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First, I'd like to apologize for the delay. It took me some time to get started on this story, and then I had trouble finding a beta. It shouldn't happen again.
Disclaimer: Certain characters in this fiction belong to Joss Whedon, as does the Buffyverse setting as a whole. All original characters belong to me.
The lyrics to "God's Got an Army", including the chant in the teaser, are property of Carman.
Beta: Valyssia
Rating: PG
TEASER
EXT. STOCK FOOTAGE OF HOUSTON --NIGHT
A brief montage of aerial shots of Houston, Texas, ending with a slow pan over Rice University, a sign with its name, and, finally, a crowded row of rental houses in various states of mediocre repair.
CUT TO:
EXT. RENTAL HOUSE--NIGHT
This building is in a little better shape than the others; we can tell this because we can see two of them close by on either side. Its tan paint is mostly intact and its yard has been recently trimmed. We hear the sound of blows landing on something heavy as we
CUT TO:
INT. RENTAL HOUSE--MAIN ROOM
We're looking at a lone pencil on the floor, sitting within an arc of unlit candles. A pair of crossed legs covered in faded jeans can be seen along the top of the screen as the pencil, untouched, begins to jiggle weakly. Slow zoom out to reveal REGAN, a young African-American girl with slightly wavy hair wearing jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. Her hands are resting palms-up on her legs, her eyes closed tightly as she struggles to concentrate despite the continued thuds from somewhere off-screen. The pencil begins to rise, verrrry slowly.
DENA (O.S., as if to a military training chant): We're not afraid to stand and fight! (Thud!) We cast out demons left and right! (Thud!)
The camera pulls back still further to reveal DENA behind her, a somewhat older girl with dark blond hair tied back as she punches a bag dangling from the ceiling; a few sweaty strands have escaped and hang limply. She's wearing a light brown tank top and shorts, as well as ear buds connected to the CD player clipped to her belt.
DENA (chanting): We're strong in battle, strong in prayer! (Thud!) We tell Satan "Get outta here!" (Thud!)
This last sentence is somewhat louder, and the pencil clatters to the floor as REGAN's concentration breaks.
DENA (chanting): Sound--
REGAN leaps to her feet, spinning to face DENA with her fists clenched, and dodges between her and the punching bag to snatch the buds from DENA's ears.
REGAN (angrily): D'you mind? How'm I supposed to concentrate with you shouting at the top of your lungs?
DENA (just as mad): Who said you were supposed to? I'm doing something useful--training--while you're calling up demons over there. Don't know what you got Called for, 'cause it's pretty much wasted on you.
REGAN: Why? Because I don't like to fight? Demons like fighting. Gangs like fighting. Me, I've got better things to do with my time.
DENA: Yeah, well, soldiers and police don't like fighting either, but it's their job, and ours too. How 'bout you get off your butt and do it every once in a while?
REGAN winces suddenly and frowns at the door just before DENA scowls and turns toward it as well. A beat later, someone begins to knock loudly. DENA grabs a stake from a pile on an end table and stalks wordlessly toward the door, with REGAN trailing unhappily behind her.
DENA opens the door to reveal SADHA standing in a pool of light cast by the street lamps. She's a handsome, slightly plump East Indian woman in a practical blue blouse and slacks, apparently just entering middle age. SADHA raises an eyebrow calmly, sizing her up.
SADHA (lightly): Looking for two Slayers. I'd say you're one of them. Miss Greer?
DENA: That's me. And you must be tonight's vampire-with-a-death-wish.
SADHA: Actually, I'm your Watcher. Assigned by Rupert Giles himself. Mind if I come in and have a look around?
DENA (rolling her eyes): Talk to the hand.
DENA raises her right hand, its back facing SADHA rather than the front as would be usual for this gesture, and we see that she has a large blue cross tattooed on the back in a very simple, blocky design. SADHA recoils with a hiss, vamping out as she does
DENA (continuing sarcastically): Thought so. (She glances over her shoulder quickly.) Regan!
REGAN sighs unhappily and reaches to her neck to pull out a small cross on a thin chain, with a yin-yang symbol in the center. She holds it out with a grimace.
REGAN: Please just leave. I'm not in a fighting mood tonight, not even for undead mockeries of life.
SADHA (interrupting before DENA can speak): I'm not your Watcher, Regan. Just hers. I think I prefer the two of you address me as Ms. Kaur, for the moment, but aside from that I can forgive a little rudeness...given the circumstances. All the same, you will accept my authority.
DENA (with a snort): I've met Mr. Giles. Didn't like him much, and he didn't like me, but I'll believe he assigned a vampire as anyone's Watcher when hell freezes over.
DENA waves the stake in her left hand.
REGAN (uncertainly): Ms. Kaur...you really ought to go. Maybe we can talk about this later when--
DENA (looking over her shoulder): Talk? Hah! You invite her in, and I'll leave you to her. Nobody gets in here but our real Watchers, so till they show up you can--
SADHA's right hand crosses the threshold and slams DENA roughly against the door, knocking the stake from her hand. She strides in, shoving REGAN aside, and walks over to lean against a slightly ragged armchair.
SADHA: Thank you. Now we can discuss the matter like civilized people.
THEME PLAYS; CREDITS ROLL
In this farewell
There's no blood
There's no alibi
Cause I've drawn regret
From the truth
Of a thousand lies
So let mercy come
And wash away
What I've done
I'll face myself
To cross out what I've become
Erase myself
And let go of what I've done
Theme: "What I've Done," Linkin Park
Starring:
Aishwarya Rai as Sadha Kaur
Ellen Muth as Dena Greer
Erica Hubbard as Regan Stacey
Roy Dotrice as Roger Wyndham-Price
Ivana Baquero as Solita Munoz
and Seth Green as Daniel "Oz" Osbourne
Guest starring:
Callum Blue as Ravensdale
ACT I
INT. RENTAL HOUSE--MAIN ROOM
DENA scoops up another stake from the end table in a smooth motion, advancing on SADHA, who continues to lean casually against the armchair.
DENA: I take back what I said about Mr. Giles. He's an idiot.
SADHA: Hmm. Well, I'd say you were fairly quick on the uptake, yourself, except that no one would say that about Rupert Giles unless she were a complete fool.
DENA swings at SADHA; the blow is competently executed, but SADHA dodges it easily so that DENA's fist makes a dent in the wall. SADHA shrugs and attempts to sweep DENA's feet out from under her with a kick; DENA stumbles but manages to stay upright.
REGAN: You two are ruining the vibes in this house, you know that? I'll be cleansing the place for a month.
DENA: Quit kibitzing and get over here! I think this one's not gonna be easy.
SADHA drives her fist into DENA's stomach, but DENA shrugs off the blow.
SADHA (drily amused and totally unconcerned): You think not? Buffy Summers had difficulty fighting me.
DENA attempts to plant a right cross on SADHA's jaw, but SADHA catches her hand without much trouble. Smoke rises from where she's touching DENA's tattoo.
SADHA (continued): And, despite this clever little trick, you're a cheap imitation...nothing more.
SADHA begins to squeeze, shoving DENA backwards to the floor as she does. Suddenly she spins halfway around to block REGAN's blow.
SADHA (continued): Weak, Regan...very weak. Do you train at all?
REGAN (determinedly): I'm not a violent person. But for things like you...
REGAN yanks the punching bag loose from its ceiling bracket with a crunch and whacks SADHA with it.
REGAN (continued): I make an exception.
SADHA staggers backwards, stumbling over DENA, who has just gotten to her feet, and knocking her back down.
SADHA: All right...innovative. I suppose I've seen worse technique. On occasion.
DENA pulls SADHA down on top of her and knees her in the back. SADHA attempts to leap to her feet, but REGAN has arrived with a stake, and SADHA has to roll off to one side instead. DENA rolls forward and up, now standing next to REGAN as she looks around for a weapon to use. She grabs REGAN's stake out of her hand.
DENA: Give me that. You'll poke your eye out.
REGAN turns away toward the outside door, where DENA dropped her stake earlier.
SADHA: One of these days, you two will have to learn to work together. You're doing very poorly at it so far.
SADHA slams her forehead into DENA's face, causing DENA to stagger backwards, dazed.
SADHA (continued): I don't suppose either of you has noticed yet that I have a soul? Regan's files say her intuition is particularly acute.
REGAN has retrieved the stake and is approaching SADHA on the opposite side from DENA.
REGAN (irritably): I've noticed. As far as I'm concerned, you're just that much more unnatural.
SADHA: Well. That will make this all the more difficult, I suppose. It's a good thing you're not mine. And you, Dena?
DENA swings her stake at SADHA, who leaps backward (away from both girls) and out of the way.
DENA (snarling): I don't compromise with demons. I slay them.
SADHA: Ah, yes...so do I.
SADHA seizes DENA's wrist and slams it against the wall, breaking her grip on the stake.
SADHA (continued): So if I cast out demons by the power of demons...by whose power do you cast them out?
For the first time, DENA wavers uncertainly. SADHA takes advantage by using her hold to swing her into REGAN; both girls retain their footing, but only just.
SADHA (continued): And if I cast out demons by the power of demons, then Satan's kingdom is divided against itself...and has an end.
DENA (standing in front of REGAN as if to hold her back, nervous): You've done your homework.
SADHA: True. Does it matter? I can quote scripture to my purpose...but do you have any idea what purpose that is? Perhaps we share a goal.
REGAN shoots DENA a distrustful look and tries to get around her.
SADHA (continued): An end. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Well, so would I.
DENA (disbelieving): You want to die?
REGAN seizes DENA's arm.
REGAN (shocked): Don't tell me you're thinking of trusting her.
DENA (shaking her off): Not an inch.
SADHA: I'm willing to die for what I care about. Aren't you? What's more important to you, anyway? Killing one vampire, this instant? Or killing more of us, because you have help? Because you've been properly trained? You have choices I've lost, Dena. Be certain you make the right ones while you can.
DENA is clearly wavering; REGAN tries to get past her again and takes an elbow in the gut for her trouble.
DENA (uncomfortably): I like this a lot less than you, Regan. But she's making sense. We can dust her any time. She makes a wrong move, we kill her. We'll have another Watcher around soon; if we really have to we can all sleep in shifts.
REGAN (angry now): She's dead, Dena. She's a thing. I can feel her. She grates on my nerves just being in the same room. It can't be that different for you, not to mention your demon phobia.
DENA: It isn't. But that's the difference between us. It doesn't matter what I like. What I'm supposed to do...that's what matters. Put the stake down. And we'll...
She glances at SADHA, whose expression is carefully blank.
DENA (continued): ...talk.
REGAN (with a sigh): Fine. Just don't expect me to stay in the same room with her the whole time.
DENA: I can manage without you.
SADHA (smiling thinly): I'm surprised. I didn't expect you to be the one to see reason.
DENA (grim): I want to see you cast out demons. Tonight.
SADHA shrugs and makes a move toward the armchair.
SADHA (lightly): Done.
DENA: I'm Chosen. My powers come from God.
SADHA (her smile quirks upward on one side): Well, then. If you're sure.
FLASHES OF the ocean, followed by an aerial of London
FLASH TO
INT. STUDY--DAY
Wide bay windows are open to the morning sunlight in this large, extravagantly furnished room; each of the other walls is lined with bookshelves. ROGER WYNDHAM-PRICE is sitting at the dark wooden desk near the back wall, with a SECOND MAN standing stiffly at attention in front of it. The SECOND MAN is thin, clean-shaven with jet-black hair, and wearing a black business suit.
ROGER (flatly): The Helm of Kasparov.
SECOND MAN: So my sources tell me.
ROGER (in a skeptical tone): In Houston, Ravensdale?
RAVENSDALE (stuffily): The Gem of Amara, the Glove of Mynhegon, the Word of Valios, and a surviving DuLac Cross--among several other things--were all found in a small town in California. Houston may not be a hellmouth, but these agglomerations of humanity can support far more demons, and often contain as many artificial supernatural phenomena. Perhaps more.
ROGER: Then you believe the renegade is on the verge of finding the Helm.
RAVENSDALE: Not in the slightest, sir.
ROGER frowns at him appraisingly.
RAVENSDALE (continued): On the contrary, it's clearly an attempt to panic you, to produce rash moves on our part. She leaked this information precisely to lure you to her. The Helm said to amplify a vampire's power of enthrallment? Even if it exists--and that is not at all certain--the information is an obvious bluff.
ROGER: Then we should call it? Do nothing?
RAVENSDALE: That sounds like an appropriate move to me.
ROGER (shaking his head): An obvious bluff, Ravensdale, and obviously meant to be called. Consider why it took over a century just to discover the renegade's existence. She is a master of elaborate plots, wheels within wheels. There is no way for us to determine whether she means for us to go or stay; this game of bluff and counterbluff can proceed without end. The only thing to do is to go to Houston and see for ourselves--but cautiously.
RAVENSDALE: By "ourselves", you mean..?
ROGER: Yes, yes...I will be going. (with a touch of impatience) That...cyborg fiasco damaged my credibility among the surviving Watchers. Quite aside from this scheme itself, it's important that I be seen and, if necessary, my identity be tested. The longer I sit here ensconced in my private residence, the less trusted I will become. All the more so given the sheer number of Slayers still lacking guidance. That sentimental fool Rupert Giles...absurd that he should be the one to end up taking charge.
RAVENSDALE: Then you'll be taking protection, I assume, sir?
ROGER gives a short nod and rises from behind the desk.
ROGER: All for the best, I'd say. (He pauses, looking out the window.) We have a veritable army on our hands, Ravensdale. After millennia of "one girl in all the world," suddenly there are thousands. Any Watcher worthy of the name would have led us to victory over the forces of darkness and put an end to this war at last. Instead...chaos. It's a disgrace. A blot on the Council's history, as bad as the First's attack or worse.
RAVENSDALE turns to go, leaving ROGER to his musings.
RAVENSDALE: I'll have your belongings prepared for travel, sir.
ROGER nods again. RAVENSDALE closes in on the camera as he leaves the room; as his face comes closer we see him assume a wry grin. Faint, ominous music sounds.
FADE TO BLACK
END OF ACT I
Disclaimer: Certain characters in this fiction belong to Joss Whedon, as does the Buffyverse setting as a whole. All original characters belong to me.
The lyrics to "God's Got an Army", including the chant in the teaser, are property of Carman.
Beta: Valyssia
Rating: PG
TEASER
EXT. STOCK FOOTAGE OF HOUSTON --NIGHT
A brief montage of aerial shots of Houston, Texas, ending with a slow pan over Rice University, a sign with its name, and, finally, a crowded row of rental houses in various states of mediocre repair.
CUT TO:
EXT. RENTAL HOUSE--NIGHT
This building is in a little better shape than the others; we can tell this because we can see two of them close by on either side. Its tan paint is mostly intact and its yard has been recently trimmed. We hear the sound of blows landing on something heavy as we
CUT TO:
INT. RENTAL HOUSE--MAIN ROOM
We're looking at a lone pencil on the floor, sitting within an arc of unlit candles. A pair of crossed legs covered in faded jeans can be seen along the top of the screen as the pencil, untouched, begins to jiggle weakly. Slow zoom out to reveal REGAN, a young African-American girl with slightly wavy hair wearing jeans and a plain grey t-shirt. Her hands are resting palms-up on her legs, her eyes closed tightly as she struggles to concentrate despite the continued thuds from somewhere off-screen. The pencil begins to rise, verrrry slowly.
DENA (O.S., as if to a military training chant): We're not afraid to stand and fight! (Thud!) We cast out demons left and right! (Thud!)
The camera pulls back still further to reveal DENA behind her, a somewhat older girl with dark blond hair tied back as she punches a bag dangling from the ceiling; a few sweaty strands have escaped and hang limply. She's wearing a light brown tank top and shorts, as well as ear buds connected to the CD player clipped to her belt.
DENA (chanting): We're strong in battle, strong in prayer! (Thud!) We tell Satan "Get outta here!" (Thud!)
This last sentence is somewhat louder, and the pencil clatters to the floor as REGAN's concentration breaks.
DENA (chanting): Sound--
REGAN leaps to her feet, spinning to face DENA with her fists clenched, and dodges between her and the punching bag to snatch the buds from DENA's ears.
REGAN (angrily): D'you mind? How'm I supposed to concentrate with you shouting at the top of your lungs?
DENA (just as mad): Who said you were supposed to? I'm doing something useful--training--while you're calling up demons over there. Don't know what you got Called for, 'cause it's pretty much wasted on you.
REGAN: Why? Because I don't like to fight? Demons like fighting. Gangs like fighting. Me, I've got better things to do with my time.
DENA: Yeah, well, soldiers and police don't like fighting either, but it's their job, and ours too. How 'bout you get off your butt and do it every once in a while?
REGAN winces suddenly and frowns at the door just before DENA scowls and turns toward it as well. A beat later, someone begins to knock loudly. DENA grabs a stake from a pile on an end table and stalks wordlessly toward the door, with REGAN trailing unhappily behind her.
DENA opens the door to reveal SADHA standing in a pool of light cast by the street lamps. She's a handsome, slightly plump East Indian woman in a practical blue blouse and slacks, apparently just entering middle age. SADHA raises an eyebrow calmly, sizing her up.
SADHA (lightly): Looking for two Slayers. I'd say you're one of them. Miss Greer?
DENA: That's me. And you must be tonight's vampire-with-a-death-wish.
SADHA: Actually, I'm your Watcher. Assigned by Rupert Giles himself. Mind if I come in and have a look around?
DENA (rolling her eyes): Talk to the hand.
DENA raises her right hand, its back facing SADHA rather than the front as would be usual for this gesture, and we see that she has a large blue cross tattooed on the back in a very simple, blocky design. SADHA recoils with a hiss, vamping out as she does
DENA (continuing sarcastically): Thought so. (She glances over her shoulder quickly.) Regan!
REGAN sighs unhappily and reaches to her neck to pull out a small cross on a thin chain, with a yin-yang symbol in the center. She holds it out with a grimace.
REGAN: Please just leave. I'm not in a fighting mood tonight, not even for undead mockeries of life.
SADHA (interrupting before DENA can speak): I'm not your Watcher, Regan. Just hers. I think I prefer the two of you address me as Ms. Kaur, for the moment, but aside from that I can forgive a little rudeness...given the circumstances. All the same, you will accept my authority.
DENA (with a snort): I've met Mr. Giles. Didn't like him much, and he didn't like me, but I'll believe he assigned a vampire as anyone's Watcher when hell freezes over.
DENA waves the stake in her left hand.
REGAN (uncertainly): Ms. Kaur...you really ought to go. Maybe we can talk about this later when--
DENA (looking over her shoulder): Talk? Hah! You invite her in, and I'll leave you to her. Nobody gets in here but our real Watchers, so till they show up you can--
SADHA's right hand crosses the threshold and slams DENA roughly against the door, knocking the stake from her hand. She strides in, shoving REGAN aside, and walks over to lean against a slightly ragged armchair.
SADHA: Thank you. Now we can discuss the matter like civilized people.
THEME PLAYS; CREDITS ROLL
In this farewell
There's no blood
There's no alibi
Cause I've drawn regret
From the truth
Of a thousand lies
So let mercy come
And wash away
What I've done
I'll face myself
To cross out what I've become
Erase myself
And let go of what I've done
Theme: "What I've Done," Linkin Park
Starring:
Aishwarya Rai as Sadha Kaur
Ellen Muth as Dena Greer
Erica Hubbard as Regan Stacey
Roy Dotrice as Roger Wyndham-Price
Ivana Baquero as Solita Munoz
and Seth Green as Daniel "Oz" Osbourne
Guest starring:
Callum Blue as Ravensdale
ACT I
INT. RENTAL HOUSE--MAIN ROOM
DENA scoops up another stake from the end table in a smooth motion, advancing on SADHA, who continues to lean casually against the armchair.
DENA: I take back what I said about Mr. Giles. He's an idiot.
SADHA: Hmm. Well, I'd say you were fairly quick on the uptake, yourself, except that no one would say that about Rupert Giles unless she were a complete fool.
DENA swings at SADHA; the blow is competently executed, but SADHA dodges it easily so that DENA's fist makes a dent in the wall. SADHA shrugs and attempts to sweep DENA's feet out from under her with a kick; DENA stumbles but manages to stay upright.
REGAN: You two are ruining the vibes in this house, you know that? I'll be cleansing the place for a month.
DENA: Quit kibitzing and get over here! I think this one's not gonna be easy.
SADHA drives her fist into DENA's stomach, but DENA shrugs off the blow.
SADHA (drily amused and totally unconcerned): You think not? Buffy Summers had difficulty fighting me.
DENA attempts to plant a right cross on SADHA's jaw, but SADHA catches her hand without much trouble. Smoke rises from where she's touching DENA's tattoo.
SADHA (continued): And, despite this clever little trick, you're a cheap imitation...nothing more.
SADHA begins to squeeze, shoving DENA backwards to the floor as she does. Suddenly she spins halfway around to block REGAN's blow.
SADHA (continued): Weak, Regan...very weak. Do you train at all?
REGAN (determinedly): I'm not a violent person. But for things like you...
REGAN yanks the punching bag loose from its ceiling bracket with a crunch and whacks SADHA with it.
REGAN (continued): I make an exception.
SADHA staggers backwards, stumbling over DENA, who has just gotten to her feet, and knocking her back down.
SADHA: All right...innovative. I suppose I've seen worse technique. On occasion.
DENA pulls SADHA down on top of her and knees her in the back. SADHA attempts to leap to her feet, but REGAN has arrived with a stake, and SADHA has to roll off to one side instead. DENA rolls forward and up, now standing next to REGAN as she looks around for a weapon to use. She grabs REGAN's stake out of her hand.
DENA: Give me that. You'll poke your eye out.
REGAN turns away toward the outside door, where DENA dropped her stake earlier.
SADHA: One of these days, you two will have to learn to work together. You're doing very poorly at it so far.
SADHA slams her forehead into DENA's face, causing DENA to stagger backwards, dazed.
SADHA (continued): I don't suppose either of you has noticed yet that I have a soul? Regan's files say her intuition is particularly acute.
REGAN has retrieved the stake and is approaching SADHA on the opposite side from DENA.
REGAN (irritably): I've noticed. As far as I'm concerned, you're just that much more unnatural.
SADHA: Well. That will make this all the more difficult, I suppose. It's a good thing you're not mine. And you, Dena?
DENA swings her stake at SADHA, who leaps backward (away from both girls) and out of the way.
DENA (snarling): I don't compromise with demons. I slay them.
SADHA: Ah, yes...so do I.
SADHA seizes DENA's wrist and slams it against the wall, breaking her grip on the stake.
SADHA (continued): So if I cast out demons by the power of demons...by whose power do you cast them out?
For the first time, DENA wavers uncertainly. SADHA takes advantage by using her hold to swing her into REGAN; both girls retain their footing, but only just.
SADHA (continued): And if I cast out demons by the power of demons, then Satan's kingdom is divided against itself...and has an end.
DENA (standing in front of REGAN as if to hold her back, nervous): You've done your homework.
SADHA: True. Does it matter? I can quote scripture to my purpose...but do you have any idea what purpose that is? Perhaps we share a goal.
REGAN shoots DENA a distrustful look and tries to get around her.
SADHA (continued): An end. You'd like that, wouldn't you? Well, so would I.
DENA (disbelieving): You want to die?
REGAN seizes DENA's arm.
REGAN (shocked): Don't tell me you're thinking of trusting her.
DENA (shaking her off): Not an inch.
SADHA: I'm willing to die for what I care about. Aren't you? What's more important to you, anyway? Killing one vampire, this instant? Or killing more of us, because you have help? Because you've been properly trained? You have choices I've lost, Dena. Be certain you make the right ones while you can.
DENA is clearly wavering; REGAN tries to get past her again and takes an elbow in the gut for her trouble.
DENA (uncomfortably): I like this a lot less than you, Regan. But she's making sense. We can dust her any time. She makes a wrong move, we kill her. We'll have another Watcher around soon; if we really have to we can all sleep in shifts.
REGAN (angry now): She's dead, Dena. She's a thing. I can feel her. She grates on my nerves just being in the same room. It can't be that different for you, not to mention your demon phobia.
DENA: It isn't. But that's the difference between us. It doesn't matter what I like. What I'm supposed to do...that's what matters. Put the stake down. And we'll...
She glances at SADHA, whose expression is carefully blank.
DENA (continued): ...talk.
REGAN (with a sigh): Fine. Just don't expect me to stay in the same room with her the whole time.
DENA: I can manage without you.
SADHA (smiling thinly): I'm surprised. I didn't expect you to be the one to see reason.
DENA (grim): I want to see you cast out demons. Tonight.
SADHA shrugs and makes a move toward the armchair.
SADHA (lightly): Done.
DENA: I'm Chosen. My powers come from God.
SADHA (her smile quirks upward on one side): Well, then. If you're sure.
FLASHES OF the ocean, followed by an aerial of London
FLASH TO
INT. STUDY--DAY
Wide bay windows are open to the morning sunlight in this large, extravagantly furnished room; each of the other walls is lined with bookshelves. ROGER WYNDHAM-PRICE is sitting at the dark wooden desk near the back wall, with a SECOND MAN standing stiffly at attention in front of it. The SECOND MAN is thin, clean-shaven with jet-black hair, and wearing a black business suit.
ROGER (flatly): The Helm of Kasparov.
SECOND MAN: So my sources tell me.
ROGER (in a skeptical tone): In Houston, Ravensdale?
RAVENSDALE (stuffily): The Gem of Amara, the Glove of Mynhegon, the Word of Valios, and a surviving DuLac Cross--among several other things--were all found in a small town in California. Houston may not be a hellmouth, but these agglomerations of humanity can support far more demons, and often contain as many artificial supernatural phenomena. Perhaps more.
ROGER: Then you believe the renegade is on the verge of finding the Helm.
RAVENSDALE: Not in the slightest, sir.
ROGER frowns at him appraisingly.
RAVENSDALE (continued): On the contrary, it's clearly an attempt to panic you, to produce rash moves on our part. She leaked this information precisely to lure you to her. The Helm said to amplify a vampire's power of enthrallment? Even if it exists--and that is not at all certain--the information is an obvious bluff.
ROGER: Then we should call it? Do nothing?
RAVENSDALE: That sounds like an appropriate move to me.
ROGER (shaking his head): An obvious bluff, Ravensdale, and obviously meant to be called. Consider why it took over a century just to discover the renegade's existence. She is a master of elaborate plots, wheels within wheels. There is no way for us to determine whether she means for us to go or stay; this game of bluff and counterbluff can proceed without end. The only thing to do is to go to Houston and see for ourselves--but cautiously.
RAVENSDALE: By "ourselves", you mean..?
ROGER: Yes, yes...I will be going. (with a touch of impatience) That...cyborg fiasco damaged my credibility among the surviving Watchers. Quite aside from this scheme itself, it's important that I be seen and, if necessary, my identity be tested. The longer I sit here ensconced in my private residence, the less trusted I will become. All the more so given the sheer number of Slayers still lacking guidance. That sentimental fool Rupert Giles...absurd that he should be the one to end up taking charge.
RAVENSDALE: Then you'll be taking protection, I assume, sir?
ROGER gives a short nod and rises from behind the desk.
ROGER: All for the best, I'd say. (He pauses, looking out the window.) We have a veritable army on our hands, Ravensdale. After millennia of "one girl in all the world," suddenly there are thousands. Any Watcher worthy of the name would have led us to victory over the forces of darkness and put an end to this war at last. Instead...chaos. It's a disgrace. A blot on the Council's history, as bad as the First's attack or worse.
RAVENSDALE turns to go, leaving ROGER to his musings.
RAVENSDALE: I'll have your belongings prepared for travel, sir.
ROGER nods again. RAVENSDALE closes in on the camera as he leaves the room; as his face comes closer we see him assume a wry grin. Faint, ominous music sounds.
FADE TO BLACK
END OF ACT I
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