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Tough Love March 6, 2001 (Yellow) Written by: Rebecca Rand Kirshner |
| Teaser |
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INT. CLASSROOM - DAY (DAY 1) Buffy enters the classroom as the class lets out. She makes her way to the front of the room where PROFESSOR LILLIAN is trying to yank a jammed slide cartridge out of a slide projector.
Um, Professor Lillian? He looks up briefly, then back to the projector.
Sitting in the back today, Buffy?
No. I'm sorry I missed the lecture. Was it good? I mean, I'm sure it was... Embarrassed, she turns her attention to the slide projector.
Want me to try?
Thanks. The cartridge is struck.
I actually just came by to tell you that I have to drop this class. All my classes. I'm not finishing the semester. She looks at him, sad but resolute.
I'm sorry. I wish... but I can't be in school now. I've got to take care of my sister.
I thought you might... I was sorry to hear of your loss. She nods. Stops with the projector.
Um, so I have these forms from the Registrar's office that I need you to sign... She hands him a form from her shoulder bag. As he signs it:
Seems like they're trying to make it harder to get out of college than to get in. He hands it back.
Thanks. But she doesn't leave, just looks at him.
Is there something else?
Oh no. Yes. Actually, yeah. I wanted to tell you how much I loved this class. It's like, in the middle of all this, I'm paranoid that you'll think I don't like poetry. As she talks, she tries to wrest free the slide cartridge.
I mean, I know I wasn't the best student. But I learned a lot. And I really like poetry. At this, the cartridge is finally released and comes flying out of the projector, landing on the floor.
(chagrined) I really do. He smiles at her, touched by her outburst.
(re: slide projector) We'll let the AV guys hand that. I'm glad you like poetry, Buffy.
You know, I wish I had time for it. But I don't, I just don't right now. He nods. Looks at her.
Maybe short poems? Buffy smiles.
Yeah, like those Japanese ones, you know, that sound like a sneeze?
Haiku?
Right, maybe those. And hopefully I'll be back next semester.
I hope so. Off Buffy, trying to look hopeful... OVERLAPPING:
And here comes the very picture of responsibility. INT. HOSPITAL - DAY Ben dashes down the hallway towards DOCTOR MCCARTHY, his wry-looking superior. As Ben approaches, he's smoothing his rumpled hair.
Benjamin, this is a pleasant surprise.
I'm sorry I'm late.
You're not late.
(looking at his watch) But sir--
You can't be late to a job you don't have. Interestingly enough, I've decided to give your job to someone who'd actually do it. Dr. McCarthy's real feelings start to break through his ironic stance:
Honest to God Ben, I've been calling you for two weeks. Where the hell have you been? I didn't want to... I'm sorry to fire you, but I need someone I can count on.
I haven't been here... (realizing) I haven't been here in two weeks. (to the Doctor) There's an explanation for this. (a beat) Which I can't exactly give you. I... can I just tell you it's not my fault?
Sure. You can also tell me that the dog ate your homework; or maybe eating Twinkies made you do it; or maybe, yeah, that there's a really wicked demonic creature living inside you that takes control of your body and forces you to do its bidding. (then) Take responsibility for your actions, Ben. Ben is furious.
I...I...this. Forget it. Just forget it. He starts to walk away.
Ben, wait. Ben turns around, hopeful.
I'm going to need to ask you for your ID Badge. Ben unclips his picture ID badge and looks at it. There it is, some small but real evidence of his existence separate from Glory. He tosses it back towards the Doctor.
Take it. It's worthless anyway. The Doctor misses and the picture falls to the ground. Lies there: Ben's smiling face. INT. LOCOR ROOM - SOON AFTER (DAY) Ben's face is contorted by fury. He stands at his locker, throwing stuff into a duffel bag. Muttering to himself, in great mental pain.
This is so unfair. You're taking everything away from me. Everything that I worked for. I earned. I care about. These are my choices. This is my life, and you're ruining it. He pauses, feeling something dangerous rumbling inside him. Panic floods his eyes. All of a sudden, he's not angry, he's scared, pitiful.
No...no...not here...not now. Please. He clutches at his face, trying to hold on to himself.
(a mantra) I'm Ben. I'm Ben. I'm Ben. I'm Ben. I'm Ben! ANGLE ON BEN'S FIST as he BANGS it against the locker door for emphasis.
I'M BEN! I'M BEN! I'M BEN! But he's not strong enough. BEN'S HAND as it trembles and then morphs, the fingers thinner, then nails longer and polished in red. The fingers drum against the locker door. Pull back to reveal GLORY as she dusts herself off, smoothing her hair.
(petulant) I'm hungry. BLACK OUT.
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| Act One |
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INT. GLORY'S APARTMENT - BATHROOM - DAY (DAY 2) Glory luxuriates in a large lion-foot bathtub just brimming with bubbles. Three minions -- JINX, MURK, and a new guy, SLOOK -- kneel around the tub, blindfolds tied tight around their eyes. They are armed with various bath items and delicacies: a loofah, a tray of Mimosas, a box of chocolates, magazines, etc. Glory stretches, relaxing.
Ahh. They got this part right., that's for sure. Lot of sucky things in this dimension. Bubble baths? Not one of them, know what I mean?
I am in most thunderous agreement, oh glittering, glistening Glorificus
I wasn't talking to you.
(nervous) Begging your pardon, and begging in general, but were you talking to me?
Ew! Yeah, right. Like any of you have ever bathed anyway.
Oh, but we do, your Scrumptiousness. We bathe in your splendiferous radiance, your aromatic--
How about you shut up and listen to me, you disgusting little fools. Okay, now I asked for the Key, and you brought me a vampire. A pulseless, impure, follicley-fried vampire. Loofah. Murk hands her a loofah. Glory extends one leg up in the air and begins to exfoliate.
Now, what I think we have here is a failure... FOR YOU TO DO YOUR FRIGGIN' JOBS. Pardon my French. Mimosa. With a shaking hand, Slook hands her a Mimosa in a fluted glass. She sips it.
Mmm, vitamins! So, I think you better rack your little Minion brains and tell me everything that you saw when you were spying on Buffy and her wacky pals. Everything. Then I'll figure out who the Key is. INT. PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE - DAY Buffy and Dawn sit side by side, across the desk from the Junior High Principal, a handsome Hispanic woman with graying hair, PRINCIPAL STEVENS. They are mid-conversation.
You lied to me, Dawn? Dawn studies her fingernails.
Didn't lie, exactly...
Oh, yeah? What about all the times I asked you how school was and you said, "fine."
Well it was! You didn't ask if I was in it... (smaller) when it was fine... Buffy shakes her head, nonplussed.
(to the Principal) I don't know what to say. I guess you probably know it's been a really hard time for Dawn these last few months and not that that's an excuse--
I understand. Your mother was a lovely woman and we'll all miss her very much. (beat) I know how difficult it must be.
It is. For Dawn, especially. I mean, she's just a kid. Principal Stevens looks off, lost in thought.
Hmmm. Well... (eyes back on Buffy) I think we both know that Dawn is a lot more than "just a kid." Buffy and Dawn look startled. Does she know...?
She's a talented young girl with a sharp mind. (looking at Dawn) When she puts the effort in. Dawn self-consciously looks away.
Look, I realize there's been some ball dropping, but I'm sure this'll all--
Dawn. Why don't you wait outside for a few minutes. Dawn throws a sheepish glance at Buffy, then stands, moves to the door and exits. BUFFY watches her go, then turns back to PRINCIPAL STEVENS, whose demeanor's become a bit more serious. They stare at each other for a moment. ON BUFFY'S expression of dread... INT. MAGIC SHOP - DAY A quiet day. An OLDER COUPLE browses the shop. GILES sits behind the counter. WILLOW and XANDER sit at the table. Willow reads a school book. Xander studies a comic. ANYA stands nearby, observing the Older Couple, scrutinizing them. Xander notices.
Honey, old saying: "A watched customer never buys."
They would if they were patriotic. Willow and Xander exchange a look.
Okay, I'm going in. (to Anya) Patriotic?
Yes. I've recently come to realize there's more to me than just being human. I'm also an American.
I suppose you are, in a matter of speaking. You were born here. Your mortal self.
That's right, foreigner. So I've been reading a lot about the good ol' US of A, embracing the extraordinarily precious ideology that helped to shape and define it.
Democracy.
Capitalism. A free market dependent on the profitable exchange of goods for currency. A system of symbiotic beauty apparently lost on these old people. Look at them. ANYA'S POV - The kindly-looking couple browsing, having a nice time.
Perusing the shelves, undressing the merchandise with their eyeballs... all ogle, no cash. It's not just annoying, it's un-American.
(looking over at them) Yes, appalling. Almost as if they no longer think money can buy happiness.
Totally. Un-American. And you know what else is un-American? French people.
You don't say.
From what I hear, they don't tip. French old people, that's really the bottom of the barrel, huh?
Ahn, how 'bout we try being a bit less prejudiced and a bit more inclusive? (then, indicating him and Willow) Not us, just you.
Fine. (then) I'm going to make those fogies buy things. As she crosses to the other side of the shop... Buffy and Dawn enter.
Hey, what's up? It's Dawn Giovanni and the Buffster.
Hi.
Hey, everybody.
(to Buffy) So all went well at the university, I trust.
Yep. I'm all dropped out.
Good on you. Welcome to the real world.
Why do people who don't go to college always refer to everything outside of college as the "real world"? Like college is some imaginary realm with elves and witches and... (thinks about it) Huh.
(to Buffy) Lotta fun to be had on the outside. You'll see.
Well, this is just for now. I'm thinking I'll probably go back next semester.
And that's cool too. Whatever you choose, you've got my support. Just think of me as...as your... (then) You know, I'm searching for 'supportive things' and I'm coming up all bras. So. Something slightly more manly preferably, think of me as that. Seriously, whatever you need.
Thanks. Actually, I need to speak to Giles alone for a minute.
Cool. That's cool.
Willow, mind watching the till?
Not at all. As Giles and Buffy cross to the back room, Buffy looks at Dawn.
Um, Dawn, why don't you get started on your homework, okay? If you need help... (to Willow) Will, could you...? Willow gives a comforting nod as Buffy and Giles exit. INT. TRAINING ROOM - DAY Buffy is slumped on the training mat, her head resting against a punching bag. Giles stands.
I don't know what to do... She's messing up. I'm messing up. It's... a mess.
You're going to have to put your foot down with her.
I try. My foot's not used to being put down. (then) I want you to do it. Can't you be the foot-putting-downer?
No, Buffy, I don't think so.
Please? Pretty please? C'mon, your feet are way bigger than mine! I mean, you're so much more a grown-up than me. She needs an authority figure, a strong guiding hand. She'll listen to you--
Just like you always have?
I listen. He raises his eyebrows.
I do.
Then perk up your ears. I may be a grown-up, but you're her family. Her only real family now. She needs you to do this. A moment passes as Buffy lets this sink in. Slowly, she drags herself up from the mat.
Right. She needs me. As she heads towards the door:
Me the grown up. Me the authority figure. The guiding hand and stompy foot that is me.
That's the spirit.
Okay, I can do this.
I know you can. For a second Buffy loses her gumption:
(a plea) Please?
(kind) No.
(sucking it up) Right. Here we go. As they exit the training room into the Magic Shop proper:
Early to bed, early to rise; balanced breakfasts; hospital corners; museum visits. It's a new beginning: discipline, authority... INT. MAGIC SHOP - CONTINUOUS She enters and sees something.
Order...? ANGLE: Willow, Anya, and Xander, lying in the shape of a triangle on the floor of the Magic Shop. Dawn stands in the middle of them. Willow and Dawn are laughing hysterically.
What is this? Dawn freezes when she hears Buffy. Willow throws an exaggerated, 'Oops, busted' look to Dawn.
Dawn, I thought I told you to do your homework. Anya and Xander seem embarrassed; they exit to another part of the shop. Giles follows.
I was.
Please don't lie to me.
I'm not.
We were acting out a geometry problem. 'Cause I just read this really neat article that said kids learn math better when you tap into their visual learning patterns; you know, using the right brain too, instead of just the left and stuff like that--
Uh-huh.
So we made a triangle with our bodies. And that's when I called Xander 'obtuse' and he got all grumpy and then Dawn said we were 'acute' triangle and, well... hilarity ensued.
Right. Well, you know what? I think maybe Dawn should do her geometry at home.
But it was working. I was really learning--
Go get your stuff. Dawn goes to gather her schoolbooks and backpack.
(under her breath) Fine, don't listen to me.
(to Buffy, trying to lighten the moment) Don't get all grouchy at her... Who among us can ignore the allure of really funny math puns?
It's really important Dawn finishes her school work right now.
I know it is. And I'm a big fan of school. You know me, I'm all: 'Go school, it's your birthday'! Or something to that effect.
Look. I know you mean well but you just don't understand. And there's no way you could.
I do so understand. You're stressed out--
I'm more than stressed out. I'm freaked out.
Yeah. Well, maybe you need a little break to de-freak. You could come to the World Culture Fair, if you want, with me and Tara.
Nah, I don't think so.
C'mon, you could bring Dawn and it could be really fun. I mean educational- type fun, in a discipliney sort of way. Supposedly the highlights last year were baked sushi and some inexperienced yogis who tried to walk on burning coals and--
Can't do it Will. But don't worry. It's not like I don't have a life. I do. I have Dawn's life. (to Dawn) You ready? Buffy firmly leads Dawn out of the shop. As they exit, Dawn turns her head to Willow and rolls her eyes. Off Dawn's look we cut to: INT. GLORY'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAY Glory has a new expression on her face: a look of confidence and near serenity.
So it's her. Under our noses all this time. I like the detail work those monks did. Quirks, foibles, passions. It's all so cute, so human, ya know? Pretty convincing really. But not convincing enough. They sand by the door to her apartment. Glory's dressed now and Jinx, Murk, and Slook stand all in a row, awaiting her orders.
You all know your assignments. I think it's time to collect the Key. They move to exit. BLACK OUT.
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| Act Two |
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INT. WILLOW'S DORM ROOM - DAY Willow and Tara getting ready to go to the fair, Tara getting both their jackets from the closet as Willow puts on her shoes.
It wasn't anything, really; Buffy was just being kinda crabby at Dawn about her schoolwork.
Well, it's understandable...
Sure it is! I'd totally be blowing off classes if I was in Dawnie's shoes.
Sweetie, you wouldn't blow off class if your head was on fire. And I meant Buffy.
Buffy what?
Understandable. About the crabby; I mean she has to look after Dawn now.
Yeah, but not in a 'Miss Minchin's Select Seminary for Girls' way, I mean she'll just make Dawn even more rebellious--
(overlapping slightly) I had to deal with my brother's problems after, I mean -- you really can't know what it's like to--
(defensively) I know that. Slight pause -- there was a touch of bitterness, just a touch, in that reply.
I didn't mean--
No, I just, I mean I know I can't know what you went through, I just... It's no big.
I made you mad.
No, no...
All I meant was that--
--It's okay, the whole Buffy thing just -- Forget it.
No, please, if I... I mean, tell me if I said something wrong. Otherwise I know I'll say it again, probably often and in public.
No, I was snippy gal, it's just... I know I can't, on some level... it's like my opinion isn't worth anything because I haven't been through... I didn't lose my mom, so I don't know...
Well I'm not the expert, I mean, I only lost one... Do I act like I'm the big Knowledge Woman?
No...
Is that "no" spelled Y-E-S?
S-O-R-T of... it's just... I mean I just feel like the junior partner sometimes, you've been doing everything longer than me, you've been out longer, and practicing witchcraft way longer--
--Oh but you're way beyond me there. In just a few -- I mean it frightens me how powerful you're getting. Beat. That was definitely the wrong thing to say.
That's a weird word.
(knows damn well) "Getting"?
It frightens you? I frighten you?
That's so not what I mean. I meant impresses, impressive...
Well I took Psyche 101 -- I mean, I took it from an evil government scientist who was skewered by her Frankenstein-like creation right before the final -- but I know what a Freudian slip is. (beat) Don't you trust me?
With my life!
That's not what I mean.
Can't we just go the fair?
I'm not feeling real multicultural right now. What is it about me that you don't trust?
It's not that. I worry. Sometimes... You're changing so much, so fast, I don't know... where you're heading...
Where I'm heading?
I'm saying everything wrong.
(vulnerable) I think you're being pretty clear. It isn't the witch thing -- this is about the other changes in my life.
I trust you. I just... I don't know where I'm gonna fit in. In your life, when --
When I 'change back'? Yeah, this is just a college thing, just a little experimentation before I get over the thrill and head back to boys' town. You think that? She is pretty confrontational here. Even Tara is surprised that she meets it halfway:
Should I? Beat. Bitter.
You know, I'm really sorry I didn't establish my lesbo street cred before I got into this relationship. But you're the only woman I've ever fallen in love with, so how on earth could you possibly take me seriously? And she's heading out.
Willow, please--
Have fun at the fair. She's gone. Tara is stricken. EXT. BUFFY'S PORCH - DAY We see two minions creeping up to be near the window. Push in to see: INT. BUFFY'S HOUSE - DINING ROOM - DAY Buffy and Dawn sit opposite each other at the dining room table. Dawn is doing her homework and Buffy is folding laundry. Buffy talks excitedly; her energy high.
Okay, so I think the next step is to make a chart. A schedule. I'll write down all the things you're supposed to do and when you have to do them and there'll be a box for everything and you can make a big x in it when you're accomplished your task. Dawn looks up from her homework, giving Buffy the evil eye.
What? You want gold stars, you can have gold stars--
I don't want gold stars. I don't want any of this.
I'm just trying to give you a normal life.
Well, good luck. Buffy looks at Dawn. They hold each other's eyes.
What? What am I doing wrong now?
This is for real, Dawn.
No, it isn't. I'm not real, so why would my exciting graph of chores be real? Who cares if a Key gets an education anyway? Dawn puts down her pen, shoves her homework to one side defiantly. Buffy pushes it back in front of her.
It's not a graph. It's a chart. And you are real.
Yeah? Those Monks put grades K through Eight in my head. Can't we just wait and see if they drop Nine in there too?
Dammit, Dawn, this is serious!
Why? Why should I care about any of this?
Because they'll take you away! Shocked, Dawn stares at Buffy. Buffy collects herself.
Take me away? What do you mean?
They'll take you away from me. That's what your principal told me when you weren't in the room. If I can't make you go to school, I won't be found fit to be your legal guardian. A beat as Dawn takes this in.
Where would I go?
I don't... Dad, maybe? Or foster care? I didn't... I didn't really want to ask.
You could've told me that.
I just did. Dawn stares at Buffy, silently asking her for a way out of this. Buffy shrugs, helpless, not knowing how to make it better. A SAD SONG STARTS They sit together, but they're far apart. INT. MAGIC SHOP - DAY THE SAD SONG PLAYS Willow sits by herself in the front corner where the cushions are. She's lonesome and sad, scared and emotionally bruised by her first real fight with Tara. Across the show, Giles and Anya work at the cash register, oblivious to Willow's solitary pain. Willow's lost in thought. Then she seems to have come to a decision. She looks towards the door. EXT. CAMPUS - DAY THE MUSIC CONTINUES as we pan to the campus grounds. The sun is out and the quad is overtaken by college kids enjoying the Arts Fair. There are booths set up with food, art and music of different cultures. In the distance we see a long Chinese Dragon puppet, weaving through the crowds. A Hispanic kid in Lederhosen is hitting on a pretty girl. Flags are flying, people are playing different instruments, and in general a happy chaos reigns. ANGLE: TARA ALONE ON A BENCH. Alone amongst all this jubilation, she sits watching the happy students as they pass. Her face blank with sorrow. THE SONG ENDS and we can hear one of the loneliest sounds in the world: other people laughing when you're depressed and alone. ANGLE: A FEMALE HAND SLIDES UNDER TARA'S. It gives a gentle squeeze. ANGLE: TARA'S FACE She starts to smile. Willow has found her! She turns toward her friend. WIDER: TARA AND GLORY It's not Willow sitting next to Tara. It's Glory. Tara's expression changes to shock and fear. Glory smiles.
This seat taken? ANGLE: THE HANDS Glory squeezes, securing the grip. INT. MAGIC SHOT - DAY Willow still looks blank. But she's on her feet now. She wanders over near the counter. Giles is cutting open a package wrapped in twine.
I hope this isn't another return. Everyone wants petrified hamsters, then they're never happy with them. He takes in Willow's blank appearance.
Are you all right? Willow nods sadly.
Yeah.
Ah yes. Your good mood is both obvious and contagious.
I had a fight with Tara. It was awful. As Giles talks, he picks a piece of merchandise off the counter, moves through the swinging doors to put it on a shelf. Willow follows him. [NOTE: WE ARE ESTABLISHING A SIDE DOOR TO THE SHOP HERE].
I'm sorry.
Me too.
You two don't quarrel much, do you?
Never. 'Til today.
Well, it's over now.
(panicked) Over? How can it be over? I just found her!
The quarrel is over.
Oh. Yeah. Giles senses something at the side door. He barely registers it.
And you'll feel better when you make your apologies. Then you'll know you can fight without the world ending. Giles casually rests a hand on the doorknob of the side door.
I know it must seem bleak now, but as they say, "This too... IN ONE SWIFT MOTION, HE YANKS THE DOOR OPEN A Minion--Slook--who was spying outside the door comes tumbling forward. THEN, JUST AS QUICK, GILES SLAMS THE DOOR HALF-WAY SHUT, CRACKING IT against the Minion's skull, and OPENING IT so the Minion falls forward into his arms.
...shall pass." During this commotion, Anya has run to join the others. She and Willow stare at Giles.
Wow! Giles pulls Slook into the open area of the store. Getting a grip on the Minion's hair, Giles shoves him down onto his knees.
Now, what do we have here?
He's one of those things that work for Glory.
Yes. How helpful. The Minion looks Giles square in the eye.
I do indeed work for the God. Let me go if you do not wish to incur her anger.
But she's not here. What a marvelous opportunity for you and me to talk.
I will never betray Glorificus. I will never talk, no matter what heinous torture--
Actually, you're talking quite a lot. But not about the right things. Tell us why you were here.
No words shall pass my lips that would bring peril to Glorificus. Giles holds the Minion's gaze. Without looking away.
Quickly you two, on the counter... get the twine. Let's tie him up. We follow Anya and Willow as they grab the lengths of twine off the counter. They are startled by A LOUD CRUNCH AND AN ANGUISHED GASP OF PAIN. Anya and Willow turn to see: SLOOK Pale and sweaty. Trembling at Giles' feet.
(desperate) Don't... I'll tell you anything. Please. Whatever you want to know. Just... I'll... anything...
What happened?
(casual, almost sheepish) He changed his mind.
I'm... I'm supposed to watch. We're watching the Slayer's people. (beat) While Glory fetches the Key. A horrible pause.
Glory knows who the Key is? Panic fills their eyes.
Oh God.
We've got to call Buffy.
Too late. Too late. Glorificus will find the witch and there's nothing you can do to stop her.
Witch. What do you mean--
(as it hits) Tara.
She is the new one among you. It wasn't hard to figure out. The Glorious One will have found her by now. She will have her Key. Willow's adrenaline is racing; she's ready for action. Heading to the door.
Willow, wait. I'll go with--
No. Call Buffy. Go look in Tara's room. I'm going to check the Fair. And she's out the door. EXT. CAMPUS - DAY Glory sits next to Tara on the bench still holding her hand.
This is nice. Just hanging out. Just us girls. Tara stares forward into the crowd of people laughing, playing, oblivious.
(re: handholding) You like this sort of thing, don't you? Before Tara can say anything... GLORY SQUEEZES TARA'S HAND. So hard that WE HEAR BONES SNAP. Tara GASPS, in terrible pain.
(soft and horrible) Don't make a sound. Tara's eyes dart to TWO BIG GUYS IN RUGBY SHIRTS
Nuh-uh. They won't help you. The couple passes buy. Tara's eyes move to a group of THREE BICYCLE COPS
I'd kill them. You know that. There's no one here that can stop me. She indicates people as they pass. Saying to Tara in a soft and terrifying voice:
I'll kill her. And them. And I'll kill him. And him. And her. And it'll be all your fault. With that she gives Tara's hand another BONE CRUNCHING SQUEEZE. Tara nearly retches with pain. Her face is blanched of color. But she doesn't call out. Doesn't say a thing. BLOOD STARTS TO SEEP FROM BETWEEN THE CLENCHED HANDS. APPARENTLY BONES HAVE BROKEN THE SKIN. THE BLOOD SLOWLY DRIPS THROUGH THE SLATS ONTO THE GRASS BELOW.
It's kind of funny, isn't it? All these people here and nobody who can do a thing. Not a person who can help you. That's people for you; pretty worthless. She smiles at Tara.
But Keys on the other hand... Keys are worth a very lot. Tara's eyes widen, an awful realization. She makes a tiny shake of her head but it's too late. GLORY GRABS TARA'S BLEEDING HAND AND BRINGS IT UP TO HER LIPS. SHE CLOSES HER EYES AND TAKE A BIG LICK OF THE BLOOD. SAVORS IT. Suddenly, her eyes open. SHE GAGS! SPITTING THE BLOOD ON THE GROUND!
You lying little tramp. You're not the Key. You're nothing. Just another worthless human being.
I didn't--
I hate being lied to. It makes me feel so betrayed! Glory suddenly smiles.
Hey! Do you want to make it all better? If you tell me who the KEY really is I'll let you go. Think about it. You think your hand hurts? Imagine what you'll feel with my fingers wiggling in your brain. Tara looks at her in terror.
It doesn't kill you. What it does is make you feel like you're in a noisy little dark room. Naked, and ashamed. And there are things in the dark that need to hurt you 'cause you're bad. Little pinching things that go in your ears and crawl on the inside of your skull. And you know that if the noise and the crawling would stop, you could remember how to get out. But you never ever will. She says it with the quiet unhappiness of someone who has experienced true madness herself. Tara is speechless with fear.
Who is the Key? Tara looks at her, realizing that Glory will surely brainsuck her anyway. She thinks of Dawn, of Buffy. Tara closes her eyes, jutting her chin forward proudly as tears spill down her cheeks; her expression indignant, offering her head to Glory: she'll never talk.
Fine. Glory reaches out, slides a hand down the side of Tara's face. BLACK OUT.
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| Act Three |
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EXT. CAMPUS - DAY Willow, running as fast as she possibly can. Faster. The crowd of students a blur as she pushes through them: a juggler, a group of cheerleaders in uniform. Her eyes wild, looking for Tara. SHE SEES TARA. About ten yards away. GLORY IS ABOUT TO BRAINSUCK TARA. She remains seated beside Tara, her fingers poised at Tara's temples, holding Tara's head pressed ear to ear to her.
TARA!!! Willow keeps running, pushing people out of her way. She begins a spell:
By force of heart, and mindful power, By waning time and waxing hour... GLORY'S FINGERTIPS PUSH JUST A FEW CENTIMETERS INTO TARA'S CRANIUM.
I echo Diana, um, when I decree... what is it... what is it... GLORY'S HANDS PLUNGE DEEP INTO TARA'S HEAD. GLORY WRITHES IN ECSTASY.
No...NOO! That she I love must now be... It's too late.
Free. TARA!! NOOOOO! Through the passing people, WILLOW SEES GLORY SMILE AT HER. WILLOW LUNGES TOWARDS GLORY... BUT THE CHINESE DRAGON IS IN BETWEEN THEM. And when it has passed, GLORY IS GONE. Willow goes to Tara, who still sits on the bench.
Tara! Are you okay?
It's dirty. It's all dirty. And all over me. Dirty, dirty, bad. Bad! Willow clutches Tara to her as she begins to cry.
Tara, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry. Tara looks pleadingly at Willow, her eyes trying to communicate something her brain won't help her say.
It's under my skin. Dirt, dirt, dirt... Willow rocks Tara, rubbing her back like she was soothing a baby. INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY Tara sits up on an examination table. She is wearing a hospital gown, looking scared and pitiful. Her injured hand is in a cast. Willow sits on the doctor's stool, holding Tara's good hand. She's obviously been crying. Giles, Xander, and Anya stand near them. The mood is bleak. Everyone listens as Doctor McCarthy--the same Doc who fired Ben earlier--talks to them.
Can't she go home now?
Unfortunately, no. Hospital policy dictates we keep her for the night.
Does she have to? I can take care of her at home.
It's poisoned. Why don't I tell you that? It's got to be checked though.
(kind) Is she your sister?
It has to be verified of course. Anyone could tell you that. Of course. Of course.
(quietly) She's my everything.
Well, you can get her released first thing in the morning. But she's got to spend one night in the psych ward, just for observation. We'll keep an eye on her, do a couple basic tests and then you take her home. Does that sound fair? Willow nods blankly.
Well, you hold tight then, and I'll send a nurse by in a few minutes to pick up Tara. He leaves. Willow stays near Tara, kissing her head, having a few private moments. The others stand together awkwardly.
Words cannot express how much I hate this place. Giles nods.
And yet the same words I say when I hit my thumb with a hammer keep coming to mind.
It's dreadful.
(darkly) It's like Communism. Buffy enters and goes straight to Willow.
Will. I'm so sorry. She holds her tight. Tara looks at Buffy and smiles a strange smile.
They kill mice.
Tara. Buffy tries to hug Tara; Tara remains stiff.
(to Willow) I'm sorry it took me so long. But I'm here now and Dawn's safe with Spike so I can stay as long as you need me. Willow nods to show her gratitude.
I'm so scared. OVERLAPPING:
Nothing to be worried about, kid... OMITTED INT. CAVES - DAY Spike and Dawn walk through the creepy caves together. Dawn carries a flashlight. Spike is limping, still bruised and battered from episode 18.
No one's gonna hurt you.
Oh yeah, the same no one who did that to you?
What, these? Just a few bruises. Nothing to write home about. Dawn doesn't respond. She looks grave.
Hey, chin up, Platelet. And don't get scared. Maybe Glory doesn't want to kill you. Maybe it's something--
Worse? They keep walking. Then Dawn stops, slumps to the ground. She buries her head in her hands. Spike kneels beside her. After a moment, he tentatively reaches out a hand to pat her head.
(comfortingly) Hey. Just as she whirls at him, her eyes flashing:
You want to know what I'm scared of, Spike? In an instant, Spike withdraws his hand and makes like he was just planning on running it through his hair--cool-like.
Me. Right now, Glory thinks Tara's the Key. But I'm the Key, Spike. I am. And anything that happens to Tara is 'cause of me. She points at Spike's bruises.
Your bruises, your limp... That's all me, too. I'm like a lightning rod for pain and hurt... and everyone around me suffers... and... (tearing up) And dies. I... This stupid Key must be something horrible... to cause so much... evil.
Rot--
What do you know? Spike pauses.
I'm a vampire. I know something about evil. You're not evil.
Maybe, maybe not. Maybe I'm not evil but I don't think I can be good. Another beat as Spike thinks.
Well, I'm not good, and I'm okay. INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - DAY CLOSE ON TARA'S FRANTIC FACE as her wheelchair is pushed out of the room by a nurse. She strains to look back at Willow.
Don't... please don't with that treachery. I told the cats. And now I beg my mother, sitting all alone.
'Bye Tara. I'll see you tomorrow. I love you. At the last second, Willow can't let Tara go. She tries to follow her out the door, but Xander catches her in his arms. Holding her.
Will, no. It's just for one night.
Yeah, I know. But it's a whole night and I don't think I can sleep without her.
You can sleep with me. (realizing) You know, that came out a lot more lesbian than it sounded in my head.
Will, you just have to rest. Right now there's nothing you can do. Willow looks up, determined.
Yes, there is. Buffy looks at her, understanding.
No. No way... Willow exits into the hallway. Buffy follows. INT. HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS
You can't even think about taking on Glory. Willow faces Buffy. Strong.
You saw what she did to Tara. I can't let her get away with it.
No, you have to let her get away with it. Even I'm no match for her, you know that.
But maybe I am. Willow starts to walk down the hall. Buffy blocks her way.
You're not. And I won't let you go.
It's not your choice, Buffy; it's mine.
This is not the time.
(hot) When, Buffy? When is? When you feel like it? When it's someone you love like I love Tara? When it's Dawn, is that it Buffy?
No. When we have a chance. We'll fight her when we have a chance. Willow pauses.
You wouldn't last five minutes Willow. She's a god. Willow nods, slowly. Then she slumps as if every atom in her body is giving up.
Fine. I'll wait.
It's the only choice.
Yeah. Willow turns around and walks off in the opposite direction.
Can I do anything--
Just let me be alone. Buffy watches her go, slowly making her way down the hall. INT. THE MAGIC BOX - DAY Sharp change of pace. Willow moving quickly now. As she enters the closed shop. And makes her way to the balcony ladder, nimbly climbing it. She's now in the special OFF-LIMITS SECTION that Dawn pilfered in episode 17. Her movements are quick and decisive; she doesn't worry about leaving things as she found them. A SERIES OF CUTS: She spots some of the move evil, dangerous potions: she pockets A SMALL LEATHER BAG FULL OF POWDER and a RED GLASS BOTTLE. CUT: She yanks open a drawer filled with TALISMANS, RUNES, as well as NUMEROUS KNIVES and JEWELED DAGGERS. CUT: She's at the book shelf, looking for something. After a beat, she begins feverishly PULLING BOOKS OUT, letting them fall upon the floor. CUT: When all the books have been removed from the shelf, she sees what she wants, pressed against the back of the shelf: A GIANT BLACK LEATHER BOOK WITH A HUGE BRASS LOCK ON ITS PAGE SIDE She HEAVES IT TO THE GROUND where we can see its title: "DARKEST MAGICK" SHE HEFTS AN AXE AND SWINGS THE BLADE AT THE BRASS LOCK. THE LOCK BREAKS OPEN AND THE DANGEROUS PAGES BEGIN TO FLUTTER AS IF IN A SUDDEN WIND. BLACK OUT.
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| Act Four |
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INT. GLORY'S APARTMENT - BEDROOM - DAY Glory paces, energetically rifling through some DRESSES on hangers, considering them and tossing them aside, letting them fall just anywhere. The Minions scurry to pick them up as they drop.
Too summery, too power-suit, eugh, way too nineties, and... oh. She stops. Turns, holding the last dress up against her.
What do you think? (beat) For just a basic show up and slaughter your enemies thing. The minions pause, a little thrown. Glory's waiting.
The garments themselves merely serve to heighten your magnificence, oh holiest one. Glory nods, satisfied.
Good point. She goes into the: INT. GLORY'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - DAY/EVENING
You know, I think I'm a little buzzed from eating that witch. What a mind she had. Nummy treat.
...Is your grace not the slightest bit... concerned about...
What, about the Slayer? Don't be stupid. I know I'm closing in. The Key's as good as mine. Girl like Buffy's got just so many friends. All I gotta do is rip through 'em, one by one, until I finally... SUDDENLY THERE'S A RUMBLING. Glory stops. Listens. THE SOUND GROWS LOUDER, LIKE A CONSTANT THUNDER. The Minions look to Glory. THE ROOM BEGINS TO SHAKE EVR SO SLIGHTLY. A VASE FALLS FROM A TABLE AND CRASHES TO THE GROUND. THE ROOM BECOMES DARKER; OUTSIDE, DAY HAS TURNED TO NIGHT.
Did anybody order an apocalypse? THEN VERY QUICKLY: THE BOLTS AND LOCKS ON THE DOOR UNLOCK THEMSELVES AND THE DOOR FLIES OPEN. AND WILLOW IS THERE. NOT STANDING, BUT FLOATING A GOOD FOOT AND A HALF ABOUT THE FLOOR. Her arms are extended at her sides, palms facing front. Her hair and clothes are blowing behind her as if she stands at the bow of a boat. AND HER EYES. Her eyes show no pupils, no irises, they are completely black. And they GLOW. SHE MOVES TOWARDS US, TOWARDS GLORY. Incanting all the while, almost inaudible at first, but growing:
Kali, Hera, Kronos, Tonic... The Minions run in terror, secreting themselves somewhere at the back of the apartment.
Air like nectar thick as Onyx... Cassiel by your second star...
(realizing) It's the lover. (then) That's so cute. GLORY STRIDES TOWARDS WILLOW. But only gets a couple steps before:
Hold mine victim, as in tar! Suddenly, Glory's stopped cold - caught in the mire of Willow's spell. She pushes forward but it's hard -- Something invisible making the air impossibly viscous. GLORY SNARLS LIKE AN ANIMAL SNARED IN A TRAP. Willow speaks in a strange and warbling voice, like a fairy tale's wicked witch.
I. Owe. You. Pain. And on the word "pain," WILLOW'S EMPTY EYES GLOW BRIGHTER. SHE RAISES BOTH ARMS, AIMING TEN FINGERTIPS STRAIGHT AT GLORY. ENERGY BLASTS FROM HER FINGERTIPS. Glory gets engulfed in the wave of unholy energy. We see and hear her do something she's never done before: Glory SCREAMS. INT. CAVES - EVENING Buffy, Spike and Dawn in the caves. They are mid-conversation. Dawn looks devastated. Buffy tries to protect her by down-playing what has happened to Tara.
So, what'd the doctors say? Is Tara... like those guys in the mental ward, or, is it different somehow?
They said there's no way of knowing right now.
'Cause... none of those guys got better. I mean, none of them.
(softly) Dawn honey... Tara might not either. Buffy tries to comfort Dawn as Dawn buries her head in her hands, starting to cry.
It's all my fault.
It's not your fault.
How's Willow?
She was looking to go all paybacky on Glory for a minute there, but I cooled her down a little. (shrugs) Actually, a lot.
She's not gonna do anything rash, then.
I explained, you know, there was no point.
Uh huh.
What?
So, you're saying a powerful and mightily pissed-off witch was planning to go out and spill herself a few pints of God blood until you... (skeptical) ...explained? Spike fixes Buffy with a quizzical look. Waiting...
(realizing) You think she'd...? No. I told Willow, fighting Glory'd be suicide...
I'd do it. Buffy looks at him. He looks to the ground.
Right person. Person I loved. And back to her eyes.
I'd do it.
Think, Buffy. If Glory'd done that to me... Buffy stands motionless a moment, thinking. It hits her. And without a word, she BOLTS out of there... INT. GLORY'S APARTMENT - EVENING Close on Willow's face, streaked by tears, her eyes glowing eerily. She no longer floats, standing on the ground now. The apartment has been trashed. Curtains pulled down, furniture broken. We see the remnants of Willow's spells: the leather bag on the floor; broken red glass from the potion bottle.
Shatter! Across the room, A LARGE MIRROR SHATTERS ON THE WALL, its SHARDS falling on Glory, raining down around her. Glory LAUGHS.
(laughing) Is that it? Is that the best you can do? Despite her laughing, she looks like she's taken a few blows. Her dress is torn, she staggers just a little...
You think I care about all this? The apartment, the clothes... As she says this she stands up straight and rips off her dress, revealing a full black slip.
I don't give a rat's ass when it comes right down to it. She BACKHANDS WILLOW, FLINGING HER ACROSS THE ROOM. WILLOW LANDS ON A LARGE CHAIR WHICH TAKES ON HER MOMENTUM, CATAPULTING ACROSS THE FLOOR, AND TIPPING OVER ONTO WILLOW.
Sucking on your girlfriend's mind, now that was something to treasure. WILLOW FREES HERSELF, STANDS, AND NEVER TAKES HER EYES OFF GLORY. A LEATHER BAG slides across the floor, fast, by itself. Stops right in front of Willow. Unties itself and opens up like a flower.
What's this? Bag of tricks? Suddenly A DOZEN KNIVES FLY STRAIGHT UP OUT OF THE BAG, INTO THE AIR, POINTING AT GLORY - THEY FREEZE IN MID-AIR...
(grim) Bag of knives. WHOOSH! THE ENTIRE DOZEN KNIVES ALL FLY STRAIGHT FORWARD AT GLORY SIMULTANIOUSLY. GLORY STANDS HER GROUND, AND, FASTER THAN THE EYE CAN FOLLOW, BATS THE KNIVES OUT OF THE WAY. ONLY ONE OR TWO GET THROUGH HER DEFENSE. AND THE ONES THAT DO - BOUNCE OFF. Glory laughs, LIFTS A TABLE AND CHUCKS IT AT WILLOW WITH INCREDIBLE FORCE. SMASH! Willow, CRIES OUT, in pain as the table hits her. She goes down. But manages to return the volley:
(weak) Spirit of serpents now appear. Hissing, writhing, striking near. The carpet Glory stands upon suddenly RISES UP from all four corners (CGI). The corners begin twisting themselves around Glory like a huge snake.
Now this is getting weak... As she says this, Glory simply WALKS THROUGH the twisting carpet. It EVAPORATES as she passes. (NOTE: THIS EFFECT IS ALL IN ONE SHOT). Willow, injured, watches as Glory approaches. Glory comes closer to Willow, clutches her face in one hand, taking a good look at her prey.
And so are you, honey. WILLOW'S EYES HAVE TURNED BACK TO NORMAL. She is weak.
Aren't you? WILLOW SPITS IN GLORY'S FACE. Glory doesn't move, lets the spittle slowly drip off.
You're going to regret that. Glory grabs Willow by one wrist and drags her across the room with ease. Willow slides along the floor like a wounded animal.
(weak) No... Glory scoops up a knife from the floor without breaking stride. She lifts Willow up, holding her against the wall by her wrist.
You know what they used to do to witches, Lover? Glory raises the knife high into frame, ready to plunge it into Willow. Willow can watch but she can't move.
Crucify 'em. The knife blade comes whistling down - then STOPS. Glory's wrist is held fast. She looks up to see - BUFFY.
They used to bow down to gods. Buffy twists Glory's wrist straight back, making her drop the knife with a small cry of pain.
Things change. Buffy lets loose with a solid ROUNDHOUSE KICK, tagging Glory square in the head and sending her whole body whipping sideways. BUFFY PRESSES THE ATTACK, LANDING A QUICK SERIES OF BLOWS. GLORY TAKES THEM IN STRIDE, THEN COUNTERS. BUFFY EVADES GLORY'S BLOWS, BACKS UP AGAINST THE COUCH... AND IN A MOMENT OF TREMENDOUS STRENGTH, BUFFY PUSHES THE FAINTING COUCH AT GLORY, KNOCKING THE WIND OUT OF HER. Buffy picks the groggy Willow up off the floor. Glory thrusts the couch aside and strides forward toward Buffy and Willow with purpose and confidence. Willow weakly raises up one hand, holds it palm-out at Glory:
(weakly) Thicken. And Glory STOPS - stuck again. She presses against her invisible barrier - unable to move forward...
This isn't over. Buffy helps Willow to her feet and they run out the door.
Do you hear me? It isn't over! INT. TARA'S ROOM - DAY (DAY 3) Suitcases and boxes filled with Tara's belongings lie on the floor, some closed, some still awaiting more stuff. Tara sits crossed-legged on the bed wearing flannel pajamas and a blank expression. Willow, Buffy, and Dawn sit on the edges of the bed, around her. Willow looks exhausted. Buffy opens a bag of sandwiches. The mood is peaceful, safe. Like they've found a quiet eddy in the storm. Though they joke, they're neither boisterous nor forced, just dear and tired friends allowing themselves to have a moment of calm.
Chicken salad?
Right here.
Eggplant, that's me. And, what is this, peanut butter and... ew, salami, Dawn? Dawn takes the sandwich from her.
Yeah, like eggplant is normal. It's what - half-egg, half-plant? 'Cause that's just unnatural. Willow holds up her chicken sandwich.
What's Tara got?
I got her tuna. Does she like... Tara, you like Tuna?
Plastic and their six sisters. Six sick sisters. Willow?
We'll just start a little slow today, okay? Buffy, can I have that? She indicates some applesauce. Buffy hands it to her. Willow looks to Tara.
Okay, Darling... Willow opens the jar and fills a spoon. Then gently, tenderly, she feeds Tara. Like a child.
There we go. Yeah, that's my girl. It's okay. I'm right here. Tara smiles. Willow fills another spoonful.
Can I help? Will lets Dawn feed Tara as she talks to Buffy.
What are you gonna need?
I don't know... They gave me a lot of stuff to keep her calm. They said I might need to restrain her at night, but... Sometimes she's fine, she looks at me and she's fine.
I'm sorry I couldn't have...
It's okay. I can do this. I'm gonna take care of her. Even if she never... She's my girl.
I understand.
I know you do. Willow and Buffy lock eyes. Then Willow returns her attention to Tara (no longer being fed) and whispers just for her:
Hear that, baby? You're my always. Willow kisses Tara's forehead and SUDDENLY THE ENTIRE WALL GETS RIPPED OUT RIGHT BEHIND HER. Our girls are blasted by the raw sunlight, suddenly exposed, vulnerable. Blinking into the light, they see their worst nightmare: GLORY
I told you this wasn't over.
No! The place is cracking, cracking. No, no, no...
Tara, it's okay. It's okay. Tara looks at Dawn and suddenly is fixated, as if seeing a rainbow for the first time:
Look at that... the light, it's so pure... (pointing at Dawn) Such a pure green energy. It's so beautiful. Tara starts to cry at the beauty of Dawn, the Key. GLORY'S EYES LIGHT ON DAWN. DAWN LOOKS TO BUFFY. BUFFY LOOKS AT GLORY. But she knows it's too late. GLORY KNOWS. BLACK OUT.
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