of an ex, or what?”
Just then, there’s a commotion inside the house and Willow comes rushing out.
Willow: “Hey, sorry to interrupt. [Sensing the heavy mood.] You guys weren’t having a ‘moment’, were you?”
Simultaneously.
Buffy: “Kind of.” Spike: “No.”
Willow: “Anyway, Duncan’s on the phone. Cordelia had a vision—We need to get everyone inside.”