The Girl In Question
(Wolfram & Hart – Lobby – Day)
(Gunn is walking through the lobby with Angel.)
Gunn: We need to act on this now.
Angel: Not without a full risk analysis. We don't want to be rushing into this thing half-cocked.
Gunn: (rolls his eyes) As opposed to the full-cock that's been working so well for us?
Angel: (stops walking; looks Gunn in the eyes; crosses his arms) You got something you want to say?
Gunn: Just don't wanna lose another baby with the bath water... boss.
Angel: Fine. We'll send Spike.
(Angel’s Office)
(Spike is sitting in a chair in Angel's office, hanging his legs over the arms of the chair, playing a handheld video game. Angel and Gunn are standing behind him, but he doesn't look up from his game.)
Spike: Bugger that. Do it yourself.
Gunn: Spike, this is a delicate matter that needs to be handled with a lot of finesse. (throws up his hands, looks at Angel) And why the hell are we talkin' to him?
Angel: Because he signed on to help.
Spike: (rolls his eyes, looks over at Angel) Not to be some glorified garbage collector.
Gunn: It's not garbage. It's a body. And there's a bloody gang war coming our way if we don't get it back.
Spike: (incredulously) This stiff's that important?
Gunn: It's the remains of the Capo di Famiglia of the Goran demon clan.
Spike: Never heard of 'em.
Gunn: That's 'cause the Capo was human-tolerant. Kept a low profile. More interested in profit than mayhem.
Angel: What happened to him?
Gunn: Died on a business trip in Italy. We need to go there, retrieve his body, and return it to his family in the next... (looks at his watch) Ooh, 26 hours.
Spike: Or what—he gets deader?
Gunn: No. He stays dead. They die, they pupate, they live again, but only if the proper rituals are performed by the immediate family. If the Capo's body isn't returned in time, the rituals won't take. So long, Capo. Hello, power vacuum.
Angel: Which the rival clans will try to fill.
Gunn: And they aren't as tolerant of humans. If we do this, it all stays cool. If not—
Angel: We'll stick with "do." (goes over to Spike, knocks his feet off the chair's arms) OK, come on. (takes Spike's video game away)
Spike: Hey, hey.
Angel: (telephone rings at his desk) Pack your bags. (walks to the desk)
Spike: I don't even speak the language.
Angel: We'll get you a book. (answers phone) Yeah?
Spike: (to Gunn) How do you say "wank off" in Italian?
Gunn: (shrugs) Can somebody please just get on a plane?
Angel: (to phone) What? (looks upset) When? (softly) Yeah. I understand. Thanks. (hangs up the phone)
Spike: (fatalistically) All right, what is it this time? Uber-vamps? Demon gods? Devil robots?
Angel: It's Buffy.
(Lobby)
(Angel storms out of his office into the lobby, followed by Gunn and Spike.)
Angel: I said I'll take care of it.
Gunn: Take care of what?
Spike: Is Buffy all right?
Angel: She will be when I get there.
Spike: What happened? What happened?!
Angel: (stops near the elevator, turns to face Spike and Gunn) The Immortal.
Gunn: The who?
Spike: (sighs) The foulest evil hell ever vomited forth.
Harmony: Worse than you?
Angel: He was spotted in Rome near Buffy's— (turns back toward the elevator)
Gunn: Wait a minute. Rome. That's where the Capo died.
Spike: Oh, wait a minute. That's definitely his M.O.
Harmony: The Capo's?
Angel: The Immortal. He whacks the Capo, lures me to Rome, takes out a slayer and a vampire with a soul.
Gunn: Plus he starts a war when the Capo's body isn't returned for resurrection. This guy's good.
Angel: So am I. Harmony, have the jet fueled and ready for takeoff. (walks purposefully toward the elevator)
Spike: (joins Angel) You really think we could take him?
Angel: Whoa, whoa. What do you mean, "we"? (presses the elevator call button)
Spike: What? You don't think I'm gonna let you traipse off to Italy without me, do you?
Angel: (the elevator dings) You don't speak the language.
Spike: I'll get a book.
(The elevator doors open and a man walks off between Angel and Spike.)
Angel: (gritting his teeth) Spike, you're only gonna make things worse. (walks onto the elevator)
Spike: (follows Angel onto the elevator) Look, we get the Capo's body, we rescue Buffy, we stop The Immortal. It's that simple. Unless he kills you, which would be sad.
Angel: He's not gonna kill me.
Spike: (smirks) Not if I'm with ya.
(The elevator doors close.)
(Private Jet)
(Angel and Spike are sitting in the cabin of the private corporate jet beside each other, but on opposite sides of the aisle.)
Angel: Just admit it: You think you're gonna ride in, save the day, and sweep Buffy off of her—
Spike: Like you're not thinking the same thing.
Angel: I'm already seeing somebody.
Spike: What, dog girl?
Angel: Nina's a werewolf, and—
Spike: Fido know her boyfriend's flying halfway around the world to visit his ex?
Angel: Hey, look, I was gonna call her, and we're just... hangin' out. She's not my girlfriend.
Spike: This rate, never will be.
Angel: Doesn't concern you, Spike.
Spike: (grins widely) I just wanna see you happy. (leans closer to Angel) Well, not too happy, 'cause then I'd have to stake ya. (sits back in his seat, then smiles) Second thought, have at it.
Angel: This isn't about us.
Spike: You and Nina?
Angel: Me and you. This is a dangerous mission that's only gonna get worse if we don't put aside our differences. Look, we have to work together on this to stop The Immortal and save Buffy. (sighs) Oh, and pick up that demon body thingy.
Spike: Partners, then?
Angel: Just like old times. You want a drink?
Spike: God, yes.
(Later)
(The little table between Angel and Spike is littered with empty miniature bottles of various sorts of alcohol. Pan over to Angel as he finishes off another one.)
Angel: (looking at the empty bottle in his hands) Huh. Really can't get drunk off these things.
Spike: (slouching in his chair, twirling an empty bottle in his hands) Not us, anyway. Vampire constitution. Not always a plus. (beat) How did you know?
Angel: Drank a lot of 'em, and I still don't like you.
Spike: (scoffs) About Buffy. How did you know she was in trouble?
Angel: I got word.
Spike: From who?
Angel: A source.
Spike: You've been spying on her?!
Angel: I just wanted to make sure she was all right.
Spike: Sending your lackeys to do your stalking for you. That is really pathetic.
Angel: All right, fine. I'm not proud of it, but it's... it's Buffy.
Spike: How many you got on her?
Angel: Uh, just the one. But he got spotted. Called me from the hospital after he regained consciousness.
Spike: You should've had more of your people watching her.
Angel: (sighs) Yeah. We'll be landing soon. (Spike sighs) Remember the last time we were in Italy?
Spike: Like it was yesterday.
(Nightclub – Night)
(Spike and Drusilla are standing together in an ultra-hip nightclub in Italy, dressed in late 1950's fashions. Spike's wearing a dark suit and matching tie and a white button-up shirt. He's also wearing clear-framed sunglasses. He has his arm wrapped around Drusilla's waist. She's wearing a short-sleeved mock turtle-neck sweater and a beret. Neither of them are smiling, but just acting cool.)
Spike: Ciao.
Italian Woman1: Ciao.
Drusilla: Ciao.
Italian Woman2: Ciao.
Spike: Ciao.
(Private Jet)
Angel: Wait a minute. I wasn't in Italy in the fifties.
Spike: Oh, right. Guess you weren't. Really missed out.
Angel: Guess so. Sounds a lot better than when I remember it.
Spike: 1894?
Angel: The room of pain.
(1894 – The Room of Pain – Night)
(Two men wearing only their underwear are hanging limply, their feet barely touching the ground. Pan over to show that one is Angelus, and the shirtless one beside him is Spike, aka William. They've been chained up by their wrists to the ceiling joist.)
Angelus: (grunts as he regains consciousness) Oh, William. (struggles to swing himself into William) Agh! Unh!
William: (when hit by Angelus, wakes) Ow! Bloody hell.
Angelus: (struggling against his restraints) Agh! Unh!
William: (looks up at his shackled wrists) That right bastard.
Angelus: The Immortal thinks he can do this to us?
William: He doesn't know who he's dealing with.
Angelus: Well, he's about to find out. (struggles against his restraints) Aagh!
William: He's gonna curse the day he ever crossed purpose with Angelus.
Angelus: And William the Bloody.
William: (both grunting as they struggle to get free) We'll see just how immortal he is when we're done with him.
Angelus: We'll carve him up like a Sunday roast and make him watch as we feast on his steaming flesh. (they both struggle to get free of their shackles, but make no headway) Yaaaagh! Aah! Unh! (gasps for breath) How you doin'?
William: Bugger.
Angelus: Arrr! (escorted by two body guards, a man walks into the room wearing a fine suit; he takes off his hat and gloves) Your master send you to do his dirty work? Ferry us to hell, then. We'll save a spot for him—next to the fire, the mangy, dung-lickin'— (slaps Angelus gently in the face with his gloves) Bit over the top there, are ya?
Man: (unshackling Angelus first, then William) His benevolence The Immortal wishes to convey his regrets at having detained you, but your recent actions against his concerns merited stiff reprimand.
William: His concerns?
Angelus: This is our city. We were here first.
Man: No, actually, he was. 300 years ago. And now he's back. You will leave this city tonight and never return under a penalty of death so swift that—
(Angelus reaches up, grabs the man's head, and twists it, breaking his neck. The man falls to the ground, and the bodyguards aim their crossbows at the vampires.)
Angelus: Go ahead. Take your best shot. I'll snatch your little wee sticks out of the air and spend the next fortnight shoving 'em slowly up your arse.
(The bodyguards lower their weapons and run away.)
William: (both laugh) Can you really do that?
Angelus: The arrow thing? I don't know. Never tried. (picks up his clothes) Aw! Look what he did to me shirt! (getting dressed)
William: "His benevolence The Immortal."
Angelus: In for a shock, he is. There's gonna be a reckoning after a good meal and a long rest in the arms of...
(Bedroom)
(Angelus is looking down at Darla, who's sprawled out naked, face-down on a bed, her hair all disheveled.)
Angelus: Darla!
William: What have they done to her?
(Wolfram & Hart – Present Day)
(Illyria stands by the bamboo plants, touching them wistfully.)
Illyria: I can no longer hear the song of the green.
(Pan over to show that Wesley and Lorne are standing nearby, watching her.)
Lorne: You think that includes me?
Wesley: Her powers have been greatly reduced. She still has an unusual level of strength, but is no longer invulnerable or able to alter time.
Illyria: You revel in my defeat.
Wesley: Is that how you view it—you've been defeated?
Illyria: My world gone. My power stripped. How would you define it?
Lorne: Uh, I don't know, how about... lucky we didn't kill you when you went nuclear?
Illyria: This fate is worse than death. Condemned to live out existence in a vessel incapable of sustaining my true glory. How am I to function with such limitation?
Lorne: (chuckles) Well, ever tried a Sea Breeze?
Illyria: You attempt amusement at the expense of your better.
Wesley: Illyria. Perhaps you should return to the lab.
Illyria: I do not bend to your wishes.
Wesley: I'm not asking you to. Merely suggesting that more tests might lead to knowledge of how to help you function.
Illyria: (glares at Wes, then turns toward the stairs) I go because it suits me. (walks upstairs)
Lorne: Whew. Ah, so too bad that whirly-jig thing didn't suck the sass out of her.
Wesley: She's overcompensating. Posturing.
Lorne: So she really wasn't gonna snap my stalk?
Wesley: Her powers are weakened, but... she's still unpredictable. Perhaps more so until she learns to adjust. (elevator bell dings behind them) We have to be careful not to agitate her.
(When the elevator doors open, Fred's parents walk off the elevator.)
Lorne: (seeing them over Wes's shoulder) Burkles!
Roger Burkle: See? I told you they would remember us.
Trish Burkle: Guess we do make an impression.
Wesley: (gruffly) Why are you here? (catches himself, and softens up) I mean, what—
Roger: Hawaii.
Trish: Been savin' up for years.
Roger: Thought we'd take a layover and surprise Fred. Uh, know where we can find her?
Wesley: (beat) Step into my office.
(While Wesley leads Fred's parents into his office, Illyria watches from the balcony upstairs.)
(Italy – Apartment – Night)
(Angel and Spike knock on an apartment door.)
Angel: Let me handle this.
Spike: Bet you'd like to.
(When the door opens, Andrew is the one who answered it. Andrew is wearing a robe over a t-shirt. His hair is disheveled.)
Andrew: (clutches his hands to his heart) Spike! O mio dio! (hugs Spike tightly) E come un sogno incantevole. (releases Spike, steps back) What are you doing here?
Angel: About to ask you the same question, Andrew.
Andrew: Buffy and Dawn are letting me crash. My casa was incinerated when that thing happened.
Spike: What thing?
Andrew: Cultural misunderstanding. (chuckles nervously) Let us speak of more pleasant times. Entrate pure. I part my threshold. (Angel and Spike just stare.) I mean, my apartment. Obviously. (Angel and Spike enter the apartment at the same time, getting stuck in the doorway; Angel wriggles free and enters first) So, um, I had plans later this evening, but I can change them if you guys wanna hang. (tries to straighten up the apartment a bit) Uh, I could show you Rome at night, a city of contrasts. Anywhere you want to go, anything you want to see.
Angel & Spike: (simultaneously) Buffy.
Andrew: Right, because you two both— (nods, crosses his arms) Yeah. She's not here.
Angel: Where'd she go?
Andrew: To meet The Immortal.
Spike: By herself?
Andrew: I told you I had plans.
Angel: When did she leave?
Andrew: Just missed her.
Spike: Then we're not too late.
Angel: Of course, it could be worse.
Andrew: You're telling me. (plops himself onto the couch) Most nights they never leave the house, just curl up on the couch and snuggle.
Angel: (frowns, hurt) There's snuggling?
Andrew: For starters. (sits up) Wait. Uh, you didn't know they were...together?
Spike: (looks at Angel) It's worse.
(1894 – Bedroom)
(Angelus and William have just discovered a limp and disheveled Darla lying naked, face-down in bed.)
Angelus: (rushes to her side) Darla. Darla! (rolls her over to look in her face) Darla! What have they done? My sweet death.
Darla: (weakly) Angelus. You're back.
Angelus: I'd claw my way back from the depths of hell to lay by your side. (pulls her into his arms for a kiss, but recoils, drops her, stands and wipes his mouth) He's tasted you.
William: Who?
Angelus: Who do ya think?
William: Well, that cheeky bastard. Had us tossed and then violates your woman.
Angelus: (to Darla) Did he hurt ya?
Darla: (writhes, smiles naughtily) Not until I asked him to. (stands, wrapped in a sheet) Oh, come on. Have you seen him? With the eyes and the chest and the... (sighs blissfully) immortality.
William: We're immortal.
Darla: (in the corner dressing, putting on a robe) Not like him. I mean, he's not some common vampire. He's—I don't know what he is. A giant. A titan straddling good and evil, serving no master but his own considerable desires.
Angelus: Darla—
Darla: And spiritual. Did you know he spent 150 years in a Tibetan monastery? Which I guess explains all the desire.
Angelus: He's my arch-nemesis.
Darla: Darling. It was just fornication. (chuckles) Really great fornication.
William: (steps in for a closer look at Darla) She's glowing, mate.
Angelus: (brushing him off) She isn't.
Darla: (nods) Little bit.
William: (to Angelus) Best fit you for a pair of antlers. Been made the right cuckold, you have.
Drusilla: (steps out from the next room wearing a lacy negligee) Time for another pony ride?
William: (sees Drusilla, gasps) Son of a bitch!
Angelus: (points from Darla to Drusilla) The both of ya?
Darla: (shrugs, giggles) He's insatiable.
William: Drusilla, you—you let him touch you?
Drusilla: (closes her eyes and holds up her arms, remembering) He felt like sunshine.
William: (shaking his head) Uh, no. No.
Angelus: That's why he had us tossed. So he could violate—
Darla: He didn't—
Angelus: Violate our women!
William: (points angrily) Violate in succession!
Darla: Concurrently.
Angelus: Concurrently? (frowns) You never let us do that.
Darla: (touches Drusilla's hand, talks into her ear) Come on, Dru. Let's have a bath so the boys can weep in private.
Drusilla: Will you hold me under the water?
Darla: If you wish.
(The women walk into the next room giggling.)
Angelus: Rrrrarrgh! (throws a vase against the wall, shattering it) This is a slight that will not go unmet.
William: Death's too quick.
Angelus: Not all deaths are quick.
William: What do you have in mind?
Angelus: I think it's time The Immortal found out exactly who he's dealing with. I think it's time for blood vengeance.
(Party)
(Angelus and William, dressed in their dirty, ripped clothes, speak to the bouncer at the door to an elegant party. The bouncer is searching his list.)
Angelus: Blood vengeance. I'm sure we're on the list. Is there anything under blood vengeance?
Bouncer: No. No blood vengeance. Sorry.
William: Maybe it's under Angelus.
Bouncer: You're not on The Immortal's list.
Angelus: (to William) Ah, you know what? To hell with the list. (with Spike, he charges toward the bouncer, but a magical force field bounces them back) Augh!
Bouncer: (referring to his list) You're not in here. You're not going in there. Piss off!
(Angelus and William walk away slowly, looking back over their shoulder at the party they can't enter.)
Angelus: He mocks us at every turn.
William: Yeah, the man has no sense of indecency. You remember Frankfurt? He hatches the Rathruhn egg personally and just decides to give those nuns safe passage.
Angelus: Those were my nuns!
William: Yeah. Nuns are your thing. Everybody knows that. They respect it. They respect us.
Angelus: We are the reason men fear the night. This isn't over yet, Immortal! This'll never be over!
(Present Day – Italy – Demon Parlor – Night)
(Angel and Spike wait in the parlor of a fancy house.)
Spike: It's over. Just like that. Not that I thought I had a chance anyway.
Angel: At least I have a girlfriend.
Spike: (shrugs) Still.
Angel: (defeated) Yeah.
(A creepy demon guy watches them as they wait in the parlor. The demon has long, pointed ears sticking out of his cheeks. His skin is gray and uneven. His nose is long. He's wearing his hair in a tacky, greasy comb-over. Otherwise, he's dressed like a normal person, wearing a tuxedo.)
Spike: (incensed) The Immortal?!
Angel: I mean, come on!
Spike: She's smarter than that.
Angel: She'd never fall for a centuries-old guy with a dark past who may or may not be evil.
Spike: (points) She's under some kind of spell.
Angel: I was just thinking that.
Spike: We're gonna pick up the Capo's body...
Angel: Find The Immortal, and break his whammy.
(A female demon of the same kind as the one wearing the tux and watching them walks into the room carrying a bowling ball bag.)
Demon Maid: (puts the bag on the table nearest to Angel and Spike) Grazie, Signor Angelo. We are in your debt for attending to a delicate matter. Grazie, grazie.
Angel: (nervously, points to the bag) Um, this is the, uh, Capo di Famiglia of the Goran demon clan?
Demon Maid: Si, si. The Capo di Famiglia.
Spike: Must've been a wee fella.
Angel: (unzips the bag, looks inside) This is just his head.
Demon Maid: Si, si. The Capo di Famiglia.
Spike: What happened to the rest of him?
Demon Maid: When a Goran demon becomes heavy with the age, his head-a sag and drop off like a ripe-a fig. Heh.
Angel: So his new body just hatches out of it?
Demon Maid: If the rituals are performed by the family in time. You must-a get the head of the Capo to Los Angeles subito. Eh? Si?
Angel: Si. Subito.
(Angel grabs up the bag in a hurry, and he and Spike rush out.)
(Buffy’s Apartment)
(There's a knock on the apartment door. Andrew answers it holding the cordless phone to his shoulder and wearing a pore-cleansing strip on his nose.)
Angel: Is Buffy home yet?
Andrew: You guys, it's only 8:30.
Angel: Right.
Spike: Yeah.
Angel: Do you know where they went?
(Wolfram & Hart – Day)
(Roger and Trish Burkle walk into Wesley's office and look around, admiring it.)
Roger: Gotta say this is a step up from where you boys used to hang your hat.
Trish: Ooh, a couple of steps.
Wesley: (closes the office door) Yes, we—
Roger: Uh, you know, we didn't wanna say anything, but we were a little worried about that old hotel.
Trish: Seemed a little run-down.
Roger: But Fred called it home, so we just kept our mouths shut.
Trish: Girl reaches a certain age, she's earned the right to make her own decisions.
Roger: Which with Fred was around 7, wasn't it?
(Mrs. Burkle laughs.)
Wesley: Mr. and Mrs. Burkle—
Trish: Please.
Roger: Roger and Trish.
Trish: The way she goes on about y'all, well, it feels like we're practically family.
Roger: So where is that prodigal daughter—out saving the world with that nice Angel fella?
Wesley: Roger, Trish. There's something you need to know. (takes a deep breath) Fred—
Fred: Mom?
(Fred is standing in the doorway to Wesley's office, looking very human and normal.)
Roger: Well! There she is now.
Fred: Dad! Oh, my God. What are y'all doing here? (runs to hug her parents)
Roger: Sweetie.
Trish: Sight for sore eyes.
Roger: Oh, you look great!
(Wesley stares incredulously.)
(Italy – Night Club – Night)
(In a night club, dance music plays loudly as Spike and Angel make their way through the crowd toward the bar.)
Angel: Dancing. Why'd it have to be dancing?
Spike: (to the sexy female bartender) You speak English, luv?
Bartender: Si, si. I love the English.
Spike: We'll get along fine, then.
Angel: We're looking for a girl. American. Blond hair. Blue eyes.
Bartender: Many blond American coeducationals. Spring break? The girls, they go wild.
Angel: No, no. We-we're looking for a friend of ours.
Spike: She's in trouble. This ponce called The Immortal is—
Bartender: Ah, si. Si. The Immortal's new ragazza. They come, while ago. (gestures to the crowd) There. (Angel and Spike turn to look; a blonde is dancing in the middle of the crowd.) Your friend maybe go a little wild, too, si?
Spike: Right. Hold down the fort. I'll be right back. (walks away toward the dancing crowd)
Angel: Huh? (follows Spike) Oh, yeah, here it comes. The part where you run off alone and play the big hero so Buffy'll take you back. Well, newsflash, blondie bear: Never gonna happen.
Spike: Look! I know I don't have a shot with her, all right? Probably never did, but I still care about her, and I'm not gonna let her end up with a jerk like The Immortal. Or you.
Angel: Hey, ours is a forever love.
Spike: (scoffs) I had a relationship with her, too.
Angel: OK, sleeping together is not a relationship.
Spike: It is if you do it enough times.
Angel: Spike.
Spike: What?
Angel: The head.
Spike: I thought you had it. (they look back at the bar to see the butler from the house where they picked up the head carrying the bag away) Hey! (chases the butler; puts his hand on the butler's shoulder) Where you think you're going with our head, Jeeves?
Man: Anywhere he wants.
(Angel and Spike turn to see several large, bulky muscle-men standing behind them.)
Angel: Don't suppose we can talk about this over a nice amaretto?
(One of the men punches Angel. The fight is shown in slow motion while the song "Take Me in Your Arms" sung by Dean Martin plays over the scene. A man punches Angel, and he staggers back. Spike jumps the man, knocking him down. Angel engages another man, punching him, while Spike kicks the man he tackled before. They continue to fight, exchanging punches. Angel grabs the man he's fighting and throws him headfirst into the wall. Spike punches his man in the face, shattering a display at the bar. Angel walks toward Spike, but Spike punches him in the face. When Spike stands and looks at whom he punched, he realizes it's Angel. Angel looks at Spike, wondering why he would hit him. Angel rubs his jaw, then gets an angry look on his face before returning Spike's punch. Spike looks angrily at Angel, and they both rear back to swing, punching each other in the face. The scene plays at regular speed now.)
Angel: (getting up from the floor) What the hell are you doing?
Spike: (yelling) I was confused, ya git! It's very loud in here.
Angel: Where'd the little guy go?
(Angel and Spike look around and see the butler walking out the door with their head. The butler sees them and gestures with his fingertips off of his chin before exiting the club. Spike and Angel rush after him.)
(Outside)
(Spike and Angel walk out of the club and look around, but there's no sign of the butler.)
Spike: Where'd he go?
(A car screeches as it rushes past them, nearly running them down.)
Angel: (scrambles back to his feet) Hey! (watches the car drive away) That's our car. He's got our car.
(Spike grabs a nearby motor scooter, starts it, and revs the engine.)
Spike: (pulls the bike up to Angel) Hop on, little mama.
Angel: I'm not ridin' on the back.
Spike: He's getting away!
(Angel steps over the bike, sits behind Spike, and puts his arms around Spike's waist. They drive off after the car on the motor scooter. The car speeds through the streets of the old city. Angel and Spike aren't too far behind.)
Angel: Faster! Come on, punch it!
Spike: Stop holding on so tight.
(The butler drives the car down an alley and the tires screech. A random person pulls out in front of him on a motor scooter, and the butler has to swerve to miss him. Angel and Spike almost catch up to him, when he turns a corner.)
Angel: Shortcut. Turn right.
Spike: Let go of me.
Angel: Turn left, turn left. We'll cut him off.
Spike: All right, already!
(Spike and Angel have headed the butler off and are now facing him head on. The butler pauses a moment, then drives the car into their motor scooter, knocking them off and destroying the scooter. )
Spike: Son of a— (angry muttering)
Angel: (kicks the debris) One job, you know. Hang onto the head. That's it.
Spike: You were right there, too.
Angel: I wasn't in charge of the head.
Spike: Well, it's gone now, isn't it? You gonna stand here in the strada yelling at me all night?
Angel: Did you just say strada?
Spike: It means street.
Angel: Yeah. I know what it means.
Spike: We only have 12 hours to get that head back before Los Angeles becomes a demon war zone. Should we argue some more, or should we get on with it?
Angel: Ah, all right. You know, you're right. No more screwing around. We find that guy, we get the head back, and then we get the hell outta here. That's it.
(Dance Club)
(Angel and Spike are back at the dance club talking to the bartender.)
Angel: Have you seen the blond girl?
Spike: Buffy. Her name is Buffy.
Angel: She was just dancing with The Immortal.
Spike: Are they still here? Did they leave?
Bartender: Relax-a, relax. It's OK.
Spike: They're still here?
Bartender: No, no. They're gone. But you must relax. I pour you some wine.
Angel: Oh, he's got her, Spike. He's got Buffy. Why is this always happening to us?
Spike: It's him. The Immortal. This is what he does. Every time he shows up, I either lose my girl, get beaten by an angry mob, or get thrown in prison for tax evasion. (Angel gives him a look.) Long story.
Angel: Well, you know what? It's different now. We're different.
Spike: Hey, damn right we are. We're not gonna be his Shemps anymore.
Angel: No way, man. I mean, we're just out of our element.
Spike: If this was L.A., We'd have him hog-tied by now.
Angel: If we had our resources, if we had our team, if we had our helicopters or—he'd be in a world of—
Spike: Hang on. Doesn't Wolfram & Hart have an office here in Rome?
(Wolfram & Hart – Rome Office)
(The elevator bell dings and Angel and Spike step off the elevator into a lobby that looks identical to the L.A. branch's lobby.)
Angel: (looking around) Huh.
(The office is busy at night, full of people chatting away in Italian. A woman walks through the lobby toward them. She's wearing a low-cut, tight, slinky sundress.)
Woman: (talking in a very animated way) Ciao! Benvenuti! Welcome! Ah, Spike. (kisses Spike on both cheeks) Ha ha ha. Oh! You are the very meaning of handsome. You take my breath away. Ah, I have no breath. Ha ha ha! (kisses Angel on both cheeks) And you, what an honor. The great Angelus.
Angel: Actually, it's just Angel.
Woman: Ah, yes, of course. The gypsies, they gave you your soul. The gypsies are filthy people! (spits) And we shall speak of them no more. I am Ilona Costa Bianchi. I'm the CEO of the Roman offices of Wolfram e Hart. And please, we are at your disposal. Whatever it is that you want, we give to you. If you want the world, we give you the world. We give you 2 worlds, in fact, because this is our way.
Angel: OK.
Spike: Good. Yeah.
Woman/Ilona: Now, let's go in my office, and we talk like adults, eh? Come. (turns toward her office) Pietro.
Pietro: (sitting at the receptionist's desk) Si, signora.
Ilona: (speaking Italian rapidly) Vai un circare un caffe e dolce qual checosa di mangiare.
Pietro: Per chino, signora. Andiamo. Subito.
Spike: (Angel and Spike hesitate to follow her, but do) She seems nice.
(Wolfram & Hart - LA Office – Science Lab – Day)
(Fred escorts her father into the science lab. Fred's mom is behind them, holding onto Wesley's arm.)
Roger: I gotta tell ya. Everyone is so dang friendly. I can't get over it.
Fred: Well, they kinda have to be, daddy. I'm their boss. If they're mean to you, I'll just fire 'em.
Trish: Have we not seen each other since I ran over that bug demon with the bus? How is that even possible?
Wesley: Things have been a bit hectic these last couple...years.
Trish: Well, I want to hear absolutely everything, but most importantly, have you got a young lady in your life?
Fred: Mom!
Trish: What? I was just asking. Well, can I help it if there's a perfect gentleman hiding in plain sight of my single daughter?
Fred: Dad, make her stop.
Roger: Knock it off, big mouth.
Trish: (to Wesley) He keeps talking to me like that, I'm gonna keep you for myself.
Roger: Uh, is this whole laboratory yours, honey?
Fred: Well, technically, it's the company's, but... yeah. I'm in charge of it. Wanna see my office?
Roger: That's it up there? (to Trish) Come on, baby.
Trish: Well!
Wesley: (grabs Fred's arm, whispers angrily) What the hell are you doing?
Fred: Visiting with my folks.
Wesley: Illyria—
Illyria as Fred: (in a lower voice, as Illyria) Your grief hangs off of you like rotted flesh. I couldn't tolerate it from them as well. I thought this would be more convenient.
Wesley: How's it possible?
Illyria as Fred: (in a lower voice, as Illyria) It's a simple modulation of my form. I appear as I choose. (cocks her head, looks closely at Wesley) Do you wish me to stop?
Trish: (steps out of the office) Sweetie, you have got to do a better job decorating. This office is as bare as a bone. (notices the tension between "Fred" and Wesley, puts her hands on her hips) Is everything OK?
Wesley: Everything's fine.
Illyria as Fred: (chipper, as Fred) Absotively.
(Wolfram & Hart – Rome Office – Ilona’s Office – Night)
(Ilona's office is where Angel's would be, but it's decorated very differently. There are lots of paintings of religious and secular material that appear to have been created by masters of the Italian renaissance and baroque periods. Pietro lights a cigarette for Ilona, and she smokes it through a long detachable filter.)
Ilona: Please, make yourselves as though you were at home. Your problems, they are no more. You have no more problems. (shrugs, chuckles) What are your problems?
Angel: Our friend, she's under some sort of spell...
Spike: Cast by the vilest wretch this side of Mount Everest. Which... I'm told he has climbed... several times.
Angel: Look, he goes by the name of The Immortal.
Ilona: Ah, The Immortal. Ah. Then your friend is lucky. Ha ha. I have had dealings with The Immortal many times, and I must say that the outcome is always... most satisfactory.
Spike: He's got her trapped.
Angel: It's a love spell, and we—
Ilona: It's doubtful. The Immortal doesn't use spells. He considers them dirty. Dirty tricks for dirty people. Like gypsies. (spits) We will speak of them no more.
Spike: Well, he's done something magic to her.
Angel: We need to do some research. Look, don't you guys have, like, an Italian Wesley here?
Ilona: Yes. Yes, we have, but he's taking a nap. And I do not need him to tell me what is already widely known, that The Immortal does not use magic.
Spike: Then it must be somethin' else.
Angel: Look, we need to know everything there is to know about him. We need—
Ilona: To keep your head. Ha ha! Yes. We know all about your mission to retrieve the Capo di Famiglia. And I have to say, right now it seems a bit more important than trying to pry your friend off of The Immortal. Your head is in great danger. (walks to her desk) We have already received a ransom note. It was addressed to you via our offices. (unfolds a piece of paper) I took the liberty of sneaking a peek. (hands the paper to Angel, who seems annoyed) We must hurry because the drop is about to take place in less than one hour.
Angel: All right. We're gonna need a chase helicopter, assault team...
Spike: And guns. Lots and lots of guns.
Ilona: No, no, no, no! No, no. (squeezes their cheeks) The two of you are so precious. But no! This is a civilized country. We do these things all the time. Somebody gets kidnapped, somebody pays the money. Everybody goes home happy. Grazie. Prego. Kiss-kiss. We already have the money ready to go. (gestures to Pietro, who opens a briefcase full of Euros) Eh. Huh?
Angel: (Angel and Spike look at each other and sigh) All right. Fine. Whatever. We'll do it your way.
Spike: (sighs) Who's making the drop?
(Street)
(Angel and Spike are standing in the middle of a piazza at night, waiting.)
Angel: I helped save the world, you know.
Spike: Like I haven't.
Angel: Yeah, but I've done it a lot more.
Spike: Oh, please.
Angel: I closed the Hellmouth.
Spike: I've done that.
Angel: Yeah, you wore a necklace. You know, I helped kill the mayor and, uh, and Jasmine and—
Spike: Do those really count as savin' the world?
Angel: I stopped Acathla. That saved the world.
Spike: Buffy ran you through with a sword.
Angel: Yeah, but I made her do it. I signaled her with my eyes.
Spike: She killed you. I helped her! (points) That one counts as mine.
Angel: My point is I'm better than this. OK? We're better than this. What the hell could Buffy see in him?
Demon Butler: (stepping out of a nearby car, speaking in an Italian accent) Perhaps she likes the cut of his trousers.
(Other men get out of the car after the Butler. They surround Angel and Spike.)
(Wolfram & Hart – LA Office – Lobby – Day)
(Roger Burkle presses the down button to call the elevator. Trish is standing with him. They turn to face Wesley and Fred. )
Trish: Sorry to just drop in on you like this unannounced.
Illyria as Fred: Are you kidding me? I'm just sad y'all can't stay longer.
Roger: Well, the beach is callin'.
Trish: Wesley. You take care of our little Fred for us. OK?
Wesley: Of course.
Trish: (hugs Fred) Ohhh. I miss you already, and we haven't even gone yet. (sighs, looks her in the face) You sure you're OK? You seem different somehow.
Roger: Oh, she's just growin' up, mother. Let her go. You're gonna embarrass her in front of her employees.
Illyria as Fred: Stop it, daddy, and come here. Give me a hug. (hugs them both) I love you guys so much.
Trish: Oh, we love you, too.
Roger: We'll talk soon. OK?
Illyria as Fred: Countin' on it.
(Wesley and "Fred" wave good-bye as Fred's parents get on the elevator.)
Wesley: Did you get what you needed from that experience?
Illyria as Fred: (in a low voice, as Illyria) Yes. It was most informative.
Wesley: Good. Don't ever do it again. (walks to his office)
(Illyria glares at him as he leaves.)
(Italy – Street – Night)
(The demon's cronies are in a circle surrounding Angel and Spike. The demon butler circles the two of them, talking, holding the bowling ball bag that the head's in.)
Demon Butler: You must be so lonely. Your girlfriend has become lovers with The Immortal. How unfortunate for you. And how fortunate for her.
Angel: (scoffs) You know The Immortal?
Demon Butler: But of course.
Angel: Ha! I knew it. None of this is a coincidence.
Spike: Been his plan all along. Steal our head, keep us busy, and traipse off with my girl. (Angel gives him a look) Our girl.
Angel: It's a setup. You're just his lackey.
Demon Butler: I should be so lucky. The Immortal does not need men like me to do his business. He is a wild card, a wolf removed from the pack, a stallion without, uh, the bridle.
Spike: (sarcastically) What, are you in love with him?
Demon Butler: No, no, no, no. Well, OK, yes. But if anything, he's more of a, uh, inspiration, a spiritual guide. Have you read his book? It's a life changer.
Angel: (whispers to Spike) I'm gettin' a little tired of Italy.
Spike: Know what you mean.
(Angel and Spike start fighting the men surrounding them.)
Demon Butler: Oh, look. The Americans are relying on violence to solve their problems. What a surprise. (as the fight ensues, the demon throws the bag into the air) Whoo!
(Angel tries to keep his eye on the bag, but another man catches it and swings the bag at Angel, hitting him in the face. The men keep playing a massive game of "keep away" with the bag, throwing it through the air to someone else anytime Angel or Spike get close to it.)
Demon Butler: (catches the bag) OK. No more games! (pulls out a gun and aims it at the bag) (everyone stops fighting, but then Angel elbows a man behind him, getting in one final blow) One more step, and the head gets it, hey? We are not animals. We are italiano. You give us the money, we give you the head. (Angel and Spike don't move; they just stare) You give us the money, we give you the head. (Angel and Spike stare) The money, the head. The money—
Angel: Yeah. We get it. (hits Spike) Money.
(Spike gets the money and walks toward the demon.)
Spike: (holds out the money, but pulls it back) Hey. (they switch bags at the same time)
Demon Butler: Arrivederci, americanos. It was a pleasure to do the business with you. (chuckles; he and his men leave)
Spike: Don't believe him for a second. The Immortal's neck-deep in all of this.
Angel: 'Course he is. He's screwin' us. He's screwed us before, and he's screwin' us now.
Spike: Yeah. Every time we hear his bleeding name, we end up standin' in the strada holdin' the bag.
(Spike unzips the bag to look inside, and instead of the head, a ticking bomb is inside, counting down in seconds from 0:05 — 0:04 — 0:03 — 0:02 — 0:01.)
(Time Lapse)
(Angel and Spike are looking around at the fiery debris from the explosion that litters the street.)
Spike: Civilized country? Look what that squeaker did to my jacket.
Angel: After everything we've been through, you're pissed about a jacket.
Spike: No, not a jacket. My jacket. You have no idea what I went through to get this.
Angel: You stripped it off a body of a dead slayer.
Spike: Well, which gives it great sentimental value. Besides, I've been wearin' it for over 30 years. It's like a part of me.
Angel: Get over it. Buy a new one.
Spike: It's my second skin. It's who I am. It's just one more thing he's taken away that I'll never get back.
(Wolfram & Hart – Rome Office – Ilona’s Office)
(Ilona helps Spike put on a new black leather duster just like his old one.)
Spike: (admiring the new coat) Yeah! This is good.
Ilona: (petting Spike's shoulders and chest) I'm glad you like, because I sent another 10 of them to Los Angeles for you along with a fine assortment of shoes.
(Angel walks in wearing a waist-length white, red, and black leather motorcycle jacket. He's not quite as pleased with it as Spike is with his.)
Ilona: (gasps) You! Guarda! Come sei bello! Sei bellissimo! (speaks Italian) Bellissimo! You look gorgeous! Oh!
Angel: You know, I'm not sure this is me.
Ilona: No, no, no, no, no. This is the latest style. You will define handsome for years to come. Ha ha ha! Now, what happened to the drop? No grazie, prego, kiss-kiss?
Angel: Grazie, prego, ka-boom.
Ilona: Ohh! Oh, they always do this to first-timers in this country. Did I not mention that?
Angel: (unzips his jacket angrily) That's it. Call up the helicopters.
Spike: And the assault team.
Angel: We're gettin' our head back.
Ilona: No, no, no. I love the two of you so much, but brute force will only get your precious head smooshed. You have done such fine quality work. (escorts them to the door) Now, please, relax. Let us handle it from here. (walks them out of her office) Sometimes you have to put your fate in a higher power.
Angel: We're heroes. We don't need any higher power.
Ilona: I'll be in touch. (closes the doors to her office)
Angel: We make our own fate. (the doors click shut) We don't need anybody cleaning up our mess. You know, we're champions! (Spike pounds on the door; Angel tries to open it, but it's locked) Got this under control. (pounding on door) You know, we're just gonna— We're— (leans against the door and sighs) Should we just go home?
Spike: (sighs) Oh, God, yes. (they walk to the elevators) Couldn't get me out of this rat hole of a country fast enough.
(Buffy’s Apartment)
(Andrew opens the apartment door once again to see Angel and Spike standing there.)
Angel: Is Buffy back yet?
Andrew: (his hair is wet and he's wearing a bathrobe, holding a towel) Sorry. Not yet. You guys can hang if you want. I'm just heading out. (Angel and Spike walk in; turns to Angel) Oh. Hey. Nice jacket.
Angel: (closes the door behind him) It's the latest style.
Spike: Andrew. Has Buffy been acting off? Like The Immortal's got her under a spell of sorts?
Andrew: Excellent question. No. (walks back to the bathroom, off screen)
Angel: Could it be mind control?
Spike: Or a love potion? Did she drink a love potion?
Andrew: (os) Dude, seriously, I thought of all those things, but turns out Buffy fell for The Immortal on her own, and—and now she's happy. That's it.
Angel: But she's not finished baking yet. (ranting) I gotta wait till she's done baking, you know, till she finds herself, 'cause that's the drill. Fine. I'm waitin' patiently, and meanwhile, The Immortal's eatin' cookie dough! (sighs, sits)
Andrew: (os) Uh, Spike, is Angel crying?
Spike: (defensively) No! (looks at Angel, who's holding his head in his hands, rubbing his eyes) Not yet.
Andrew: (os) May want to hold the waterworks, big guy. The Immortal's cool and all, but he ain't all that. He's got his flaws.
Angel: (stands) Really?
Spike: Wh-what are they?
Andrew: (os) (sighs, exasperated) Ohhh. The point is she's moving on. You guys do the same, and you might catch her one day. One of you, anyway. But you keep running in place, you're gonna find she's long gone.
Spike: (to Angel) It is a bit silly. Us... chasin' around like a couple of henpecked teenagers.
Andrew: (os) Buffy loves both of you, but she's gotta live her life. People change. (Andrew walks out from the bathroom, now wearing a tuxedo and a sophisticated hairstyle.) You guys should try it sometime. (there's a knock on door; answers it to find two beautiful women on the other side) Ah, Caprice, se bella come la notte. (kisses the blonde on both cheeks) E tu, Isabella... (kisses the brunette on both cheeks) superi perfino le stelle. (turns to Angel and Spike) Ciao. (exits and closes the door)
Spike: Well... maybe it's time we—
Angel: Yeah.
(They leave.)
(Wolfram & Hart – LA Office – Wesley’s Office – Night)
(Wesley is sitting at his desk, staring off into space when Illyria walks in still dressed up as Fred.)
Illyria as Fred: (in Fred's voice) Wes? Are you, like... mad at me or something?
Wesley: Stop it.
Illyria as Fred: (in Illyria's voice) Isn't it what you desire? (in Fred's voice) I mean... you love me, I love you. What's the big deal?
Wesley: I loved her.
Illyria as Fred: (in Illyria's voice) You loved this. And part of you still does. I can feel it in you. (walks closer to Wesley) I... wish to explore it further.
Wesley: (stands, faces her) Never. You... like this. It sickens me.
Illyria as Fred: (in Fred's voice) Oh, lord. We both know that ain't true. (smiles, walks closer to him)
Wesley: (leans away) Stop it! (avoids looking at her) Change back. Be blue. Be anything. Don't be her. (walks toward the door) Don't ever be her. (walks out)
(Illyria leans her head back, transforms back into Illyria's blue form.)
Illyria: As you wish.
(Lobby – Day)
(Gunn signs a document on a clipboard as Angel and Spike walk off the elevator.)
Gunn: (to the assistant) Thanks.
Angel: Gunn. We lost the head. Start preparing the troops for war.
Gunn: Head's in your office.
Angel: What?
Gunn: It's on your desk.
(Gunn walks away.)
(Angel’s Office)
(The bowling ball bag containing the head is sitting on Angel's desk with a little folded note tied to it with ribbon. Angel and Spike walk up to it. Angel pulls the note out of its envelope and reads it.)
Angel: "With regards, The Immortal." (angrily rips the note into tiny shreds) You know, I really hate that guy!
Spike: What's Buffy thinking? H-honestly?
Angel: She doesn't exactly have the best taste in men. Case in point. (looks at Spike)
Spike: H-hey! I think I turned out all right.
Angel: Yeah. Once she got through with you.
Spike: I wasn't the one livin' in alleys, rubbin' rat filth all over my face. If we're talkin' projects, you're the Sistine Chapel.
Angel: I wasn't a project.
Spike: Well, neither was I. (Angel sighs, sits on the edge of his desk) Can't we just... lock her away in a box where no one can ever touch her? You know? Like we did with Pavayne?
Angel: (crosses his arms, thinks a moment) I don't think she'd let us. Uh, she's pretty strong.
Spike: We could do a spell. Some sort of mind control.
Angel: Oh, she'd figure it out. You know, she's pretty smart.
Spike: Yeah. (sighs, sits on the edge of the desk by Angel) So, what? We just have to live with it? Get on with our lives?
Angel: 'Fraid so.
Spike: (sighs) Fine. (sniffles) No problem. I was plannin' on doin' that anyway.
Angel: Yeah, me, too.
Spike: Actually, I'm doin' it right now. As we speak, I'm movin' on.
(The camera pans out to a wider shot.)
Angel: Movin' on.
Spike: Oh, yeah.
(The camera pans out to an even wider shot of Angel and Spike sitting next to each other in the big, empty office.)
Angel: Right now.
Spike: Movin'.
(Fade to black.)
Season Five Guide