Watchers – The Virtual Series

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (1/5F)

DISCLAIMER: Based on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel," by Joss Whedon; based on "Watchers" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters and "Restoration" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters and Chris Cook. Used here strictly for non-commercial purposes.

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1 and a story I wrote called "Balloon Payments."

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT:

SUMMARY: The reincarnations of Warren Meers (now Lesley Warren Meers) and "his" mother have infiltrated the Council as a prelude to concluding their Century old vendetta against the Rosenberg family. Meanwhile, the Senior Partners have learned that Angel is still alive—and they have decided it is worth destroying the world to get him. Now the reincarnations of his friends and enemies are taking sides . . .

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (1/5F)

TEASER

Fade in.

2130, Beverly Hills

Ext., A run down residential neighborhood, night.

The swimming pools were empty—and clearly had been for decades.

Rats lay everywhere, dying of hunger. Fleas abandoned the sinking rodents.

A frightened looking demon ran from something or someone. He was very wrinkled and had floppy ears. He might have appeared comical to some.

He tripped over a dead rat. He got up, sighed, "Such a waste of food," and kept running.

Until he ran into a pack of teenagers. The pack was co-ed and of mixed race. The pack was also well armed—with knives, machetes, stakes, crude clubs.

"Oh. Darn. Um, I don’t suppose you would help a demon?"

The pack advanced—until a lightening bolt slammed into the center of the group and knocked them flat.

The floppy eared demon looked around and saw what looked like a human being.

He was tall and handsome and bald and African American.

"Stun glove?" Clem asked.

Then he noticed.

The black man’s hands were bare. "Gimme one good reason I shouldn’t kill you, corpse eater."

"There’s 100 Mohra demons headed this way and I think they’re in a bad mood?"

"Reason enough." The black man looked at the unconscious pack.

"I hate to defend thugs, but—"

"They’re human, so you gotta. I guess I gotta stay, too. It’s my fault you gotta protect them."

"Most demons usually don’t care for humans."

"I knew some good ones, a long time ago." Clem looked over his shoulder. "Listen, um, I need your help. You gotta hide me until I can get passage to Cleveland."

"What’s in Cleveland?"

"Maybe the only people who can save the world."

"From?"

"I didn’t come all the way from the United Kingdom to spy on Mohras for fun. I’m actually kind of a coward."

The sound of marching and singing (in a demonic language) made both demon and man freeze.

"100 you said?"

"I guessed. I didn’t stop to count them. I think I’d be dead now if I had."

The footsteps of the marchers grew louder.

"That sounds like a lot more than 100 to me." The black man looked at the unconscious street thugs. "Mohras attack champions, which these kids ain’t never been. We’ll have to leave ’em and hope the Mohras stick to tradition. Best come

with me. My friends won’t let you in their place, but I got a couple hideaways around here." He extended his hand.

"Um, no offense—"

"I can control the electricity thing," he said. "My great grandmother stole a machine that let’s me control the current."

Clem hesitated another moment, then shook the man’s hand. "Clem," he said.

"Charles Gunn III," the black man said.

Cut to:

Int., Conference Room 7, Watcher’s Council, Night.

Cut to:

A holographic projection hovering above a simple-looking table. The image projected: That of the man Gunn and the demon Clem, shaking hands.

Seated at the table were Councilor Sebastian Giles, Col. Jocasta Rosenberg, Slayer Katherine Allison and Director of Research Lexington Harris.

"That visrec [translation: visual holographic recording] was made hours ago by a Council Force Recon Unit—just before they were exterminated by the very Mohra demons that the demon Clem was fleeing."

Lexington Harris raised his hand. "Sir, why am I here?"

Sebastian Giles said: "I believe we may need a defense against Mr. Gunn’s powers."

"It’s obviously magic—he’s not using a stunner glove, so it isn’t a technological problem. You need the sorcerer’s apprentice here." He pointed toward Jocasta, then frowned. "No offense."

Jocasta glared at him, but something about her manner suggested she wasn’t really offended. "Sure, engineers just love mystics."

"It’s just that we don’t like things we don’t understand and instead of learning, we complain. Just the same way mystics whine about technology and technicians."

Jocasta smiled at him. Harris sat up straighter. Katherine, who sat between them, whispered: "She’s my girl."

Harris blushed.

Giles coughed. "I believe Mr. Gunn is a genetic mutant. He claims, in fact, to be a direct descendent of an illicit liaison between a legendary mutant/thief named Gwen and one of the mythical heroes of Angel Investigations."

Harris snorted. "Sure."

"Whatever the truth, we need to be prepared. It is unclear just which side, if any side, Mr. Gunn serves."

Harris crossed his arms. "Well, he’s friendly with a demon so I’d say he’s evil."

Giles frowned. "For a scientist, sir, you seem very quick to reach conclusions without benefit of research. That demon is well known to the Council. Clem is nearly 3,000 years old—"

"Explains the wrinkles."

Giles glared at him. "I don’t normally enjoy pulling rank—"

"I won’t interrupt again, sir."

"Good. As I was saying, Clem is nearly 3,000 years old. He was at one time an informer for the New Council. Indeed, he knew the original . . . I believe the called themselves the Scabby Gang?"

"Scooby Gang," Jocasta said.

"I stand corrected. He knew the founders of our Council and provided information on demonic activities until the Watchers first began addressing one another by military rank. According to our surviving records, he said: ‘If Buffy were alive, she would scrunch the Council as she scrunched the First.’ He has been spotted every decade or so since then, but he has refused to speak or work with any agent of the Council."

Harris frowned. "What kind of demon says, ‘scrunch’?"

"Sounds like something Willowgram would say," Jocasta said.

Katherine said: "But Clem told Gunn he wants to get to Cleveland."

Giles nodded. "That is what frightens me. That—and the fact that Mohra demons have gathered in force in Beverly Hills of all Godforsaken places." From the way he said "Beverly Hills," he seemed to be implying a desperately poor area of the world. "The Mohra are solitary assassins—hired only to hunt and kill the very best warriors. They do not gather in groups, they do not stage marching drills. I believe Clem may be correct. The survival of the world may be at stake."

Cut to:

Int., Council foyer.

A cute brunette stood at the counter looking bored—bored-to-tears bored—but she stood at attention and stared straight ahead. She counted to five, then turned her head left. She counted to five again, then turned her head right. She counted to five and started straight ahead. Again and again, she repeated the ritual.

Her uniform was clearly labeled: LW Meers, Slayer Academy Cadet #187.

A petite blonde strode through the entrance. She wore civilian clothes. Her shoes made hard clicking sounds on the floor. She moved through the foyer with a regal, nearly imperious, air. She walked straight to the cadet, who was facing left.

The brunette looked nervous, but continued counting.

The blonde smiled and said: "I understand you are permitted to speak only when you are looking directly at me."

". . . four, one-thousand-and-five." She turned to face the visitor. "Ma’am! How may I assist you, Ma’am!"

"My name is Janna Kalderash," the blonde said. "I have an appointment with Mr. Giles."

"Councilor Giles is in a meeting, Ma’am, I don’t—"

"Tell him I will wait 15 minutes beyond our scheduled appointment and then take my business to Enemy Management, Inc."

"Ma’am, I can’t tell a superior—"

"I apologize, Miss, I apparently didn’t identify myself. I am Janna Kalderash, CEO of Kalderash Translation Services International. I make more money in a day than your Council makes in a year. Mr. Giles will speak with me or he will lose

a very important customer."

Before the brunette could answer, the ground shook violently.

Janna Kalderash snapped: "Call for help! I’ll look for wounded!" She quickly snatched off her pumps and ran, barefoot, toward the doors. As if driven by an instinct much older than herself.

Cut to:

Ext., the empty lake bed near the Council Headquarters.

A sign at the edge of the lake said it had been "Drained by International Water Rationing Conglomerate on Nov. 9, 2041. Authorization: United Nations Resolution #456789—A4B4—W."

A meteor struck the Earth—and shook it violently.

No human could have survived the impact.

But something that looked human crawled out of the wreckage.

She was slim, petite, pretty, brunette and her clothes were long out of fashion.

In a Texas accent, she looked around and said: "This won’t do."

In the distance, she saw a blonde figure running her way.

She morphed back into the blue-haired, leather-clad form of Illyria—her figure had not changed since 2004—and Illryia ran up the walls of the former lake before anyone could see her.

To be continued in Act One, Part One

(Pretend you hear the intro music to RESTORATION . . . )

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (2A/5)

DISCLAIMER: Based on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel," created by Joss Whedon; based on "Watchers" and "Restoration" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters and Chris Cook.

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: Flashbacks are taken directly from transcripts of actual BTVS and Angel episodes.

To prevent much confusion, I need to explain something right now.

In this "Restoration" fan fic, Buffy has been reincarnated as a member of the Kalderash clan, the Gypsy clan that cursed Angel in the first place. Trust me, there’s a reason.

SUMMARY: The reincarnations of Warren Meers (now Lesley Warren Meers) and "his" mother have infiltrated the Slayer line to continue their old vendetta against the Rosenberg family. Meanwhile, the Senior Partners have learned that Angel is still alive—and they have decided it is worth destroying the world to get him. Now the reincarnations of old friends and enemies are taking sides . . .

CAST:

David Boreneaz as Angel

Jessica Alba as Lesley Warren Meers

Lena Olin as Lady Maxine Elizabeth Meers

J. August Richards as Charles Gunn III

Amy Acker as Illyira/Fred

Joss Whedon as Evelyn Ssoj III

Special Guest Star: Sarah Michelle Geller as Janna Kalderash . . .

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (2A/5)

Act One, Part One

Scene One

FADE IN

Ext., Watcher’s Council Tower.

Cut to:

Int., Office of Councilor Sebastian Giles.

Giles handed a glass of tea to the pretty little blonde. Despite her rumpled, sooty and sweaty appearance, she seemed poised—and confident.

"I do apologize, Ms. Kalderash—"

"I prefer the title of miss, Mr. Giles, and you owe me no apologies. You are not responsible for every meteor that strikes the Earth." She sipped her tea. "You have excellent taste."

"You flatter me." Giles sat behind his desk. "Still, a prospective client should not be asked to participate in Search and Rescue operations."

"I acted on impulse. I’m afraid it is one of my flaws," Janna Kalderash said. "I believe it comes from my cadja blood."

"Cadja?"

"Non-gypsy. In the early 21^st century the leaders of my clan ordered one of my ancestors to find and seduce a man named Hank Summers. It was part of a very stupid plan to wreck vengeance on a friend of the woman who cursed us to lose the capacity to speak our own language. Ironically, we developed a small talent for translating all cadja languages—and thus the curse made us rich." The blonde woman sipped her tea. "I suppose we owe the damned Witch and her Slayer thanks."

Giles frowned. "You mentioned a Hank Summers? That name seems vaguely familiar."

"He was the ne’er do well father of Buffy Summers herself."

Giles frowned. "All existing records state that there are no living female descendents of Buffy Summers."

"Well, strictly speaking, I’m of the Kalderash bloodline—and I am not a direct descendent of That Slayer herself. Also, the Kalderash try to keep their names out of government and public records. The Nazis persecuted Gypsies just as they persecuted the Jews and the homosexuals. We will never again be sent to death camps. To escape that fate, I think my family would make an alliance with Angelus himself."

"You . . . you may be the last living kin of the greatest Slayer of all time."

"Don’t remind me! Buffy Summers is not . . . respected among the Rom. Some of my cousins would not play with me because one of my ancestors was fathered by her father."

"Why ever not?"

"You do know about her . . . unnatural relationship with the vampire Angelus."

"Angelus is a myth."

"My God! You really don’t know, do you?"

"Know what?"

Janna leaned forward. "Angelus was no myth. He lived."

"And the legend of his soul—"

"Also true. In fact, I imagine that almost every story you may have heard about him is true—except one."

"He is still alive, isn’t he?"

"I want him found—and quickly dusted—before the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart find out."

"How certain are you that Angelus is still alive?"

"Angel, actually," said Janna Kalderash.

"The difference being?" Giles asked.

"Angelus is a typical vampire. Angel, on the other hand, suffered genuine guilt and shame—and anger and loneliness. We Kalderash created him by restoring his human soul—so that soul would forever suffer."

"But now you want him dead."

"My family wants him to suffer, either on Earth or in Hell. I simply want him gone. While Angelus and my Rom elders might derive satisfaction from making their victims suffer, Angel and I are pragmatic souls. There is no profit in cruelty."

"You speak of him with something akin to respect."

"I have come to know him very well these last few months."

Giles leaned back in his chair. "You never answered my question. How certain are you that Angel lives?"

"I’ve been dreaming about him since my 25^th birthday." Janna smiled. "My dreams tend to be prophetic."

"And what happened in your dreams?"

"He ran across a sunlit field to rescue me—and a Dragon incinerated the world to kill him."

Scene Two

Cut to:

Ext., New York Office, Wolfram & Hart.

Cut to:

Int., lobby of Wolfram & Hart.

She strolled in wearing her "Fred" persona. But something was different. 126 years earlier, her entrance did not draw attention. In 2130, everyone in the lobby stopped to gawk at the oddly dressed girl.

"It appears they honor my memory in their choice of attire," Illyria said to herself. "Very well."

She morphed into her familiar blue appearance.

Cut to:

Ext., New York Office, Wolfram & Hart.

"Fred," drenched in blood, went into the street and merged with the pedestrian crowd.

Cut to:

Int., lobby of Wolfram & Hart.

Bodies both whole and dismembered were scattered all about.

Cut to:

Ext., Watcher’s Council Tower

Cadet Meers rubbed lipstick off the corner of James Wells mouth and thanked him for his thoughtfulness. Then she slipped into his private office and closed the door.

Anyabot glared at him with arms crossed over her chest. "You could be fired for that. Kissing a cadet! You never kissed me!"

"I kiss organic women, not synthetic," James said. "Besides, we didn’t do anything wrong."

"It certainly sounded like you did something wrong."

James blushed. "We made noise?"

"I believe the sounds are called orgasms."

Cut to:

Int., James Wells’ office.

Cadet Meers looked at the screen. On the vis-screen was her mother.

"Yes, daughter?"

"I saw her. Janna Kalderash."

"And?"

"She looks just like that old photograph of Buffy Summers."

"If there’s the slightest danger That Slayer is back again—"

Lesley Warren Meers shook her head. "No way. The Council would’ve drafted her to work for them when she was a kid if she had any Slayer in her. Just like they took custody of me from you and dad. No, I don’t think this incarnate is a Slayer."

"But you think she’s the Witch’s friend?"

"Beats me, mom. But she goes by Kalderash, so something really strange is happening in this life. Maybe we can finally get them to destroy each other."

"That would be nice," Lady Meers said. "Let’s put off our plan to kill the Rosenberg whore until we are sure. The last time we rushed—"

"Our lives were cut short and they lived to pass on their genes, yadda, yadda, yadda," Lesley Warren Meers said. "I’m getting so tired of killing Willow Rosenberg every generation."

"Just remember that one day the Senior Partners will find a way to lift the curse."

"I better go, mom. That Wells creep is gonna want his private line back soon."

"What have you got against him? He seems cute to me."

"The creep crushed on me when we were both men—I was really hoping I wouldn’t run into him this incarnation. But for some damned reason I always do."

"Good thing, too," said Lady Meers. "He seems easy enough for you to seduce."

The female incarnation of Warren Meers rolled her eyes. "You trying to make me throw up, mom?"

Scene Three

Cut to:

Int., Col. Jocasta Rosenberg’s office.

A light flickered a moment, then a fuzzy holograph of a human female appeared. She might have been a twin of Jocasta, but for the different hairstyle and the outdated attire.

"Hi, Jocasta."

"Morning, Willowgram."

"So, what’s the Big Bad this time?"

"Big Bad?"

"Monster of the Week?"

Jocasta sighed. "Do you have to be so . . . slangy when you talk?"

The hologram smiled. "Ours was a slangy age."

"Well, thank the Goddess I didn’t live in that time."

Willowgram frowned. "I thought you were my reincarnation."

Jocasta suddenly seemed ill-at-ease. "Could we talk about Mohra demons?"

"What about them?"

"Did Buffy Summers ever fight them? Did you or Giles?"

"Accessing. . . . Cross-referencing . . . . Oh! Buffy didn’t fight one, but she saw one killed. She went to Los Angeles to tell Angel how mad she was that he came to Sunnydale to protect her . . . and while they were talking, a Mohra came into the office and Angel killed it. Buffy came home."

"Was it attacking Buffy?"

The hologram shrugged. "Dunno. Accessing. I think it meant to attack Angel."

"I thought Mohra demons only attacked Champions."

"Angel was a Champion. Not as great a champion as my Buffy, but a Champion still."

"Um . . . what can you tell me about him?"

"The Mohra? Angel killed him."

"I meant Angel."

"He could be real sweet when he had a soul. Total poop when he didn’t."

Cut to:

Int., Research & Development Lab, Watcher’s Council.

Lexington Harris stared at a holographic projection of a Mohra’s head.

Livia Hansen strode into the lab—and stopped to gape at the hologram.

"What the hell is that?"

"A Mohra demon."

"I’ve heard of them, but I’ve never seen one."

"They’re supposed to be hired killers," Lexington said. "If you see one, someone’s put a price on your head."

"Well now I’m insulted."

"Insulted?"

"All the demons I’ve killed and no one’s put a price on my head for it? I call that an insult."

"You are an original," Harris said. "I’ve been doing research on these things."

"And?"

"The research is a little vague—damned prophets preferred poetry to a simple, declarative sentence—but I think it’ll die if you shatter this third eye." He pointed to a jewel in the forehead of the beast.

"Any idea what can shatter it?"

"Not a clue," Harris said. "I’m trying to think of a way to kill several thousand of these things at once."

"Why?"

"There’s an army of them in California."

"Any idea why?"

"Just between us?" Lexington asked. "I think they’re gearing up to attack the Council head on."

Cut to:

Ext., Council Hangar Bay.

Antonia Allister was inspecting a Council assault transport when Katherine entered.

"Morning, future in-law," Antonia said.

Katherine blushed. "Jocasta wanted me to get one of those ready." She nodded toward the transport.

"I hadn’t heard about a major operation."

"Black operation," Katherine said. "Locate, contact, and extract."

"This craft is not exactly intended for subtle operations."

"We’re looking for a demon who’s living in a Mohra infested zone—Beverly Hills."

Antonia sighed. "I shoulda guessed the demons would gather in communities that can’t afford to pay us."

"Dumb policy," Katherine said. "Enemy Management has always managed to keep just outside the bankruptcy courts by serving the poorest neighborhoods. They don’t make much profit—but there are so many poor in the world—"

"I know," Antonia said. "So what’s the plan?"

"I don’t think they have one yet. For one thing, they gotta find a demon named Clem."

Antonia spun around. She looked worried. "Clem?"

"Yeah. That name mean something to you?"

"Oh. My. God."

Cut to:

Ext., Seattle office Enemy Management, Inc.

Cut to:

Int., office of Evelyn Ssoj III.

Cut to:

A holographic projection hovering above a simple-looking table. The image projected: That of the man Gunn and the demon Clem, shaking hands.

"Discontinue," Ssoj said. The holographic image disappeared.

He sat opposite two others, whose backs were to the door. Facing him, it was impossible to see their faces.

"Does the Council suspect anything?" He turned to face the woman seated directly opposite him.

Lady Maxine Meers shrugged. "My daughter is only a cadet. She doesn’t know much."

"A sorry quisling you are," he said. But he smiled. "Do you really think the Slayer has come back in this life—as a Kalderash?"

"I think we should find out."

"Fair enough." Ssoj looked at the being seated next to her. "Did the Recon team transmit any information about their attackers?"

"It is possible," said the Mohra demon. "But none lived and none living know of our alliance."

"Keep it that way," Ssoj said. "Kill every Mohra who worked on seizing this data."

"That will require additional fees."

"Women or salt?"

"Two women and 100 pounds of salt for each of my kind I must kill."

Ssoj smiled. "That’s a reasonable price."

"I am a mercenary, not a highway robber," said the Mohra demon.

To be continued in Act One, Part two

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (2B/5F)

DISCLAIMER: Based on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel," created by Joss Whedon; based on "Watchers" and "Restoration" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters and Chris Cook.

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: The "dream" sequence in Scene Four is taken from the ATS: Season 1 episode "I Will Remember You," as transcribed at the Buffyworld.com website.

CAST:

David Boreneaz as Angel

Jessica Alba as Lesley Warren Meers

Lena Olin as Lady Maxine Elizabeth Meers

J. August Richards as Charles Gunn III

Amy Acker as Illyira/Fred

Joss Whedon as Evelyn Ssoj III

Special Guest Star: Sarah Michelle Geller as Janna Kalderash . . .

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (2B/5F)

Act One, Part Two

Scene Four

FADE IN

Angel: "The Oracles are giving us back the day, turning back time, so I can kill Mohra before his blood makes me mortal."

Buffy: "When?"

Angel looks over at the clock (it's 9:00): "Another minute."

Buffy crying: "A minute? No. No, it's not enough time!"

Angel: "We don't have a choice. It's done."

Buffy: "How am I supposed to go on with my life knowing what we had? What we could have had?"

Angel: "You won't. No one will know but me."

Buffy: "Everything we did."

Angel: "It never happened."

Buffy shakes her head: "It did. It did. I know it did! (Puts her hand on his heart) I felt your heart beat."

Angel: "Buffy.."

They kiss. Buffy looks over at the clock. The minute is almost up.

Buffy: "No! Oh God. It's not enough time."

Angel is crying too now: "Shh, please. Please."

The hold each other tightly both crying.

Angel: "Please, please."

Buffy: "No. I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget. I'll never forget."

White flash dissolves to Angel's office the previous day. Angel is leaning against his desk blinking, looking around. Buffy is standing next to the door.

Buffy: "So, then let's just stick to the plan. Keep our distance until a lot of time has passed, and given enough time - we should be able to."

Angel stares at her and swallows hard: "Forget."

Buffy: "Yeah. - So - I'm gonna go - start forgetting."

The Mohra crashes through the window behind Angel with a scream. Angel just turns, grabs the clock from his desk and coolly smashes the Mohra's jewel with it. The Mohra goes up in a flash of light.

Cut to:

Int., a bedroom in the Watcher’s Council VIP Guest Quarters, night.

Janna Kalderash sat up in bed. Tears rolled down her face.

"You stupid, undead bastard."

She got out of bed and went into the bathroom.

Cut to:

Int., bathroom.

Cut to:

Bathroom floor.

White panties and bra dropped to the floor.

Steam quickly filled the bathroom as the shower ran.

Scene Five

Cut to:

Arial shot, Beverly Hills badlands, night.

Cut to:

A park.

The street lighting had stopped working decades ago. The grass had died years ago. A few bedraggled trees remained.

50 Mohra demons surrounded one large, knarled tree—defending it against at least three times as many more Mohra demons.

The larger group of demons attacked the smaller group. Blades flashed. Bellies were ripped open. Heads severed. Limbs amputated.

After the defenders had decimated the ranks of the attackers, they joined the losing side and the surviving victors replaced the defenders.

Cut to:

Rooftop overlooking the scene.

Clem and Gunn lay side by side, watching the carnage below.

"What are they doing?" Clem asked.

"Rehearsing," Gunn said. "That’s why they wanted this area cleansed. They didn’t want anyone reporting on this."

"I was afraid of that. It means what we thought it might mean."

"Care to explain?"

"You ever hear of the Deeper Well?"

"Nope."

"You ever hear that demons once ruled the Earth, then they were mostly wiped out and humans took over?"

Gunn nodded, but never took his eyes off the dress-rehearsal-war below.

Clem said: "The bodies of the Old Ones are buried in the Deeper Well. If they’re rehearsing an attack on it—"

"They wanna resurrect the Old Ones and make humanity extinct."

"Either that, or they’ve identified the Guardian. It means the same thing, either way. The Watchers have to be warned."

"I’m not a big fan of the Council, Clem. They’ve had me arrested for killing demons without a license. Just like those AMA creeps had me arrested for practicing medicine without a license that time I gave an old lady the Heimlich maneuver."

"Hey, I haven’t been friendly with the Council for a long, long time, Mr. Gunn—longer than you’ve been alive. But they are the only ones who stand a chance of stopping this before anyone gets near the Deeper Well."

"Can’t this Guardian take them?"

"Maybe," Clem said. "But those guys are mercenaries. Whoever hired them—"

Gunn nodded. "Now I get it. They could hire someone else."

"We gotta word to the Council."

"Maybe we should grab one first, try to get something out of them."

Clem looked at him and smiled sadly. "You are so young."

Gunn clearly took the remark as an insult. "Meaning?"

"Front line troops almost never have any useful Intel—because they’re the ones who are most likely to be captured."

Gunn said: "OK, we go to Cleveland—but how? Most of the fast transports are pretty damned expensive."

Cut to:

Ext., a house in the woods, somewhere in the United States.

A young man, handsome if slightly androgynous, stepped out of the doorway and looked around.

He whispered softly, "Come out, come out, where ever you are."

A Mohra demon dropped silently between the young man and the house. The demon landed on its feet.

The young man spun around and slammed a small rock into the red jewel in his forehead.

A flash of light—then nothing but the young man and the surrounding woods.

"Third in three days. Can’t be a coincidence."

He went inside the house and into his bedroom. A blonde woman, at least a decade his senior, slept. He kissed her sleeping forehead. "Sorry, love, but I gotta go." She didn’t stir, but continued sleeping.

He went into the bathroom and opened an old-fashioned medicine cabinet. In it was a vile of glowing green fluid.

"The blood of a Mohra demon shall heal all flesh that walks."

Cut to:

Ext., New York skyline, night.

Cut to:

Int., suite of offices. Sign on door: Kalderash International.

The office was dimly lit.

A pale man with very little hair and a thin mustache sat at his desk. A holographic nameplate said his name was J. Kalderash. Someone else sat before his desk, hidden in shadow.

"You are certain she has gone to th-them?" Mr. Kalderash said.

"Yes," Sean Rayne said. "I’m afraid your daughter has taken a very private family matter to my former employers."

"She’s insane!"

"No, but if you have her declared mentally unfit you can stop her before Angel is saved."

The office door opened. A woman backed into the room carrying a tray. She was slim with long, straight, dark hair. "Coffee, Mr. Kalderash?" Her accent was distinctive.

"Thank you," Mr. Kalderash said.

The woman placed the serving tray on the edge of his desk.

"And you, sir?" the woman asked as she turned to face the former Watcher.

Sean Rayne smiled and said: "Two sugars and a little cream, please."

The pale woman filled his order and handed Sean his cup. "Delighted to serve you, sir."

Kalderash looked at the pale woman. "I owe you an apology. I thought you mad when you told me that Angel still lived."

"Technically, sir, Angel is undead—as am I."

Said Drusilla.

Scene Six

Cut to:

Int., Slayer Advanced Training Holographic Facility Number Nine.

Livia Hansen was fighting a holographic Mohra demon.

"Livia, may I speak with you?"

"Save and deactivate," she said.

The hologram vanished.

She turned to Sebastian Giles. "Yes, sir!"

"I want you to escort our guest for the duration of her stay."

"You want me to baby sit some trust fund brat?"

"Miss Kalderash is many things, but . . . did you hear what she did when that meteor landed?"

"Heard? Hell, sir, I saw it. She was fast and commanding like she was an Old Slayer. But she couldn’t be—"

"Don’t be certain. Tyrell’s followers were not above taking bribes from affluent families to quote-unquote: ‘determine the status of a suspected Slayer as not valid’."

"Only way they could fund illegal operations without anyone noticing a lotta funds not going where they were supposed to."

"Using half the internal security budget for 314 redux was also an effective tactic," Giles said. "As for Miss Kalderash, untrained Slayer or not, I believe she should be watched. She has made no secret of the fact that her family hates the Rosenbergs."

"Rosenberg as in Col. Jocasta Rosenberg?"

"According to our historical records, the Kalderash participated in the kidnapping and protracted torture of Willow Rosenberg at the dawn of the previous century. Our records also show that every single Rosenberg since that time has died violently. I suspect a feud—a blood feud—and I am not certain Miss Kalderash can be trusted."

"But she’s here."

"She claims that a vampire with a soul walks this Earth—and has been targeted by the Senior Partners of Wolfram & Hart. If that is true—"

"You better talk to Toni, boss. I get the feelin’ she knows something about this. I mentioned this demon Clem to her, she went white. And I don’t get the feeling Clem is famous for inspiring terror."

Giles chuckled. "No, not really."

"What about the Beverly Hills thing?"

"Katherine and a few others will go and stage a diversionary attack on the Mohra. With luck, perhaps Jocasta can cast a simple location spell and extract Clem before the Mohra know he is in the area."

"What about the human with him?"

"It is unfortunate, and unfair, but I have arranged to have him arrested. He hunts demons without a proper license and on that pretext we can have the Los Angeles Police Corporation locate him and transport him here at far lower cost than if we do it ourselves."

Cut to:

Ext., hallway outside Janna Kalderash’s room in guest wing of Council Tower.

Livia positioned herself near a corner where two corridors intersected. She leaned against a wall, arms crossed, looking alert—but not the least bit happy with her assignment.

The apartment door opened and Janna Kalderash, dressed in dark blue shirt and slacks, stepped into the hall.

Livia ducked out of sight and peered around the corner.

Janna moved swiftly in the opposite direction.

Livia followed.

Cut to:

Arial shot, Cleveland, night.

Cut to:

Poorly lit street.

A vampire chased a young girl into an abandoned building.

An arrow penetrated his chest and he burst into a cloud of dust.

Lady Maxine Meers stood there with a crossbow in her hands and a smile on her lips.

The young girl rushed to her, sobbing, "Thank you, thank you," over and over again.

Mrs. Meers reloaded the crossbow and shot the young girl in the chest.

As the girl lay dying, Mrs. Meers knelt beside her. "I offer this innocent life to the Senior Partners as a token of my family’s loyalty to you."

Cut to:

Another street, very well lit.

Four Council skimmers passed one another. Affluent neighborhoods are always more heavily patrolled. The fact they have a lower rate of criminal or demonic activity never seems to strike anyone as odd.

One skimmer slowed near a park. The green, lush place was surrounded by a lasfence [laser fence]. A part of the fence automatically deactivated as the skimmer came to a halt. A man and a woman, both clad in Council uniforms, got out.

A blurred movement tackled the woman first, snapping her neck like a twig, then the blurred movement disappeared.

The Watcher looked around, frightened and angry and disoriented.

Another blur. The Watcher’s neck also snapped like a twig.

Illyria knelt beside the two corpses. She removed Council insignia from the dead woman’s uniform and attached the insignia in the proper places of her now black leather outfit.

"I know a place where you will feed harmless carrion eaters," Illyria said.

She sounded almost apologetic.

It is unlikely her two murder victims would have cared for her apology.

Cut to:

Int., Sebastian Giles’ office.

Giles was looking at a monitor screen, frowning.

Jocasta’s voice said: "Giles? Jocasta. You better come down here. And grab James Wells. We may need his help. Willowgram can’t access some of her own diary files—a little left over gift from the idiots who used to run this place."

FADE OUT.

To be continued in Act One, Part Three

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (2C/5F)

DISCLAIMER: Based on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel," created by Joss Whedon; based on "Watchers" and "Restoration" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters and Chris Cook.

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT:

CAST:

David Boreneaz as Angel

Jessica Alba as Lesley Warren Meers

Lena Olin as Lady Maxine Elizabeth Meers

J. August Richards as Charles Gunn III

Amy Acker as Illyira/Fred

Joss Whedon as Evelyn Ssoj III

Special Guest Star: Sarah Michelle Geller as Janna Kalderash . . .

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (2C/5F)

Act One, Part Three

Scene Seven

Fade In:
Int., Watchers Council Main Conference Room

Toni Allister looked very nervous as she stepped into the conference room.

The stern looks she got from four of the five people standing before her suggested her nervousness was appropriate to the occasion.

Giles, Jocasta, Katherine, Lexington and James Wells all stood before her in a semi-circle. All five stood straight, their hands behind their backs.

Toni Allister swallowed. She looked at Giles. "I take it, Councilor, that you are contemplating bringing formal charges of misconduct against me?"

Giles said: "Not yet, but I wanted to impress upon you how displeased I would be if you did not answer our questions."

"This is about Clem, isn’t it?"

Jocasta, Katherine and Lexington exchanged glances. Giles simply nodded.

Toni held up a trembling hand. It held an ancient book. Some of the pages were clearly loose. Time had been unkind to the book.

"This is a diary that has been passed down from mother to daughter for generations. My mother told me not to tell anyone what it said unless I thought it would prevent an apocalypse. Her mother told her the same thing and—"

"Bored now," Jocasta said.

Everyone stared at her.

She smiled shyly. "Sorry. I’ve been talking to Willowgram so much, I’ve picked up some of her expressions."

Katherine sighed. "It is very strange, being in a triangle with your girlfriend’s holographic doppelganger."

Toni said: "I better read what the diary says." She turned nervously to the page she wanted. She ignored a few pages that fluttered to the floor. Lexington Harris stepped forward to pick them up, but Giles stopped him with a wave of his hand.

The younger Watcher obeyed the silent command.

Toni said: "I think I saw Angel today. He introduced himself as Liam Galway and he was with a floppy-eared demon named Clem, but I would bet my life it was Angel himself. I did in fact bet my life when I invited them both into my flat. I think the fact I lived to write this means I won my bet."

Lexington said: "Brave and smart don’t always go together."

Toni continued reading. "Willow and the other Sunnydale survivors told me enough about Clem—about his physical appearance, which is repugnant, and his character, which is adorable—to convince me the Corpus demon I met was Clem himself. As for ‘Liam,’ he is a tall and dark and handsome and taciturn fellow. Just as Willow described her undead friend. He told me his enemies would never find him and if they did they would be afraid of his tenants. Based on those remarks, I think he has gone to the Well. I hope his enemies are as smart as he is—or we are in very, very serious danger."

Toni looked up and looked directly at Giles. "My ancestor capitalized Well. I think she meant—"

"The Deeper Well," Giles said.

Katherine frowned. "What’s that?"

"I’ll explain later, sweetie," Jocasta said.

Lexington looked at Giles. "You think there’s a connection between this diary and the Mohra?"

"I can’t imagine how, but I find any reference to Clem very disturbing under current circumstances."

Jocasta said: "Especially since there’s only one unclassified reference to Mohra demons in the archives."

James Wells spoke up. "And the really creepy part? The classified records all require matching DNA scans from four different people just to circumvent the password codes and decrypt the files."

Katherine frowned. "I thought password encryptions were considered outdated because they were so easy to decipher."

James shook his head. "They’re only easy to decipher if you know the person who created the code phrase. People usually use a code based on their birthday, a lover’s birthday, something personal. But we can’t know enough about the person who set up these files."

"Why not?"

"The original files were created in the early 21^st century—in late 2005."

Giles looked at Jocasta. "I thought you said this encryption was the work of the former High Command."

"I assumed. It never dawned on me that we’d be dealing with a 125-year-old conspiracy."

"We are trying to locate a 3,000 year old Corpus demon and you thought the problem was recent?"

Jocasta hung her head in shame.

Scene Eight

FADE IN

Cut to:

Ext., the empty lake bed near the Council Headquarters.

The meteor still oozed smoke into the atmosphere. Damn thing was roughly as big as Janna’s guest bedroom had been.

Janna Kalderash jogged 30 laps around the empty lake before she stopped.

She gasped: "You—can—stop—following—me—now—Slayer."

Silence.

"I—know—perfectly—well—that—Mr. Giles—ordered you—to spy—on me. I would have—done the same—thing to protect—a good employee."

"Good thing, ’cause I wasn’t plannin’ to apologize," Livia said. "Mind explaining why you’re jogging around a dead lake?"

Janna looked around. Wherever the Slayer was, she was well hidden. "Bad dream, Slayer."

"You know, I do have a name."

"Well show your face and introduce yourself."

Livia stepped out of the shadows and extended her hand. "Livia Hansen."

If Janna was startled by the Slayer’s sudden appearance, she certainly didn’t act startled. She shook Livia’s hand. The two women quickly and openly appraised each other.

"You’re pretty healthy for a civilian."

Janna smiled. "And you’re quite pretty for a Slayer."

Livia frowned.

"I wasn’t flirting."

"You sure? ’Cause it looked like you gave me the once over."

"Gypsies are pretty conservative about sex," Janna said. "My family would disown me if I gave up my virginity before my wedding night—let alone if I slept with another female, however lovely."

"For a girl who’s het, you set off the gaydar pretty hard."

"I hate conforming to stereotypes of any sort."

"Wanted to tell you I was impressed with how you handled yourself when that thing hit." Livia pointed at the meteor, which was still smoldering.

Janna smiled. "You flatter me. Most warriors assume I’m a spoiled rich girl."

"Oh, I’m sure you’re plenty spoiled but you still got guts. I respect that."

Janna looked at the space rock. "Funny. You remember the First Nuclear War?"

"Before my time."

Janna gave her a dirty look. "A meteor just a meter wide slammed into the Kashmir district and exploded. Released five megatons of energy. Pakistan and India each assumed the other had launched a first strike, so each launched what they thought was a second strike."

"Nasty mistake," Livia said. "But that was 30-odd years ago. Why bring it up now?"

"That thing’s much bigger than a meter wide rock—but there was no explosion. Cleveland shouldn’t be here anymore, let alone the Council Tower or us."

Livia frowned. "That can’t be right. You can’t violate natural laws."

"Demons do it all the time."

"You think a demon rode in on that thing?"

"It’s happened before," Janna said. "Not that I’m an expert like you, Slayer, but—"

Naturally, a 6-foot-tall Mohra demon attacked just then—plunging a sword into Livia’s back. The tip of the blade actually stuck out of her belly.

Janna somersaulted over the demon and the wounded Slayer. The Mohra tried to pull the blade out as she was directly overhead, but Liva grabbed the blade with both hands and simultaneously drove her right heal into the demon’s right kneecap.

The blade cut Livia’s palms. The Mohra’s kneecap cracked loudly.

Janna landed behind the Mohra, facing him. She glanced around, spied a rock and snatched it up.

The Mohra managed to pull its blade free of the brunette Slayer’s grip and spun around, swinging the blade in a motion clearly meant to decapitate the blonde.

Unfortunately for him, he swung as if his opponent were his height. At 5-foot-3, Janna had a decided advantage. The blade whooshed harmlessly over her head.

Janna threw the rock directly at the Mohra’s jeweled head.

A flash of light and gone.

Livia pitched forward. Janna knelt beside her. "It’s dead. You gave me time."

"Comforting." Livia’s eyes closed.

"Oh, no, Slayer, I forbid you to die on my account. No Kalderash will owe a Slayer her life." The petite blonde then picked up the bleeding Slayer and ran toward the Council Tower.

FADE OUT

Scene Nine

FADE IN

Ext., Los Angeles Local Cargoport, on former site of Los Angeles International Airport, night.

A Western Food Rationing Corporation transport, flanked by LAPC [Los Angeles Police Corporation] and FBIP, LTD. [Federal Bureau of Infrastructure Protection, Limited] skimmers, rose up from the launch pads and turned eastward.

As the transport and the skimmers approached the outer limits of Los Angeles proper, the LAPC skimmers maneuvered away from the cargo vessel, allowing skimmers from CalTransportCorp [a hybrid of Cal Trans and the long defunct California Highway Patrol] to take their place. Once the CTC skimmers were in position, the LAPC skimmers veered off and returned to LA Municipal airspace.

The California skimmers, in turn, fell away at the Nevada border and were replaced by NevTransportInk skimmers. And so on, state by state. Only the privatized remnant of the FBI (which itself had been patterned after the private Pinkerton Detective Agency) stayed with the cargo vessel and its contents.

Cut to:

Int., cargo hold, Western Food Rationing Corporation transport.

"You didn’t have to come with me, Mr. Gunn. You could be arrested if—"

"I understood the risks when I shook your hand, Clem. And actually, I think I did have to come along. Somethin’ tells me the Watchers ain’t gonna just invite you in to supper."

They sat between square containers that, for all they were made of modern polymer, did not look like great improvements over old-fashioned crates. Boxes had apparently not changed much over the centuries.

Clem smiled at his human companion. "Humans generally don’t like to eat with my kind anyway."

"How do you feel about us?" Charles Gunn III asked.

"Humans? I’ve loved some, hated others. If I could’ve got my hands on the Trio—"

"Who?"

"Three pathetic losers who liked to play with toys and fantasize about turning women into mind controlled sex slaves. One of them murdered one of the sweetest Witches I ever met in my life—and I am 3,012 years old so—"

Gunn was saddened by his words. "I’m sorry about your friend. When did she die?"

"May of 2002."

Now Gunn looked just a bit irked. "Long time ago."

"To you, Mr. Gunn, sure, but to me . . . I can still remember her scent. "She always smelled like Willow." He smiled wistfully.

"I never smelled a willow tree," Gunn said. "They’re extinct, aren’t they?"

Clem laughed and slapped his knee. "I meant that she smelled like a person named Willow. Another Witch. Became a Watcher, maybe one of the best. She’d turn all veiny if she knew what her heirs did with the Council."

"But now you’re going back to them."

"Willow would want me to," Clem said. "And Buffy, too." He sighed. "I just hope I don’t have to ask him to leave the Well."

"Him who? Why not?" Gunn frowned. "When the hell did I become a detective?"

Clem said: "The Guardian of the Deeper Well. Sometimes he has to leave it to defend it. I’ve managed to help him so he hasn’t had to show his face around the Council, but . . . man . . . "

"Why don’t you want him to have a face to face with the Council?"

"I don’t think he can handle seeing any familiar faces."

"If he’s been around as long as you—"

"Oh, no, he was only born in the 17^th Century."

"Only?"

Clem shrugged. "It’s a perspective thing."

"All the same, if he’s been around that long I don’t think there are any familiar faces left."

"You would be surprised, Mr. Gunn."

FADE OUT.

To be continued in Act Two, Part One

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (3A/5F)

DISCLAIMER: Based on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel," created by Joss Whedon; based on "Watchers" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters "Restoration" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters and written by Chris Cook.

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT:

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (3A/5F)

Act Two, Part One

Scene One

FADE IN.

Cut to:

Ext., New York skyline, sunrise.

Cut to:

Ext., New York Offices, Wolfram & Hart.

The detectives of the New York City Police Conglomerate were out in force. The investigator in charge shook her head.

"No, sir, you can’t come in, Mr. Rayne. By the way, that Council ID has expired—you need to update it before you get arrested for impersonating a Watcher."

Rayne thanked her. "There are no survivors?"

"None."

Rayne got into a private skimmer that bore the logo of Kalderash International.

Drusilla sat in Mr. Kalderash’s lap.

Sunlight touched Drusilla’s skin and smoke rose up from her flesh as she whined.

"I apologize," said Rayne.

Kalderash said: "All dead?"

"Yes."

"I had hoped to avoid paying for legal services. I thought the Senior Partners would represent me pro bono in exchange for our help in destroying Angel."

Cut to:

Ext., Los Angeles Local Passenger port, day.

The handsome young man smiled at the pretty older woman behind the counter.

She glared at him. "The Luggage Port has no record of your luggage."

Luggage and passenger ports were part of the unending War on Terror. To prevent terrorist attacks, passengers and their luggage traveled independently of one another. Conveniently for the transportation industry, that meant a fee for each piece of luggage as well as for each passenger.

"Check again. I just dropped my stuff off."

"That name again?"

"Riley, Connor Riley."

"What kind of a stupid name is that?"

"It isn’t stupid," Connor said. "It’s Irish. I was named after my grandfather."

"You do understand, sir, that if I cannot find your name in the database in one more try, I will have to turn you over to Homeland Security Ltd. for summary execution?"

His smile did not dim. "I understand."

The woman placed her hand on a flat surface just behind the counter and repeated the name he had given her.

A holographic image of Connor materialized between them.

"Your Family Emergency Authorization to travel without prior notice has been confirmed by the Luggage Port. Your luggage will leave in four hours—you will leave in five."

"Just about the same amount of time it took when my grandfather was a lad," Connor said. "Some things never change."

FADE OUT.

Cut to:

FADE IN.

Ext., Cleveland Cargo Port, day.

Ext., Launch Pad 1028.

Ext., a Western Food Rationing Corporation transport.

Something with a human face, but no clothes or gender-distinguishing characteristics, opened the exterior door and entered.

It slowly "looked" to the left, then to the right. Out loud, it said: "AI-COCP345 scan complete. Report one org—"

A lightening bolt slammed into the robot. It pitched forward and landed with a loud crash.

"MOVE, CLEM!"

Charles Gunn III and Clem ran like hell for the door.

Cut to:

Ext., a restaurant.

Cut to:

Int., ladies room in same restaurant.

Many things had changed, but restrooms had mirrors. In fact, every wall of the restroom was mirrored. An audio message repeated again and again: "The parent company that owns this restaurant assumes no liability for vampire attacks in areas accessible to the general public. Please be sure everyone in your vicinity casts a reflection. These mirrors are provided for your protection. Have a lovely evening."

Illyria examined her own reflection and paid no attention to the reflections of the other women in the restroom. She smiled with satisfaction at the positioning of the Slayer Insignia.

"Deception is a human skill, but I think I shall carry this off with success."

The two women flanking her stopped washing their hands to give her puzzled looks.

Illyria scowled. "I cannot afford interference."

She snapped both their necks.

Cut to:

Ext., ladies room.

She walked out wearing her "Fred" look. Again, she drew stares—but no one living on the Cleveland Hellmouth seemed overly concerned that a woman was walking about in clothes that were over a century out of fashion. Perhaps they had seen far more disturbing things.

Illyria walked out of the restaurant and into the streets.

Suddenly, she heard shouting behind her—and she ran.

Toward the Council Tower.

FADE OUT.

Scene Two

FADE IN.

Waiting area, Council Medical Center.

The doctor’s facial expression was grim.

"I do not believe she can long survive."

Janna Kalderash shook her head. "She can’t die."

Giles snapped: "Some things are beyond your power, Miss Kalderash."

The Watchers and the Kalderash heir had gathered to wait for news about Livia’s injuries. The long wait since the previous night had left them all weary.

Janna said: "I have something that can save her."

The doctor shook his head. "No power on Earth—"

Jocasta said: "Magic? Is it magic?"

Janna nodded. "Mohra blood. My family keeps gallons of the stuff on hand."

Jocasta stalked over to the blonde and pressed her nose against the other woman’s nose. "You didn’t feel like sharing this with us?"

Giles said: "Storing bio-toxins is a serious crime, Miss Kalderash. It is a violation of the Alexander Harris Act—and punishable by death."

"Hence the not volunteering," Janna said.

"But now you care about someone besides yourself," Lexington Harris said.

"She saved my life," Janna said. "I can’t just . . . let her die."

"How quickly can you get a supply of Mohra blood here?"

"Minutes if I can get in and out of our local office," Janna said. "Assuming my family hasn’t changed the access codes."

Sebastian Giles crossed his arms. "And why would they do that?"

"They didn’t want me coming here. They don’t want anything to do with Watchers."

Katherine said: "I w-wish y-you’d respected your f-family’s wishes."

"If this Mohra blood will help, then go get it," Lexington said.

Giles shook his head. "Miss Kalderash was attacked by a Mohra demon. We have to assume his employers have realized his failure and will send another. We can’t send her out without a Slayer escort—and I cannot in good conscience order someone to—"

"I-I will go," Katherine said. "For Livia’s sake."

Janna started to leave, but Giles grabbed her arm. "When you return, you will tell me everything—not just what you want me to hear or what you think I need to know. Every. Single. Thing. Clear?"

"Clear."

Giles released her. Katherine followed Janna. Once both women were out of sight, Giles turned to James Wells. "Did you look at the visrec?"

"Yeah, and you were right: Janna killed the Mohra—not Livia."

"Another lie."

"Sir? You know what happens when the Council finds a Slayer and she doesn’t want to Slay. I don’t think anyone’s had the nerve or the money or the political muscle to get away with defying Council authority in fighting the War on Demons."

"You are suggesting that Miss Kalderash is afraid to trust us?"

"Remember what the High Command did with that Project 314 business, sir," James said. "It never made the news media, but the shake up was so bad there is just no way it could be kept entirely secret. Someone with her connections would have to know about it—and that scandal didn’t exactly do anything to win the Council new friends."

Jocasta said: "Giles? Do you think the Mohra blood will really cure her?"

"Miss Kalderash seems to think so," Giles said. "I cannot pretend to be her greatest admirer, but think she believes the Mohra blood will help. How realistic that belief is, I do not know."

Lexington said: "Dumb question. Is there any connection between the Secret Slayer and the Mohra army in Beverly Hills?"

Giles nodded. "I think there might be."

Cut to:

Int., a Council skimmer.

Katherine drove.

Janna looked out at the world. "God have mercy on me if he dies."

"You’ll be needing the Council’s mercy."

"I fear my conscience far more than your Council, Slayer."

"With all the secrets you’ve been keeping from us, your conscience must be offline."

Janna didn’t say anything.

"I don’t know Livia very well, but she’s nice enough and I’d be really angry if she died."

Janna nodded. "She is cute."

"I’m committed."

"She is also very brave. She saved my life."

"Maybe if you’d stayed inside the Council Tower—"

"Then someone else would have been hurt," Janna said. "That wasn’t my first experience with a Mohra."

Katherine didn’t answer.

Janna said: "I’ve been attacked by five since I was born. Three attacked my mother while she was carrying me. Another killed her, along with my little brother, when I was just two. It was night and a tall dark man saved me from it. At least, that’s what our chauffer said."

"Y-you do understand I’m going to tell Councilor Giles what you told me."

"Of course," Janna said. "A Slayer must obey her Giles."

Katherine frowned.

FADE OUT.

Scene Three

FADE IN.

Ext., Council Headquarters.

Clem looked up at the thing. "I don’t know why I’m surprised—but I honestly thought it would look the same."

"How long’s it been?"

"I bet the oldest people here were grandchildren of the people I knew," Clem said. "That’s the one thing I don’t like about humans—you all make me feel very old."

"Think we’ll get a warm greeting?" Gunn asked.

A public announcement system answered him: "DO NOT MOVE! ANY SUDDEN MOVEMENT WILL RESULT IN YOUR SUMMARY EXECUTION! HUMAN! PLEASE STEP AWAY FROM THE DEMON!"

"A little warmer than I would’ve liked," Gunn said.

A small army, entirely female, poured out of the building. Illyria, hiding nearby, slipped into the crowd. All the women save Illyria carried modern weapons. None of the armed women noticed the one unfamiliar face among them. Her leather outfit resembled the uniform closely enough—and she wore the Slayer Insignia. The armed women aimed all their weapons at the floppy-eared demon and the African American man.

Gunn smiled and called out. "You spoiling for a fight?"

Illyria tilted her head. She whispered: "You are not displeasing to my eyes."

An Asian Slayer on Illyria’s right said: "I admit the bald guy’s cute, but he’s a dead man if he doesn’t move away from that . . . thing."

Illyria called out to the black man: "You will not last 10 minutes."

Gunn shouted back: "Let’s make ’em count!"

Illyria smiled and whispered: "So much like his ancestor."

And Gunn fired all 10 fingers at the Slayer army.

Half of them fell. The other half fired weapons. Gunn ducked and rolled and came up firing again.

Clem was struck by a purple beam of light and dropped to the ground. Gunn stepped between the demon and the Slayer brigade. He stood his ground, providing the hurt demon with cover instead of seeking cover of his own.

Illyria drove an elbow into one Slayer’s face; butted heads with a second and leapt up to kick two Slayers in the head.

Clem groaned: "Gunn! Stun the blue one!"

Gunn didn’t ask questions—he aimed a bolt of electricity at Illyria.

She staggered, but did not fall.

Then a jetcycle slammed headlong into Illyria’s . . . head.

Illyria moved as quickly as the cycle, of course, and she grabbed the back of the vehicle and sent it into the nearest wall.

Tonia Allister dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Col. Jocasta Rosenberg ran out of the building and yelled, "STUN HER!" pointing at Illyria.

One good thing about the militaristic character of the modern Council—Slayers didn’t stop to ask why they were getting insane orders. They just obeyed. Five Slayers and Charles Gunn III all fired at Illyria—Gunn with his natural electricity and the Slayers with the stun gloves.

For 10 minutes six lightening bolts slammed into and electrified the ancient demon.

Her eyes rolled back. She sank to her knees. She pitched forward.

The Slayers immediately turned their attention to Gunn—who stunned them before they had a chance to recharge their stun gloves.

Jocasta yelled: "HOLD FIRE!"

The Slayers stopped firing, but held their positions—and held their weapons on the man and the prone demon.

Then she unfurled something decidedly low tech and ancient—a white cloth.

Gunn’s jaw dropped. "White flags still exist?"

Clem groaned. "Don’t hurt her. If you don’t. Have to. She looks. Familiar."

The red head held the white cloth over her head and slowly walked toward Gunn.

When they were about 30 feet apart, Jocasta stopped and said: "Charles Gunn II?"

"Third!"

"My mistake. Is that Clem with you?"

"You’re gonna have to get past me to get him."

"We know he’d like to talk to us! We wanna hear what he has to say. You have my word he won’t be harmed."

"Yeah, corporate types have a real good history of keeping their word."

Clem groaned. "What’s her name?"

Gunn shouted the same question back to Jocasta.

"Col. Jocasta Rosenberg."

Clem said: "I think we can trust her."

Gunn shouted: "He trusts you—I don’t."

"You can hold a weapon on me if you like!"

"No offense, Col. Rosenberg—but I AM a weapon!"

"I’ll keep that in mind!"

FADE OUT.

To be continued in Act Two, Part Two

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (3B/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT:

On another note: Dr. Crivarro is an original character. He is based, loosely, on the doctor who delivered me and saved my life more than once when I was a child.

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (3B/5F)

Act Two, Part Two

Scene Four

FADE IN.

Ext., Operating Room 6, Council Medical Center.

The doctor shook his head. "I am not touching a demon."

"You prefer unemployment?" Giles asked.

"For a guy who says he’s gonna change things around here, you don’t seem much different from Tyrell."

"He would have shot the demon without asking questions—and then shot you for disobeying orders."

The doctor sighed. "I don’t know how to treat a demon. And nobody knows anything about Corpus demons."

Lexington Harris came up behind Councilor Giles. "The human didn’t suffer much damage."

"And the young woman impersonating a Slayer?"

"You better speak with Dr. Crivarro about that one. What he said . . . didn’t make sense."

Cut to:

Int., Dr. Crivarro’s consultation room.

The short, square, balding man said: "She’s dead—but she’s still breathing."

Giles looked at Lexington.

The one-eyed man said: "I told you—no sense."

Giles looked at the doctor. "An explanation would be very nice."

"The chest is moving, in haling and exhaling, but there is no other sign of life. But the body is warm."

"Demon?"

"DNA says human—but so does a vampire’s DNA. We’ve never developed a scan that can distinguish between human-possessed-by-demon DNA and normal human DNA. As for this young lady . . . I ran her through our Watch Database."

"And?"

"Visrecs refereed me to historical identification archives. The fingerprints belong to a woman named Winifred Burkle, an employee of Wolfram & Hart."

Lexington said: "This just keeps getting better and better."

Crivarro continued: "A cross-reference to demons came up with some interesting names. Burkle worked at Wolfram & Hart under a CEO named Angel and was romantically linked to a disgraced ex-watcher named Wesley Wyndam Price."

Lexington said: "I’m beginning to see why the old records were classified. The Council wouldn’t want anyone to know a Watcher went to work for a—" He gagged. "—vampire."

Giles shook his head. "The level of secrecy surrounding this Angel is far too high for an ordinary cover-up. The records were sealed as if someone were desperate to make sure no one ever learned anything about this Angel."

The doctor shrugged. "I can’t address that. But I can tell you that there is another reference to Winifred Burkle in the Index of Extremely Dangerous Demons. According to the records, Illyira killed Burkle and took over her body. The reports say she can assume the Burkle woman’s form and manner—and can access her memories."

"When did this Burkle woman die?" Giles asked.

"Early 2004."

"Her memories couldn’t be useful anymore," Lexington said.

"What about the insignia on her clothes?"

The doctor sighed. "Assigned to Slayer Rank I Jennifer Green. Her Watcher Joseph Leeds vanished a couple of nights ago."

"Kill it," Lexington said.

"There’s no known method for killing Illyria," the doctor said. "I checked."

"When was she last seen?" Giles asked.

"2004—Willow Rosenberg teleported her into space during a pitched battle at the Sunnydale wastelands."

"That was the best the great Willow Rosenberg could do?" Lexington asked.

"To be quite fair," Giles said, "Willow Rosenberg’s spell did keep Illyira from harming anyone for the better part of one and a quarter centuries."

"There’s more," said the doctor. "Illyria was one of the Old Ones—one of the demons who lived when demons ruled the Earth. She should be in the Deeper Well—not here."

FADE OUT.

Scene Five.

FADE IN.

Int., Cleveland Office, Kalderash International.

A small potted tree stood just inside the door.

The two blondes stepped inside the doors. Katherine touched Janna’s arm. "Don’t move. Demons."

"You can sense them?"

Katherine nodded. "All Slayers can."

Janna nodded. "Well, relax, the demons here work for us translating dead languages."

Katherine glared at her. "The Kalderash hire demons? That’s illegal."

"But very few humans study demonic languages. As long as they’re not vampires or homosexuals, we don’t discriminate."

Katherine rolled her eyes. "Well, what I’m sensing are vampires—lots of them."

She pointed at the far end of the hall.

Six vampires, fangs showing, were marching toward them.

"Fight or run."

"The Mohra blood is here, right?"

Janna nodded. "We fight, then. No prisoners?"

"No time to interrogate prisoners and save Livia."

Janna turned, broke a branch off the tree. She broke that branch in half and handed one to Katherine.

"Very low tech."

"Buffy Summers was never big on gadgets," Janna said.

FADE OUT.

FADE IN.

Int., Col. Jocasta Rosenberg’s office.

"Please sit down, Mr. Gunn."

"You people always that trigger happy?"

"Demons usually don’t come here to make friends," Jocasta said. "We over-reacted. My fault. I should have put up some sort of anti-violence spell and issued a Contact Only on Clem."

"You know him?"

"Never met him, but I understand he knew the founders. Now, about Clem—"

Gunn said: "You’ve got much bigger problems. We saw Mohra demons rehearsing an attack on a tree."

Jocasta’s jaw dropped. "A tree? All this violence over a stupid tree?"

Gunn shook his head. "I just think the thing they’re going after looks like a tree. Clem called it the Deeper Well. He thinks the Mohra are after the Guardian of the Well—or the dead demons sleeping there."

"Oh, this is just so lovely."

A computer generated voice said: "Urgent. Message. From. James. Wells."

"Open," Jocasta said.

"Message contains classified data. Unauthorized personnel are not—"

"I’ll authorize Mr. Gunn to hear the information," Jocasta said.

James’ voice came through: "I’ve got good news and bad. The good news is, I know whose DNA we need to access those files. The bad news is, two of those people don’t exist."

"Who are they?"

"A blood relative of Willow Rosenberg, of Rupert Giles, of Buffy Summers—and of the vampire Angel himself."

Jocasta shook her head. "You-you said what?"

"You heard me."

"The most highly classified records in the Watcher’s Council are sealed under the DNA of a VAMPIRE?"

"Whoever set this up wanted to be damned sure no one saw those records."

Jocasta groaned. "Ghandi was right—no secret society can ever come to any good."

FADE OUT.

Scene Six

FADE IN.

Ext., Intensive Care Unit, Watcher’s Medical Center.

Katherine and Janna staggered through the outside doors. They were holding each other up, drenched in sweat, bloodied and bruised and smiling like they’d just won a prize.

Doctor’s and nurses ran up to them. Janna Kalderash held up a one-liter bottle of Mohra demon blood. "Pour some into an open wound and stand back."

The doctors and nurses glanced at each other. Katherine said: "DO IT!"

"You’re out of line, Slayer. Doctors outrank—"

Janna Kalderash said: "Do it or I’ll call Homeland Security Ltd. and order your entire family shot."

A doctor reached out a trembling hand and took the bottle from her. The medical personnel moved quickly, very quickly through the doors that led to the patients.

"That was harsh," Katherine said.

Janna shrugged. "Sometimes being imperious helps."

"Think it will work?"

Janna nodded. "Mohra blood’s pretty amazing. It cured an ancestor of mine of a disease that was supposed to be incurable. She told the family a faith healer cured her. Good thing, too, or I wouldn’t be here. She gave birth to a little blonde Kalderash."

"W-why aren’t you a Slayer?"

"My family wanted me to grow old. Very few Slayers die of age."

Katherine nodded. "And you never wanted to serve?"

"Been there, done that."

A shrill scream filled the air.

Katherine almost ran toward the sound, but Janna grabbed her arm. "That’s Livia. She’ll be fine in about two minutes."

"She doesn’t sound fine."

But two minutes later, Livia, still dressed in her paper hospital gown, came stomping through a pair of doors and stalked toward Janna.

"Better get clear," Janna said. "I think she wants to kick my ass."

Livia smiled. "How’d you guess?"

She grabbed Janna by the throat and lifted the blonde over her dark head.

"Why did the Mohra demon attack you?"

Katherine said: "They’ve been after her all her life."

Livia continued to smile, but it was a predatory smile and quite chilling to see. "I think we should take this to Councilor Giles."

Katherine said: "You might want to put clothes on."

Livia blushed. To Janna, she said: "I get propositioned, you’re dead."

Cut to:
Int.
Watchers Council Computer Center

Giles, Jocasta and Lexington were talking to Anyabot and James Wells when Janna Kalderash came flying through the door—literally.

She slid along the floor and slammed into one of the computers.

"Hey! I don’t care what you do to her, Livia, but don’t destroy my computers!"

"Sorry, Jimmy," Livia said. She wore a new uniform now. "Miss rich bitch has been keeping secrets."

Giles looked at Katherine. "Kalderash hires demons—the local office was crawling with vampires." She smiled. "All dust in the wind. Janna’s a very talented Slayer."

Janna sat up and groaned. "I’m not a Slayer—been there, done that."

Anyabot said: "Councilor? If you’re done fighting, I think you should take a message from the Medical Center. Clem is well and wants to speak with the head watcher."

Giles knelt beside Janna Kalderash. "I told you I wanted to know everything."

"You remember those dreams I mentioned?"

Giles nodded.

"I think they’re memories."

Giles looked over his shoulder at Jocasta. "Of a past life?"

Janna nodded. She looked over at the red head. "You look like someone in my dreams. The blonde in my dreams called her Willow," Janna said. "I think I used to be Buffy Summers."

And, of course, on that very dramatic note, another dramatic event occurred.

James Wells’ private office exploded.

Windows shattered and the door fell open. The lights went out. The computers went out. Anyabot dropped like a stone.

FADE OUT.

To be Continued in Act Two, Part Three

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (3C/5F)

DISCLAIMER: DISCLAIMER: Based on "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and "Angel," created by Joss Whedon; based on "Watchers" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters "Restoration" created by Susan Carr and CN Winters and written by Chris Cook.

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: Dr. Crivarro is an original character.

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (3C/5F)

Act Two, Part Three

Scene Seven

FADE IN.

James Wells’ private office exploded.

Windows shattered and the door fell open. The lights went out. The computers went out. Anyabot dropped like a stone.

It was Lexington Harris who rushed into James Wells’ office.

Giles shouted: "Harris, don’t! That’s an order!"

Harris yelled, "Can’t hear you!"

Giles rolled his eyes. "He thinks he’s a bloody comedian."

Moments later, Lexington returned. He gently tossed a jagged fragment of a dark metal case from one hand to the other. It was apparently quite hot—it raised blisters on his flesh wherever he touched the case.

"My good eye—" He pointed at the artificial eye. "—says this was probably a Sunlight Grenade."

Everyone stared at him.

"A failed experiment," he said. "I thought I could re-create a small flash of pure daylight so Slayers, especially new Slayers and block op units, could take out large groups of vamps with minimum effort and no collateral damage."

"Why did it fail?" Giles asked.

"It creates an actual explosion, as you’ve seen, which means anyone close by could be killed. No good for a hostage situation. Also, it releases an electromagnetic pulse. Sort of a mini flux compression generator."

Giles stared at him blankly.

James Wells said: "That’s a low cost nuke that could plunge a small city into the pre-electrical era." He frowned. "It may have wiped out the entire database."

Katherine ducked into the hallway and returned. "The lights are working outside—the damage is strictly local."

Giles glared at the tech. "You don’t have a back up system?"

"Any moron knows you always have a redundancy system," James said. "We transmit copies of everything to the Chicago, Los Angeles and New York offices on an hourly basis."

Jocasta said: "What about the originals?"

"What about them?"

"Well, call me nuts, but couldn’t we actually open some real books and read what they say?"

James gaped at her as though she had advocated blasphemy.

Giles held up his hand. "That’s quite enough. Lexington, what are the chances that we can run a DNA scan to identify whoever did this?"

"None. The radiation isn’t exactly lethal—not to humans, anyway—but microscopic traces of DNA would’ve been destroyed by the explosion." Lexington looked at Anya. "Bring her to my lab, James, I’ll get her back on line."

"Will she—?"

"We should be able to recover most of her memories," Lexington said. To Giles: "The army said they’d have the records you requested in an hour."

"I didn’t expect them to be entirely cooperative."

"The army would much rather have the Council fight Mohra demons than battle them for themselves," Xander said.

Giles pulled Janna Kalderash to her feet. "Come with me, Miss Kalderash. I want you to meet someone?"

"You don’t want to ask me about what I just said? About how I might be Buffy Summers?"

"I suspect the . . . gentleman in our conference room will know more about that than you will."

To Livia, Giles said: "Make sure this Illyria/Winifred Burkle is under control."

She nodded and left without a word.

James said: "She forgot to salute."

Giles ignored James. To Lexington, Giles said: "How could someone acquire Sunlight Grenades?"

"In theory, only sector personnel have access to sector materials. In practice, any maintenance worker or any cadet assigned to maintenance would have access."

"Do you have other Sunlight Grenades?"

"A couple, why?"

"I should like to have a few on hand in case Mr. Gunn proves . . . difficult."

Katherine said: "I’ll guard them myself." To Jocasta, she said: "Be very careful. Bombs aren’t demonic—they’re human evil."

FADE OUT.

Scene Eight

FADE IN.

Int., Conference Room 7, Watcher’s Council.

Gunn and Clem were waiting in the conference room when the Watchers and Janna Kalderash came in.

Clem beamed. "Oh my god! You look just like—"

Janna sighed. "Don’t remind me."

Jocasta said: "If it makes you feel any better—I can relate. Everyone expects me to be the reincarnation of Willow Rosenberg."

Giles said: "I thought you were—"

"You know what I mean."

Clem sniffed. "May I come closer, miss?"

Janna crossed her arms. "Why? Have you suddenly developed a taste for the living?"

Clem, clearly hurt, lowered his eyes.

Gunn said: "Be nice, lady. This demon wants to save the world. That’s more than I can say for most humans."

Clem muttered: "I wanna be sure what I smell is . . . real."

Janna looked at Giles. He shrugged, but Jocasta snapped her fingers.

"Some demons can smell souls. Maybe he can tell if we are who we think we were." She frowned. "Am I the only one who thinks I sounded a little incoherent there?"

Clem smiled. "Babble runs in your blood."

Janna sighed. "If it’ll help, go ahead and smell me. Just, just make it quick. The Kalderash do not raise their sons and daughters to cuddle demons."

Clem got up and stepped closer. He leaned in and sniffed Janna’s neck. "Wow. You smell just like Buffy."

"Do I look like her?"

"A dead ringer," Clem said.

Jocasta waved. "Excuse me. Could you—?"

Clem stepped over to her and sniffed. "Definitely the same scent. I’m no mystic, but I think you’re both old souls."

Giles said: "Am I—?"

"I don’t know," Clem said. "I never met Rupert Giles. He didn’t like demons much."

Giles nodded. "Well, perhaps it is best to live one’s own life and not try to relive a past life. Shall we sit down? Janna Kalderash has some answers and so, I suspect, do you Mr. Clem."

"Just Clem. My people don’t have last names. Actually, most of us don’t have first names. It was Spike who started calling me Clem."

The Watchers and Charles Gunn III stared at him.

"Spike? William the Bloody? The Second Vampire with a Soul?"

Giles glared at Janna. "How many vampires did your family curse?"

"As far as I know, Angel was the only one."

Cut to:

Ext., Lexington Harris’ lab.

James Wells paced back and forth. He looked grief-stricken.

"James?"

He turned to Cadet Lesley Warren Meers.

"I heard about Anya. I’m so sorry." The pretty young brunette spread her arms wide.

James, desperate for comfort, went to her and hugged her.

She stabbed him.

He gasped in pain and sank to his knees.

She slashed his throat.

She dropped the knife and stepped back—and tossed a small metallic shell at him—and ran.

Cut to:

Int., the lab.

"Someone’s changed the access code on this damned thing—someone who knows Council procedures," Lexington said.

"They probably took all the Sunlight Grenades you had."

"Alert security and I’ll—"

They heard the explosion and ran outside.

Cut to:

James Wells on the floor, bleeding from multiple wounds.

Katherine scooped him up. "Call ICU, tell them to get more of that Mohra blood."

Lexington sighed. "I’ll go to Councilor Giles. Anya can wait."

FADE OUT.

Scene Nine

FADE IN.

Int., Conference Room 7, Watcher’s Council.

"We knew something was . . . different about me before I was born," Janna said. "Three Mohra demons attacked my mother while she was carrying me. Five more have attacked me since. Three in the last year."

The others waited. Clem smiled and nodded, encouraging her.

"As soon as I reached puberty, I started having dreams. The first one was exactly as I described it to you, Mr. Giles—Angel ran across a sunlit field to rescue me and a dragon destroyed the world."

Clem said: "The Senior Partners sent a dragon, and a whole army, after Angel and his friends when they killed the Circle of the Black Thorn."

"And they would be . . . ?" Gunn asked.

"A secret society in charge of evil in this reality," Giles said. "I was taught that the leaders were killed during a failed coup which in turn sparked a number of demonic civil wars in a variety of dimensions. The conflict stopped about 20 years ago, when the Circle of the Black Thorn was reconstituted."

Janna shrugged. "All I know is, I started dreaming. At first the dreams were more symbolic than literal but . . . in the last couple of years, they’ve been much more realistic. They are memories, I think. There is one that comes to me over and over and over—of a day when the vampire was human. But he asked the Powers That Be to turn back time so he could be a vampire again."

"He liked drinking blood that much?" Jocasta asked.

Janna shook her head. "She almost died protecting Angel the mere mortal. He wanted to remain a warrior, to remain strong enough to protect her, and the price of remaining a warrior was to give up his humanity."

"She probably never forgave him for that," Jocasta said.

"She didn’t remember," Janna said. "That was the plan. Only he was supposed to keep that memory. Why I should keep a memory that Buffy wasn’t supposed to keep . . . I can’t imagine."

"How did Angel become human in the first place?" Giles asked.

"He accidentally exposed an open wound to Mohra blood. It made him human."

"Maybe this Angel guy is behind the Mohra activity out West," Gunn said. "Sounds like he needs some Mohra blood—and there’s plenty to spill back in the Hills."

Clem shook his head. "Angel wouldn’t want it. He signed away his humanity a long time ago. He said it was the only way to get at the Black Thorn."

Janna sighed. "He was always willing to fight for people, but never willing to be one. Big, stupid undead jerk."

The others stared at her.

"I don’t have feelings for him," Janna said. "But when I dream . . . remember Buffy’s memories . . . I feel what she felt. She adored him. I don’t think she ever stopped, even after he died."

"We haven’t been able to access any records on his death—or life or unlife or whatever," Jocasta said.

Janna shrugged. "I know the Senior Partners murdered Angel and the blue demon and the others in 2004."

Giles leaned forward. "Blue demon?"

"She called herself Illyria. She helped Willow and some transparent, astral-projected blonde named Alistair, wreck vengeance on the Kalderash."

"For?" Jocasta asked.

"The kidnapping and torturing of Willow Rosenberg."

Giles and Jocasta and Gunn all shook their heads in disgust.

Sebastian Giles said: "Illyria tried to impersonate a Slayer—she would have infiltrated the Tower if Mr. Gunn and Clem had not been thoughtful enough to visit us."

Clem said: "We have bigger problems."

Jocasta nodded. "From what Toni told us, Angel was still alive after everyone thought he was dead."

"But what has this to do with the Deeper Well and the Mohra army?" Giles asked.

Gunn rubbed his eyes. "Mister, I just walked in half-way through and I get it."

Jocasta said: "GODDESS! He told Rowena Allistair that the Senior Partners wouldn’t find him where he was and they’d be afraid to wake his tenants."

Giles shook his head. "What being would be mad enough to appoint a demon, a vampire, Guardian of the Well?"

Jocasta looked at Clem.

"Angel is the Guardian of the Deeper Well, isn’t he?"

Clem nodded. "He leaves the Well whenever he gets word of a demonic plot to kill the reincarnations of one of the Scoobies. The ghost of the last guardian always comes by to warn him." Clem tilted his head. "I’ll bet he saved you once or twice, Miss Kalderash."

Janna nodded. "He was probably the one who saved me from the Mohra demon that killed my mother."

A voice interrupted them—it was Col. West’s voice. "Councilor Giles? There are four men here from the Public Health Authority. They have a court order to take Miss Kalderash to a mental hospital."

"Understood," Giles said. "Giles out."

"You gonna turn me in?" Janna asked.

"I don’t trust you yet, miss—"

Katherine said: "I’ll stay with her."

"You’ll be fugitives."

Katherine smiled. "I’ve been a fugitive before."

Jocasta scowled. "As I recall, love, that’s how our relationship began."

Janna chuckled. "I wouldn’t worry about it, Col. Rosenberg. If my dreams are any indication, I would rather sleep with a dead man than a live woman."

Jocasta grimaced. "Okay, now I understand what Willowgram means by an ‘ick factor’."

Giles said: "Wait! We need a sample of your DNA, Miss Kalderash."

"What for?"

"As blood kin, however indirect, of Buffy Summers, you may have part of the DNA we need to access the classified files."

Janna didn’t hesitate. She literally bit off one of her fingernails and tossed it to the Councilor.

Jocasta said: "Again, ick." She pulled a hair from her head.

Giles turned to Clem. "We’ll need your DNA, too—and Angel’s."

Clem said: "Angel won’t come unless someone he trusts gets him—and I’m the only friend he’s had for 126 years."

Jocasta said: "Then you and I will bring him back alive." She frowned. "Undead. Damnit, I am really beginning to hate that expression."

Clem peeled a bit of skin off one of his hands and dropped it on the tabletop. Clem stood up. "If he comes here and the Senior Partners find out—the Mohra army might come here too."

"Better here than the Deeper Well," Gunn said. "Listen, Giles, I’m no Watcher but if the stakes are that high and you need a fighter—I’m in."

Clem shrugged. "I don’t suppose it makes that big a difference—with Illyria here, you’re in big trouble anyway. She has a habit of slaughtering Wolfram & Hart offices. She never forgave them for Wesley’s death."

Janna alone recognized the name. "He was such a pompous, stupid ass when Buffy knew him."

Clem said: "The Senior Partners will probably hit this place with everything they have the instant they suspect Illyria is alive. And you might need her on your side if you all want to stay alive."

Giles said: "Miss Kalderash, why did you want the Council to kill Angel?"

"I thought if he died, the dreams would go away."

His face darkened with obvious rage. "Are those dreams so dreadful?"

"Mr. Giles, you have no idea of the depth of hatred the Kalderash feel for Angel and Buffy and Willow Rosenberg—even after all these years. If they suspected I was not just a descendent of Buffy’s father, but her reincarnation—they would kill me. Literally, kill me. I fully expect to be shunned by entire family merely for speaking with descendents of Willow Rosenberg and Rupert Giles."

"I suspect that is why the authorities are here for you—your family intends to have you officially declared insane before you can make contact with the vampire. You two had best get going," Giles said.

FADE OUT.

To be continued in, Act Three, Part One

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (4A/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: The dream sequence in Scene One is taken, once again, from the Angel episode "I Will Remember You" as transcribed at the Buffyworld.com website.

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (4A/5F)

Act Three, Part One

Scene One.

FADE IN.

Angel gets up with a sigh and moves to the chair next to her: "I'm not saying I don't want you. You know how much.. I'm just saying it's worth the wait to be sure this is right. I need to be sure you won't get hurt again."

Buffy gets up: "You know it's a good thing I didn't fantasize about you turning human only about 10 zillion times, because today would have been a real let down. - So how does the mature plan go? You call me? I call you? What?"

Angel gets up and steps over to her: "We stay in touch - just not.."

Buffy: "Literally. - Funny. (They stare at each other, then Buffy walks past him) Okay, I'd better—"

Angel turns to look after her: "Right. Remove the temptation."

Buffy spins back towards him: "So, we'll - talk soon."

Buffy puts her hand on top of his on the counter. They both stare down at their hands. Angel turns his hand to grab hers then reaches out and pulls her into a kiss. They stumble up against the fridge and Buffy jumps up to wrap her legs around his waist. Still kissing, Angel carries her over to the kitchen table, sweeps the stuff on it on the floor and lays her down on it.

Cut to:

Int., Sebastian Giles’ private skimmer.

Katherine took one hand off the controls and touched the sleeping passenger. Janna Kalderash jerked as her eyes snapped open.

"Sorry," Katherine said. Oddly, her tone of voice gave no hint of regret.

Janna sighed. "Stupid nightmare."

"F-from the sounds you were making? I hope I have nightmares like that."

Janna glared at her.

Katherine blushed slightly as she smiled at Janna Kalderash. "He sounded like a very skilled lover."

Janna blushed and looked out the window. "If memory serves—he was exquisite." Janna frowned and looked at Katherine. "Where are we going?"

"Puget Sound."

Cut to:

Int., Council Tower foyer.

Col. West stopped the young man in civilian clothes.

"I’m sorry, sir, this area is off limits to civilians."

The young man smiled. "Can you tell me where the main entrance is? I’d like to hire the Council."

"I’ll escort you, sir."

"Feels weird, having a guy your age call me sir. The name’s Connor, Connor Riley." He extended his hand.

The handsome black man shook Connor’s hand. "Col. West."

Cut to:

Int, Slayer Cadet Dorm # Eleven

Cadet Lesley Warren Meers lay in her bed, moaning loudly.

Another cadet shouted: "Will you SHUT UP! No one buys your lousy acting!"

No one, apparently, except the people who actually had authority over Cadet Meers.

Cut to:

Int., ICU, Watcher’s Council Medical Center.

Dr. Crivarro said: "You are a lucky young man, Mr. Wells. If we hadn’t had a supply of Mohra blood—"

James sat up in bed. The blood left his face, making an already pale man look downright ghastly. "You gave me DEMON blood?"

"It saved your life from the effects of the blast."

"What blast?" James asked. "I was stabbed."

"A sunlight grenade," said Lexington Harris from the door. He strode into the room. His expression was grim. For all he was in charge of R&D, his manner suggested he had a talent for security work as well. "Someone changed the access codes—someone who used a 50-year-old Councilor Code to get authorization to get at the damn things."

James frowned. "That’s impossible. No living Councilor has been alive long enough—"

"This Code belonged to a Councilor Elizabeth Meers. She died 50 years ago and someone apparently forgot to tell the computer she was dead."

"Did you say Meers?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I was stabbed by Cadet Lesley Warren Meers," James said. "My girlfriend."

"Any relation to—?"

"Maybe you should ask her."

FADE OUT.

Scene Two:

FADE IN.

Int., the Deeper Well.

Seen from the rear, he was tall with dark hair and dark clothes, including an ancient black jacket that strongly resembled the one he’d worn the morning he "died" for the third time. He paced the suspension bridge that halved the vertical, cylindrical cave with coffin-studded walls.

Clem said: "Angel, I—"

The legendary vampire turned toward the voice and, in that motion, moved out of legend and into reality.

Col. Jocasta Rosenberg and Angel stopped dead (so to speak) in their tracks and stared at one another, mouths agape.

Angel scowled at Clem. "Are you insane? Bringing her into the future?"

Clem gasped and waved his hands. "Oh, no, no, no, Angel—one time travel adventure a millennia is more than enough for me."

Jocasta looked at Clem. "When did you time travel?"

"Before you were born," Clem said. "And I guess after, too."

Angel stepped toward Clem. Jocasta stepped between them. "I won’t let you hurt him, vampire."

Angel stopped. "Don’t you remember me?"

Clem said: "She’s not Willow, Angel. Looks like her, sounds like her, smells like her—but isn’t her."

Angel gaped at the Watcher again. "All these years, you told me to go save their reincarnations and I didn’t really believe reincarnation was pos—"

"A vampire who doesn’t believe in reincarnation?" Jocasta asked.

"The subject didn’t come up when I was studying for the catechism," Angel said.

"Catechism?"

"Um—why are you here, Willow? Or—colonel? What the hell are you doing in the army?"

Jocasta sighed. "I’m not Willow, OK? I’m a direct descendent. And the Council is kinda militaristic these days."

Angel rolled his eyes. "I’ll bet money this was Rupert’s doing."

"Rupert Giles?" Jocasta asked.

Clem said: "Um, guys? Could we go over all this history stuff after we evacuate?"

Angel shook his head. "I can’t leave the Well, Clem."

"You’ve left it before," Clem said.

Jocasta added: "An army of Mohra demons are planning to attack—"

"Then I have to stay and fight. I can’t leave the Well unguarded—"

"I don’t think they’re after the Old Ones," Jocasta said. "I think they’re after you."

Clem said: "I think the Senior Partners know you’re still alive. Wherever you go—"

"Scorched Earth," Angel said. "I remember what you told me about Pylea."

"Pylea’s a myth," Jocasta said.

"It was when the Council couldn’t find me or Illyira there," Angel said.

"Look, Angel, the Watcher’s Council needs your help—"

"Since when?"

Jocasta rolled her eyes, clearly fed up. She stalked forward and began poking the vampire’s chest. "We need your DNA! Mohras wanna kill you. We will keep you safe! You! Will! Cooperate!"

She pushed him to the far end of the suspension bridge and then gave him a very, very long look of determination.

After several long, silent minutes, the legendary vampire laughed and spread his hands. "I surrender! God, I could never stand up to Resolve Face."

Jocasta’s facial expression now changed from one of resolve to one of utter confusion.

Clem said: "You were right, Angel—Resolve Face is something to see."

"What the hell are you two demons talking about?"

Angel and Clem laughed at some private joke. Clem joined the woman and the vampire. He said: "Don’t worry about the Well, Angel. The Council has everything under control."

Cut to:

Ext., Deeper Well, night.

As Willow, Angel and Clem emerged from the tree, they found themselves surrounded by at least 2,000 uniformed Slayers and Watchers, all heavily armed. Troop transport vehicles large and small filled gaps in the trees.

Angel smiled. "Wish you guys had been on my side in the ally."

FADE OUT.

Scene Three

FADE IN.

Int., Medical Wing, High Security Risk Section, Council Jail Facility.

Illyria’s eyes snapped open. She glanced down and saw that she was strapped into a bed.

"Look who’s awake," Livia said with a vicious smile.

She leaned against a wall, arms crossed. Charles Gunn III stood beside her. His expression was impossible to read.

"I have memories of you, though we have never met," Illyria said. "You must be a direct descendent of the Slayer Faith."

"Whomever," Livia said. "Why did you murder a Slayer and her Watcher?"

"To infiltrate your Council Tower and gain intelligence on my enemy."

"Mohra demons?"

Illyria snorted. "Mercenaries cannot be enemies, they can only be hired by enemies. It is usually much easier to pay they to betray their masters than to fight them."

"OK, so who are your enemies?"

"The Senior Partners and Wolfram & Hart and Enemy Management, Inc."

Livia looked at Gunn. "Do it."

"Why? So far, she’s cooperating."

"We gotta know if you can stop her—and if you’re on our side."

"You do get that I don’t like causin’ pain for the hell of it. I fight for survival, not pleasure."

"I don’t see any evidence of you fightin’ at all, Gunn."

Illyria said: "His ancestor was a warrior. Courage runs in his blood. If he has to fight me, he shall do so though he knows his death is the certain result."

"You two dating?" Livia asked.

"Charles Gunn and Winifred Burkle were lovers once," Illyria said. She transformed herself into Fred.

Gunn and Livia whistled. The Slayer nudged the man. "Your great grandpappy nailed a hot one."

"I’m really not your enemy," said "Fred."

"You murdered two innocent bystanders," Livia said.

"I once wondered how a race so weak could be so fond of war," Illyria said. She tilted her head—and returned to her blue look. "Now I wonder how a race so fond of war could be so ignorant of its true nature: War devours life. It is like a ruler—no more moral than a hurricane."

With those words, Illyria sat up in the bed—snapping the binds that were supposed to hold her in place.

Men in guard uniforms ran in and shot her with weapons that fired the same purple beam that felled Clem.

The weapon did no more than irritate Illyria.

Livia rushed her and Illyria punched her. That sent the Slayer flying, quite literally, through a wall.

Gunn used both hands to throw lightening bolts at Illyria.

And there the two of them stood for the better part of five minutes, joined only by the writhing waves of electricity that flowed from man into demon.

Gunn’s eyes rolled back. The lightening bolts vanished. Gunn fell forward.

So did Illyria.

Livia managed to get back on her feet and staggered over to Gunn. She knelt beside him and checked his pulse. "He’s alive."

She went to Illyira next. "No pulse, but the chest is moving."

Cut to:

Int, Slayer Cadet Dorm # Eleven

Cadet Lesley Warren Meers was still in her bed, still moaning for all who cared to hear—and all who didn’t care to hear—when 12 men in uniform marched into the dorm room.

"Cadet Meers! You will report to Internal Security for questioning."

Meers rolled her eyes. "They can’t be that arrogant."

She rolled out of bed—and charged the armed men.

They actually had time to draw their pistols.

But none had time to fire.

Cut to:

Int., Watchers Council Hangar Bay.

A guard stepped into Cadet Meers’ path.

"I’m sorry, Cadet, but only Slayers and Watch—"

She jammed a pistol under his chin.

Cut to:

Ext, Council Tower.

A skimmer shot from the tower and turned East, toward New York.

Cut to:

Int., Council skimmer.

Cadet Meers drove. Beside her, the guard was either asleep—or dead.

She reached over and put her right thumb to his neck.

"Alive. Good. I may need a hostage." She sighed. "Man, I was hoping to finish this thing in this damned life."

FADE OUT.

To be continued in Act Three, Part Two

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (4B/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT:

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (4B/5F)

Act Three, Part Two

Scene Four

FADE IN.

Ext., Aurora Summers’ Villa.

The two blondes exited the skimmer.

"The Council pays you Slayers pretty darn well," Janna Kalderash said.

"This house belonged to a Summers woman," Katherine said. "She’s dead now."

"Summers women die a lot," Janna said.

Cut to:

Int., Aurora’s livingroom.

"She left us the passcodes in her will," Katherine said. "I never had a chance to really take a good look at this place."

Janna started to take a seat, but Katherine disappeared through a doorway and Janna, rolling her eyes, followed.

They stopped in Aurora’s bedroom. It hadn’t changed a whit since the owner died.

Janna looked at the ancient photographs hanging on the walls. "She must’ve spent a fortune to preserve these."

"L-look." Katherine pointed.

In one photo, Janna Kalderash’s exact double was hugging Jocasta Rosenberg’s exact double. The women grinned from ear to ear. In the background were doubles for Lexington Harris and Katherine herself.

"One big, happy family," Janna said. "They loved each other so, they should have been a real family."

Katherine said: "I had a reason for bringing you here."

"To jar more of Buffy’s memories?"

"To jar the truth out of you," Katherine said.

Silence.

"Your story doesn’t hold up, Janna. If you really think you’re family will kill you for being Buffy’s reincarnation—"

"It would not even dawn on them to hesitate," Janna said as she touched the Buffy/Willow photograph. "They thought they’d be friends forever."

"—then you put yourself in danger just by coming to the Council. We’ve fought vampires together—you aren’t that stupid. And your so-called motive? Wanting Angel dead so the dreams would go away? That story stinks too. Only a coward would have a person—or even a vampire—killed because they don’t like their dreams. You are no coward, Buffy."

"I can’t let him see me."

"Who? Angel?"

"If he saw my face—"

"I’m sure he’d be overjoyed," Katherine said.

"That’s what scares the hell out of me."

FADE OUT.

Scene Five

FADE IN.

Int., Council Hangar bay.

The troop transport landed in the hanger without incident. The exterior door slid shut. Jocasta was the first to emerge. She looked around carefully. "No sunlight leaking through. You can come out now, Mr. Angel."

Angel hesitantly stuck his head out. "Man, every time I think humans can’t surprise me—they do it again."

He stepped out and looked back inside the vehicle. Clem and six men clad in Council Black Ops uniforms got out. The armed men never took their eyes, or their weapons, off the vampire.

"I know it seems unfair, Mr. Angel—"

Angel looked at Jocasta. "Call me Angel. I gave up last names a while ago."

"You gonna stop calling me Willow? Because it is really kinda creepy."

"Imagine how I feel. Last time I saw your face, your grandmother wasn’t even alive."

"OK, again with the ick factor."

Angel looked at the special operatives. "You guys do realize that if I wanted to hurt you, you’d already be dead?"

The six men smiled.

Angel looked at Jocasta. "May I?"

She hesitated, then said: "Don’t injure them."

"Maybe their pride."

Angel yanked a gun from one man’s hands—used the butt to smash a second man in the face, elbowed a third, kicked a fourth in his kneecap, kicked a fifth in this chest and pinned the sixth man to the ground.

Didn’t even break a sweat.

"Your boys need better training," Angel said. "Be happy to help when this is over."

"Let him up."

One of the men snatched up a pistol, but Jocasta ordered him to stand down. "Take the others to the Medical Center for check ups. The vampire did you a favor. If you’d been taken like that by a normal vamp, you’d all be snacks now. C’mon, Angel, Clem."

Cut to:

Int., Council Conference Room.

They gawked at him. Sebastian Giles, Lexington Harris, James Wells, even Livia herself gawked at the vampire.

"You sure he has a soul?" Lexington asked.

Giles coughed. "Excuse me, sir, but if we could have your DNA—"

Jocasta said: "Have Willowgram scan him. That should open those damned files."

Angel said: "Willowgram?"

And speak of the holographic-image-of-the-devilishly beautiful Willow Rosenberg, Willowgram appeared in the Council room. "Hi, guys. Hey! Angel! Long time no see!"

Angel’s knees buckled. Lexington and Sebastian rushed to him and helped him into a chair. "I’m confused," said the vampire.

"With you, pal," Lexington said.

Angel muttered, "De’ja’ vu all over again."

Willowgram said: "Scanning DNA. Yep, it’s you, Angel. I can start decrypting those files now."

"How long will that take?" Giles asked.

"Oh, wow, there’s a lotta stuff about Angel that’s been classified by a whole lot of people . . . five hours?"

Angel rolled his eyes. "Technology!"

Jocasta said: "Maybe you can give us some of the answers now. Why would an army of Mohra demons wanna go after you?"

"My friends and I murdered the Circle of the Black Thorn," Angel said. "They’ll want revenge for that. Hell, they turned an army on us—including a dragon." Angel smiled. "I killed it."

"And somehow you survived, even though your friends died," Lexington said.

Angel shook his head. "I didn’t survive. I was on the dragon’s back, I drove the blade into it’s neck and up, to pierce the brain, and something hit me in my back. An arrow. Next thing I knew, I was dust. Next thing after that, I was in the Deeper Well."

For reasons that were never clear to the Watchers of 2130, the vampire actually blushed.

"Someone brought you back," Giles said. "Illyria?"

Angel shook his head. "No, if what Rowena Allistair told me is true—is she here, like the rest of you?"

The others stared at him.

Clem said: "Many of you resemble your ancestors, even if you aren’t actually reincarnations. It’s really very disturbing."

Jocasta gave Angel a very sad look. "Must be tough. 126 years in a cemetery and you come out to find all your old friends are dead—but total strangers have their faces."

"Gonna take a little adjusting," Angel said.

Livia said: "How come the Mohra are huntin’ you now? You’ve been MIA a while now."

Angel said: "No one knew I was still alive. Once I was back, once I agreed to replace the Guardian of the Deeper Well, I asked Rowena Allistair not to tell anyone—especially not Willow. Anyone who knew I was alive was in danger."

"But you endangered Rowena Allistair," Giles said. "Why?"

Col. West entered the room with Connor Riley at his side. "I believe this young man can answer that question."

Angel turned even more pale than his natural shade—which was something rather disturbing to see. "Connor."

The young man smiled as if this were all perfectly normal—and perfectly cool.

"Hi, granddad."

Cut to:.

Int., a business executive’s office.

"We don’t get a lot of vampires in here," Evelyn Ssoj III said.

"He should expand his horizons, shouldn’t he, pet?" Drusilla asked.

She sat, as was her wont, in Mr. Kalderash’s lap. She nibbled his ear, much as a human female might. Sean Rayne sat in an adjacent chair. He seemed oblivious.

"We have the location of the Deeper Well," Rayne said.

"So do we," Ssoj said. "And according to our spy satellites, it is well protected by several brigades of Slayers." He frowned. "Or would platoon be the correct word? Division? Corps?"

Kalderash said: "The vampire Angel must be found and destroyed."

"Bored with vengeance?"

"If he lives, the Senior Partners will destroy this world," Kalderash said. "I do not wish to be destroyed."

Ssoj shrugged. "What’s in it for me?"

"Money," said Kalderash. "Our firm has funds enough to raid any corporation we wish—yours, or the Watcher’s Council."

Ssoj smiled. "OK, now that’s an offer I don’t want to refuse."

FADE OUT.

Scene Six

FADE IN.

Int., Aurora Summers’ bedroom.

Janna and Katherine sat on the foot of Aurora’s bed. Janna stared at the floor.

"I have all of Buffy’s memories," she said. "I remember when Hank and Joyce Summers brought her sister Dawn home from the hospital. I remember when she first kissed Angel. I remember when she first saw his fangs—right after the first kiss."

Katherine raised her eyebrows.

Janna continued. "I remember when Angel told her about the damned curse. We Kalderash gave him a soul—and a conscience—so that he could suffer. But giving him a guilt trip wasn’t enough. We didn’t just want to punish him, we wanted to punish anyone who did not share our hatred of him."

Katherine waited.

"If Angel felt a moment of true happiness, perfect and unbridled and unreserved happiness, he would lose his soul and go on a killing spree." Janna looked at Katherine. "He was 240 years old when he met Buffy. She was the first love of his life. Can you imagine how he must have felt when he learned she loved him back?"

"To live that long without giving or receiving love . . . that would be a curse all by itself," Katherine said. "I imagine he felt wonderful when he met Buffy."

"I think at first he thought it was just a dream. He tried to discourage her, but living on the Sunnydale Hellmouth threw them together. The Chosen One of her generation and the only Souled Vampire in the world. Of course they fell in love. Of course they acted on it."

"You were dreaming about one of the times they made love," Katherine said.

"The only time," Janna said. "Buffy gave him her virginity. And a moment of perfect happiness. He became Angelus again."

Both women were silent. Perhaps Katherine sensed the ugliness that would come. She moved closer to Janna, took one of the petite blonde’s hands into both of her own.

"Angelus tried to murder Willow. Angelus murdered a Kalderash man—to keep him from giving Buffy any information. Not that I think he would have. Then Angelus told Buffy’s mom that they’d had sex. Angelus killed Willow’s pet fish. Angelus attacked Xander. Angelus turned one of Buffy’s friends into a vampire and she leapt out of her coffin to try to kill Buffy. When Buffy was sick, Angelus tried to visit her in the hospital. When a Kalderash woman—she called herself Jenny Calendar, but her real name was Janna Kalderash—"

Katherine gasped.

Janna nodded. "When that Janna tried to restore his soul, Angelus broke her neck. Then he took her corpse to Rupert Giles’ home. He decorated the entire apartment with flowers and candles. Giles found the love of his life in their bed—stone cold, gazing lifelessly at the ceiling. Angelus and two other vampires tried to raise the Judge, one of the worst demons in history, and Buffy stopped the Judge. Angelus tried to destroy the world—and Buffy sent him to Hell to stop it. But Angel came back from Hell."

"Angel or Angelus?"

"Angel. In the last moment before Buffy killed him, Willow re-ensoulled him. It was years before the Kalderash learned what she had done. After Angel’s return from Hell they tried to put their relationship back together—the demon actually took the Slayer to the Senior Prom of all things—but Angel left Sunnydale to build a new life—and to serve the Powers That Be."

Katherine asked Janna to look at her. Tears ran down the Kalderash heir’s face.

Katherine said: "That still doesn’t explain why you want Angel dead now."

"Don’t you get it? I look like Buffy—Clem even said I smell like her."

"So?"

"So what do you think Angel would feel after spending more than a century in a grave yard, with no one but Clem for companionship, if he suddenly saw and smelled the first love of his life again after all those lonely years?"

Katherine paled. "He’d feel—"

"Perfect happiness. And that would be bad."

To be continued in Act Three, Part three.

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (4C/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT:

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (4C/5F)

Act Three, Part Three

Scene Seven

FADE IN.

Int., Council Conference room.

Col. West asked permission to be excused and Councilor Giles granted the request.

"You—you’re my great-grandson?"

Connor smiled.

Lexington Harris strode quickly toward Connor and shoved a cross in his face.

Connor snatched the cross from his hand and tossed it to the red head. "Your friend needs to learn his manners."

Jocasta smiled. "Lex has his faults, but he means well. Sit down, Lex. This man is no more a vampire than I’m a guy."

"You are definitely not a guy," Connor said.

Angel shook his head. "You look exactly like your grandfather. You even act like him."

Jocasta teasingly said: "You must’ve had hell to deal with when he was a teenager."

Connor spoke to Angel as if Jocasta had not spoken at all. "The look seems to run in the family. Probably has something to do with the fact that granddad’s biological parents were both vampires."

Jocasta shook her head. "Vampires don’t breed that way."

"I think the fact Angel here has a soul kinda junked the rule book," Connor said.

"Sir, why are you here?" Giles asked.

"We always figured, my family, I mean, that if the Mohras started attacking in force in meant that dad had either survived or managed to escape Hell again—and I was supposed to find him and give him a message from Drogyn."

Angel stared at him in absolute befuddlement.

Connor said: "Drogyn told my grandfather to tell me: Mohra blood heals all flesh that walks. I’m not sure exactly what it means, but I think it means you can forget about that Perfect Happiness curse."

Jocasta asked him what he was talking about.

"The Kalderash curse. If he feels—"

"Janna Kalderash!" Lexington Harris said. "She wanted us to kill Angel."

Angel shook his head. "The whole point of the curse was to make me suffer. Dead, my suffering is ov . . . did you say Janna Kalderash? I killed Janna Kalderash in the 20^th century!"

"Descendent, I guess," Lexington said. "They raised her to hate your guts. Even gave her the name of a woman you killed."

Giles said: "Perhaps because they suspected she was . . . someone you knew."

Angel looked at him. "Could you explain that in plain English?"

Giles looked at Jocasta. "You’re the magic expert here, Jo. Should we tell him?"

"Not until I know all the details of this curse. Something is going on here and I don’t just think it’s a family feud. Too many coincidences. The Kalderash, the Mohra, Angel, Cadet Meers’ attacks on James—"

Angel suddenly seemed angry, rather than confused, and he was clearly more at home with that emotion. "Did you say Meers? Warren Meers?"

"Lesley Warren Meers," Jocasta said.

"Willow murdered a man named Meers," Angel said.

Jocasta shook her head. "Willow would never do that."

Willowgram said: "Um, Jocasta? That’s true. I did murder a man."

"Why in Goddess’ name would you do something so . . . evil?"

"He shot Buffy and a stray bullet killed my Tara."

Giles looked at Jocasta. "The dreams you had about Tara. You were witnessing her murder—as Willow must have seen it."

Willowgram said: "A stray bullet killed Tara. I tried to bring her back the way I did Buffy—"

The Watchers all said, "Huh?" in perfect unison.

The vampire explained: "The second time Buffy died, Willow resurrected her. I don’t know all the details, but I always assumed Willow flipped when she couldn’t resurrect Tara too."

Willowgram said: "Buffy died a supernatural death. Tara’s death was, quote, a human death by human means, close quote. And Angel’s right. When Osiris told Willow that—I went postal." The hologram hung her head in shame. "I did things that Angelus woulda found gross."

Angel gave the Willowgram a puzzled look, as if she had described something that violated all the known laws of nature. Then he spoke: "And Warren Meers’ mother returned the favor a couple of years later. She teamed up with a demon named D’Hoffryn and the Kalderash clan to kidnap Willow and a werewolf named Nina Ash—and they used magic to raise both Warren and Tara, well sort of raised them, just so Warren could murder Tara in front of Willow’s eyes over and over again. Miraculously, Willow kept her sanity—and resisted the urge to commit yet another murder. Willow’s file disappeared from Wolfram & Hart archives right after that."

Lexington and Giles looked at Jocasta again.

She said: "That shouldn’t be possible. Those files can’t be copied, removed, burned or shredded. We’ve been attacking W&H hard copies and databases for over a century and it just can’t be done. What he just described would require . . . divine intervention."

"I always suspected that somebody up there liked Willow," Angel said. "Everyone but her damned parents and the kids at Sunnydale High loved her from the start. Hell, I loved her."

Giles said: "I dislike coincidence—I detest current events. There are too many coincidences here. It appears the Meers family have infiltrated the Council—"

Clem said: "I knew about that years ago."

Now all eyes turned to the wrinkled demon with the gentle eyes.

Clem said: "Mrs. Meers sold her soul to Wolfram & Hart. Rowena Allistair cursed Warren so that he would always come back as a woman. I guess because he was a rapist and a woman killer in life. Wesley Wyndam-Pryce added to the curse that Warren would remember his crimes in his dreams. I guess the idea was to give him a guilty conscience."

Angel said: "I’ve had one of those for a long time—it doesn’t make me any less dangerous."

"I noticed," Jocasta said. She looked at Giles. "We gotta improve our black ops training."

Clem said: "Mrs. Meers also arranged to come back as mother to her son’s female reincarnations. If you have one Meers in this place, there’s another Meers somewhere nearby."

Lexington raised his hand. "A dumb question. Why is all this happening now? How the hell did the Senior Partners find out this guy is still with us?"

No one had the answer—but it was obviously the most important question anyone had asked so far.

Livia had been silent until that moment, but she spoke: "We’ve got Illyria in custody. Any chance you can help keep her that way? At least until Gunn recovers?"

Lexington Harris, meantime, asked himself softly, over and over: "How the hell did they find out he was alive?"

"Gunn’s here?" Angel asked.

Clem said: "I told him he’d be surprised at all the familiar faces there were around here."

"I don’t suppose . . . " Angel shook his head. "No. That would be better than I ever deserved."

Clem gently petted the vampire’s shoulder, as if to comfort him. But he positioned himself so Angel couldn’t see his face as he looked at Jocasta—and shook his head "no."

As if to say: Don’t tell him she is back again.

FADE OUT.

Scene Eight

FADE IN.

Int., Watcher’s Council Medical Center.

Angel looked at the unconscious man on the bed.

"It isn’t him. I mean, it looks like him, but—"

Clem said: "He told me your Gunn slept with some woman named Gwen—"

Angel scowled. "While he was still with Fred? He’s lucky he died a century ago or I’d kick his ass for that."

Jocasta smiled. "Loyalty. I’m beginning to like you, vampire."

Livia stared at her.

"Oh, come on, after what the High Command did, you really think this whole Good and Evil thing is as cut and dried as we were taught?"

Livia shrugged. "I guess not, it’s just . . . strange, thinkin’ that we’re all just reruns of ourselves. And that a vampire teamin’ up with Slayers is actually old news."

"Not exactly reruns," Angel said. "But you have to remind me to tell you about a girl named Faith."

"Oh, she was my fave subject in Slayer History 101. Only character from Sunnydale didn’t bore my ass off."

He smiled. "Would’ve been really interesting to see you two in the same room."

"That similar?"

"You could say that." Angel frowned. "Are you saying that I bored your ass off?"

Jocasta suddenly looked very nervous. "Livia? Ale-may ide-pray is angerous-day."

The vampire grinned. "Jocasta? Pig Latin was old when I was human. Hell, it was old when my father was a boy."

Jocasta looked chagrined.

Livia shook her head in wonder. "You’re genuinely fond a her, ain’t ya, vamp?"

"Almost as good as having Willow back," he said. "I should have spent more time with her. Willow needed a friend a lot more than Buffy needed a lover with a curse."

"What exactly was the curse part? I mean, I get stickin’ you with a conscience—sounds like a good deal for everybody. You stop killin’ folks and you even get some love. Where’s the vengeance?"

"If I ever feel at peace, I lose my soul and become a sadistic killer again."

"Peace? With all the emotional baggage you must have? C’mon, guy, how could you poss . . . " Livia’s voice trailed off and the blood left her face. "Aw, jeez. You felt forgiven ’cause if a Slayer of all people could love you . . . An’ I bet hitting the sack for the first time—"

"Only," Angel said. "And I really do not want to talk about it."

Livia shook her head. "Now that is one damned cold curse. They couldn’t be satisfied with punishing you, they had to torture anyone who loved you on top of that? I mean, I’ve dusted more vamps than I can count but I never went to their former families and bragged about it."

"I would’ve—when I was Angelus. Of course, that’s the big difference between a Slayer and a killer." He glanced at Jocasta. "Some of the best and brightest people never quite grasped that."

"Yeah, well it sounds like the Kalderash turned into the thing they hated," Livia said. "I never thought I’d say this to a vamp, but . . . you wanna kick some Kalderash butt, count me in. Long as you don’t bite their necks."

Jocasta said: "I’m not so sure that’d be a good idea, Livia. There’d be too great a risk of collateral damage."

Angel shook his head. "I haven’t fed on a human being in long time, Jocasta."

"She means me, vampire. I’m kinda destructive in combat."

"Like Cuchulain," Angel said.

They stared at him.

"Mythical warrior-hero of ancient Ireland," Angel said.

"Are you sure he’s a myth?" Jocasta asked. "’Cause around here, we run into a lot of walking myths. You, for example."

"I’ve been meaning to ask about that," Angel said. "Is there a Hellmouth in this area?"

Livia laughed. "Cleveland’s a Hellmouth."

Clem muttered something.

"Oh, well, that damned near explains everything," Angel said.

Jocasta suggested they get to Illyria’s cell/hospital ward.

"Will Gunn be OK?"

Jocasta shrugged. "Hard to say. There aren’t a lot of humans quite like him."

"There never were," Angel said. "When he wakes up, I’d like to meet him."

"If he agrees, we’ll set it up," Jocasta said.

The moved out of the room and through a series of corridors until they found Illyria’s new prison.

As they approached, they heard "Fred" ask: "Why are you being so mean to me, honey? I’m just a girl."

Angel said: "That girl is millions of years old—and the most dangerous killer walking the Earth."

He and Livia, Jocasta and Clem stepped in front of the cell that was flanked by two guards armed with anti-tank weapons.

Fred was on the floor, wrapped in an old-fashioned straight jacket. She saw Angel, smiled, and turned into Illyria. "The half-breed returns. Is the white haired one with us once more?"

"Spike’s gone for good, as far as I know."

"I have memories of the women. Fred remembers the red head as Willow, the brunette as Faith. Fred did not realize until much later that Willow lusted for her."

"Why are you here, Illyria?"

"You know why, Angel. To avenge Wesley."

"He died a long time ago—we all did. Time to let the dead rest and let the living get on with their lives."

"They do not deserve their lives."

"I agree, but you know something? We don’t get to make that call."

"When I ruled, I made that ‘call’ at a mere whim."

"When I was evil I made that call for a laugh or just something to do. But I’m not Angelus anymore and you don’t rule anymore."

"I will fight so long as the Senior Partners exist."

"Then I’ll have to destroy you."

"You failed to destroy me before—what makes you think you will succeed now?"

"Because I don’t quit—or have you forgotten that?"

"I remember that you took my advice once."

"And look where it got me."

"You lived."

"Alone, with only one frightened friend to my name, while everyone I loved grew old and died. I’m sick of this, Illyria. You aren’t fighting a war—you’re just slaughtering people and demons to avoid the fact that you don’t belong in this reality any more."

"You once advised me to cease speechifying, vampire. I give you that same advice. Join me or fight me, that choice is yours to make, but do not tire me with your endless chatter. It is like the taste of offal in my mouth."

Angel put his finger to his lips and motioned for the others to follow him.

They stopped again beside Charles Gunn III’s bed.

Angel turned to the red head. "Jocasta, do you know much about magic?"

"I’m no Willow Rosenberg—anymore—but I have cast a few good spells."

"Clem, tell Willow—I’m sorry—tell Jocasta how Willow beat Illyria."

"Willow took Illyria’s energy from her and then used it to send her into space. Maybe if you took enough of Illyira’s energy—at the same time the third Gunn here hit her with some of his energy . . . "

Jocasta nodded. "That might work. But are you sure you want to do that? Winifred Burkle was your friend."

"Yeah, and if her soul hadn’t been consumed by Illyria’s resurrection—"

"That’s impossible, Angel. A soul is energy. It can’t be destroyed. I’m pretty sure of that."

"Illyria said—"

Livia scoffed. "You of all people believed a demon?"

Jocasta said: "Even if she was telling the truth, that doesn’t mean what she said was true."

All eyes looked at the red head. She blushed.

"I mean, a guy who thinks he’s Napoleon is telling the truth—but what he says isn’t really true, is it?"

Angel looked at her. "Do you think you could do it? Bring Fred back to us?"

"Be worth a stab in the dark," Jocasta said. "But if it doesn’t work—we might have to kill your friend."

"War is like that," said the vampire with a soul.

FADE OUT.

Scene Nine

FADE IN.

Int., Aurora Summers’ villa, night.

Katherine said: "When did you realize Angel was alive?"

Janna shrugged. "I think it was the first time I dreamed about . . . loving him. I’ve never been with a man; I’ve read very little about sex . . . but it seemed so damned real. And somehow . . . I could . . . feel him . . . in the same world with me. Not all the time, but . . . many times. I don’t think he ever saw me, but . . . "

"When did you first realize you were the reincarnation of Buffy?"

"Mr. Rayne suggested it first."

"Rayne? Sean Rayne?"

"You know my daddy’s friends?"

"No, I know a power drunk evil ex-Watcher named Sean Rayne."

"We’ve been set up—all of us."

Katherine nodded. "I wonder what his plan is."

"If he’s anything like his ancestor Ethan Rayne—maybe just chaos for the sake of chaos. Buffy—I—remember things he did one Halloween night that nearly got half of Sunnydale killed."

"Some families need to change their traditions," Katherine said.

"We have to warn the Council."

"We have to stay here," Katherine said. "Jocasta will know how to protect us. We just have to trust her. Besides, if Clem brings Angel back to the Council—"

"OK, then, we stay here. Where it’s safe."

A female voice, speaking in a British accent, said: "Safe! I love it when humans think they’re safe!"

Janna and Katherine jumped to their feet. They both instantly took fighter’s stances.

A fact that did not seem to bother either of the two armed men standing before Drusilla in the doorway.

Mr. Kalderash and Sean Rayne, each holding a pistol aimed at a different Slayer.

Drusilla licked Mr. Kalderash’s neck. He blushed. "Not in front of my daughter, Drusilla."

"It’s naughty to be prudish," Drusilla said. To Janna, she said: "I promise I won’t kill you, Slayer. Not until after your Angel has seen your pretty face again—and my Angelus has come back to me."

FADE OUT.

To be continued in Act Four, Part One

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5A/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: It was Meg_1970 who inspired, with an innocent comment, the conclusion of this installment. I should also warn you that this one is rather heavy on exposition and backstory. Sorry, but it’s a must.

SUMMARY: See the first installment entitled "Restoration: Not Forgotten"

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5A/5F)

Act Four, Part one

Scene One

FADE IN.

Ext., Seattle skyline, day.

Int., executive suite of Enemy Management, Inc.

Maxine and Lesley Meers stood side by side before Mr. Ssoj’s desk. They looked at him with imploring eyes.

Mr. Ssoj sat behind his desk, his back to a window. He looked bored out of his skull.

"I don’t see how I can help either of you," he said. "Especially a rouge Slayer with a Council security guard bound and gagged in her stolen skimmer."

Lady Maxine Meers crossed her arms. She was a tall 50-something beauty and time had been comparatively kind to her face and her body. Laugh lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth indicated she had not had cosmetic surgery. "We’ve served—"

"Past tense," Mr. Ssoj said. "Now that girl-Warren has exposed herself—and very clumsily, I might add—I have a feeling you won’t be able to spy on the Council in your future incarnations. And that makes you worthless to the Senior Partners, Enemy Management—and to me."

He leaned back in his chair and placed his hands behind his back.

Behind the Meers women, mother and daughter, a door slid open.

Two vampires stood behind the women.

"Sire them," Ssoj said.

Maxine Meers lunged across the desk as her daughter turned to fight the vampires.

Cut to:

Ext., Seattle offices of Enemy Management, Inc.

Mr. Ssoj opened the skimmer door, pulled the unconscious Council guard out of his seat and dropped him onto the ground. Ssoj then drew a pistol, placed it against the man’s head—and stopped.

"We can use you."

He picked up the unconscious man as though he were nothing more than a scrap of paper and carried him inside.

Cut to:

Int., main office of Enemy Management, Inc.

Eight men and the two Meers women lay dead on the floor. The two women had blood on their mouths and chins. Mr. Ssoj’s secretary was slumped over her desk. Her blank eyes and the knife in her neck suggested she was dead.

Ssoj dropped the guard at the vampire’s feet. "Sire this one as soon as you can. When he rises, come up with a story about how he escaped from these two and send him back to the Council. The insignia should get him an invitation—and put a demon on the Council payroll."

"Sir?" the vampire said. "That place is chock-full of windows. There’s so much sunlight—"

Ssoj sighed. "Well, then, get him inside and see if he can do some damage to them. It would be nice to see those Council creeps suffer." He glanced at a chronometer on the wall. "I have to see someone about vengeance."

FADE OUT.

Scene Two

FADE IN.

Ext., Council Assault Transport, in flight, evening.

Cut to:

Int., Council Assault Transport.

Angel sat between Col. Jocasta Rosenberg and Slayer Livia Hansen. Livia slept while seated upright. Her eyes were open, but the sound of her snoring made it clear she was asleep.

Angel leaned over and whispered to Jocasta: "Wil—I’m sorry, Col. Rosenberg—how does she do that?"

Jocasta shrugged and whispered: "Special talent. Saved her life a couple times, I hear."

The other Slayers on the transport just stared at him, their arms crossed over their chests. If the stares bothered Angel, he gave no sign. Perhaps a vampire with a soul expects to be an outcast.

Jocasta leaned forward and rubbed her temples.

"You OK?"

"Oh, sure, I’m just nifty."

"People still say nifty?"

She scowled at the vampire. "Your outfit isn’t exactly the current fashion."

He smiled.

She eyed him warily. "You know, it is just a little creepy that you act like we’re old friends."

"You don’t think that’s possible?"

"Still trying to wrap my brains around you being real, having a great grandson, having a soul, having had an affair with a Slayer—"

"Bull," Angel said.

All the Slayers on board, except the sleeping Livia, stiffened.

"What’s with them?"

"People usually don’t use that kind of language around Watchers," Jocasta said. "Especially not vampires."

"You want to tell me what’s really stressing you?"

"Oh, gee, I’ve got so many things to choose from—"

"You’re worried the spell won’t work?"

"It’s a simple enough spell—but the number of Mohra I gotta cast it on makes it pretty tough."

"Willow drew strength, sometimes literally, from her friends. You could draw from a Slayer—"

"And leave some poor girl defenseless against a demonic army? No, no, I couldn’t."

Angel offered her his right hand, palm up. "I won’t be needing any strength. Not if the plan works."

"Yeah, but that could put you in danger."

"I hate to tell you this, Jocasta Rosenberg, but that’s not exactly a new experience."

"You seem pretty damned comfortable with all this."

"I’m not. That last thing I want is to die—again! But stopping the Mohra isn’t enough. We’ve got to convince the Senior Partners that I’m gone. And that means we, I, have to take a few risks."

Livia moaned softly in her sleep. "Col-OH-nel!"

Angel gaped at Livia, then looked at Willow.

"Oh, no, no, my girlfriend would kill me. Livia’s dreaming about Col. West. The guy who brought your great grandson to the office?"

"Appropriate," Angel said.

"Don’t tell me—you knew him back in the good old days?"

"I’ve never had good old days, Col. Rosenberg—"

"Call me Jocasta—NOT Willow!" She gave him a low energy version of Resolve Face.

"I’ll try to behave." He chuckled, as if he remembered a favorite joke.

Cut to:

Arial view, Beverly Hills, sunset.

Cut to:

A Beverly Hills street.

Mohras continued marching as the Troop Transport began its descent.

Cut to:

Ext., Seattle office, Enemy Management, Inc.

Cut to:

Moon, rising.

Cut to:

Int., Enemy Management, Inc.

Maxine and Lesley Meers’ eyes snapped open. Mother and daughter leapt to their feet. Both their foreheads turned from smooth to lumpy. Their teeth morphed into fangs. They looked around.

"All dead," whined the former Cadet Vampire Slayer, now just a vampire.

"Never mind them," her mother said. "We have to find Jocasta Rosenberg."

"Why bother? Neither of us is coming back now—are we?"

Mrs. Meers frowned. "You know, that never dawned on me. You’re probably right. Our souls probably can’t come back as long as our bodies are here. Which makes it even more important for us to find Jocasta."

"Why?"

Mrs. Meers smiled. "If we sire her and dump her in the ocean, she can’t come back or be re-ensoulled or resurrected. She won’t exist anymore—and neither will her damned bloodline. We’ll win."

Cadet Meers rolled her undead eyes. "Yeah, mom, a real victory, whoopee!"

Maxine Meers frowned. "Unless she made the same contingency plan we did—to store our eggs."

"Mom? Lotta Watchers and Slayers do that as soon as they’re old enough. It’s such a dangerous life—"

"The Council will probably destroy your eggs," said Mrs. Meers. "Now, we have to think of a way to destroy the Rosenberg Witches eggs before we kill her. That way, no matter what happens, the Rosenberg bloodline ceases forever."

FADE OUT.

Scene Three

FADE IN.

Ext., Aurora Summers’ house.

Cut to:

Int., Aurora Summers’ bedroom.

None of the five people had moved very much during the last several hours. Sean Rayne and Mr. Kalderash stood just inside the bedroom, Drusilla still stood in the doorway, and the two blondes sat on the bed.

Katherine was trying to reason with Rayne.

"Y-you c-can’t really believe that—"

Janna studied her father intensely—so much so her intense gaze clearly made him nervous.

He wore a crucifix around his neck and his chest was moving. Ditto Sean Rayne.

Janna looked at Drusilla. "You do know you won’t get Angelus back, right?"

"Once he sees your face—"

"If I’m a hostage he won’t feel perfect happiness," Janna said. "If you let me go, he’s going to suspect a trap—and he won’t feel perfect happiness. You blew it, Drusilla. Angel is beyond your reach. A simple glamour to make yourself look like me would have done the job—but you didn’t think of it."

Drusilla kissed Mr. Kalderash. "Tell your girl to shut up, lover."

Janna said: "To use an expression—EW!"

"You will speak of me with respect, Janna."

"You lost that when you started up with her," Janna said. "Or didn’t you think I’d find out about you and Drusilla? The family knows her almost as well as we know Angelus. Remember what she and Darla and Spike did to our clan after we cursed him? They killed three times as many Kalderash as Angelus ever did."

Her father shrugged. "It is not justice we serve, but vengeance."

"I am so sick of vengeance," Janna said. "This is the 21^st century, father! That war is so long over . . . I swear, I wish I wasn’t a Kalderash. I wish there a vengeance demon who would make me forget I was a Kalderash—just to punish the rest of the damned Kalderash clan!"

A male voice from somewhere behind Drusilla said: "Now that might be arranged—if you really mean it."

It was Mr. Ssoj, with a big grin on his face and a pistol in his hand.

Kalderash glared at him. "You work for me!"

"Enemy Mangement, Inc. works for the highest bidder," Ssoj said. "At the moment, that is Miss Drusilla—although she has some competition."

Kalderash became livid. "You said you didn’t like vampires. You said you didn’t know her!"

Ssoj chuckled. "No, I said we don’t get many vampires at Enemy Management, Inc. We don’t—the whole point is to trick the good guys into thinking we’re on their side."

Janna said: "You do realize we’re gonna tell the whole world that you’re not one of the good guys."

"Miss Kalderash—or should I call you Buffy—you’ve been declared mentally ill," Ssoj said. "So even if you manage to escape this place alive—nothing you say will hold up in court."

Janna glared at her father. "You gave up your own daughter to this cadja?"

Katherine said: "H-how did you f-find us?"

Sean Rayne spoke for the first time in hours. "Probate court records are still public, Katherine—I had a feeling you might come here, once I learned that Aurora Summer left you her pass codes to this place."

The two blonde women looked at each other and Katherine said: "CUT POWER!"

Naturally, all the lights went out—and Ssoj, Mr. Kalderash, Sean Rayne and Drusilla were in a pitch-dark house with two extremely angry women with Slayer strength.

Cut to:

Int., Sebastian Giles’ private office.

Giles sat in the dark, stroking his chin. Willowgram stood, in miniature, on his desk, her arms behind her back, waiting expectantly.

"Rerun program."

"You sure, Councilor? The answer hasn’t changed since the last time you—"

"Re. Run. The. Bloody. Program."

"Yes, sir. This is a summary of all classified documents relating to the vampire with a soul and the Mohra. In 2004, Rupert Giles and Robin Woods discovered a fragment of an ancient scroll known as the Shanshu prophesy. The document was ancient, but recent signed in blood by Angel. The document, translated, predicted that a vampire with a soul would become human again. The signature on the document pretty much meant Angel signed away his chance to be a person again. Giles and Woods declared the document top secret and never told anyone about it.

"But Willow Rosenberg knew. She had telepathic abilities and could sometimes pick up unguarded thoughts—especially if the person doing the thinking was angry about something. Willow already knew about the Shanshu from Giles’ thoughts and from Wesley Wyndam-Pryce’s thoughts and from something Illyria told her.

"But Willow knew something she’d picked up while reading Angel’s mind, that time when the Kalderash kidnapped Willow and his friends rescued her. Willow knew about that one day when Angel was actually human.

"Angel was accidentally exposed to Mohra blood and became a living human again. But Buffy nearly died protecting him and fighting the Mohra at the same time—so Angel had the Powers That Be turn time back 24 hours. Buffy only remembered the moment the Mohra demon first attacked Angel. She only remembered seeing him kill the Mohra. Only Angel remembered the day he was human."

Giles nodded. "Janna was right. Her dream really was one of Buffy’s memories—a memory she lost and somehow reacquired upon her reincarnation. Continue."

Willowgram said: "Later, when Angel took on the Circle of the Black Thorn, Angel signed the Shanshu prophecy to convince the Black Thorn he didn’t want to be human again. Angel assumed the prophecy couldn’t be fulfilled—at least not for him."

"But Willow Rosenberg wrote in the entries that SHE classified: ‘A prophesy can only be waived BEFORE it is fulfilled. Angel had already been human for a day, so technically the prophecy had been fulfilled. Which meant, technically, Angel couldn’t sign it away. Which means it can still be fulfilled—if we can just pour some Mohra blood into a wound in Angel’s flesh’."

Giles quoted Connor Riley: "Mohra blood will heal all flesh that walks. The vampire must have understood the message. Willow, or someone, used his great grandson to deliver it." Giles frowned. "But how in God’s name did the boy know to deliver it here?"

Willowgram shrugged and continued: "But first Willow had to bring Angel back from the dead and without the Senior Partners knowing about it.

"Willow deliberately double-crossed Illyria. The blue demon had planned to resurrect Angel so they could continue fighting their war with Wolfram & Hart and the Senior Partners.

"Willow tried to send a telepathic message to her ex-lover Kennedy, but she couldn’t reach her mind inside the Well. Willow wasn’t sure she could send anything into the Well. So Willow made a last minute back-up plan. She sent a telepathic message to the Slayer Faith Surname Unknown Not In File."

Willowgram continued: "Willow and Faith never actually talked about it, but Willow read her mind and knew what Faith knew. Faith witnessed Angel’s resurrection and was sure Angel still had his soul. He asked Faith and Kennedy to keep the secret that he was alive. Later, Willow found out about the Shanshu prophesy, about what Angel thought the signature meant, but she had no way to get word to Angel that he hadn’t signed anything away—not unless she wanted to run the really big risk that the Senior Partners would learn Angel was still alive.

"So Willow kept her secret. Clem left the Deeper Well from time to time and whenever she got the chance, Willow scanned his brain to learn what she could about Angel."

Sebastian Giles sighed. "Thank God Willow was on our side."

Willowgram said: "Then Buffy Summers became the first Slayer to grow old. Buffy wished out loud that she could see Angel again and that she hoped maybe she would see him when she returned to heaven. That’s when Willow told her that Angel was still alive, in the Deeper Well. Then Buffy asked Willow Rosenberg for a huge favor.

"Willow agonized over her decision—she filled out two whole hardcopy diaries that she later classified and protected with magic so no one would know—and then Willow did as Buffy requested—"

Sebastion Giles rubbed his eyes. "I still can’t believe she—"

"—Willow cursed Buffy to be reincarnated as a Kalderash."

FADE OUT.

To be continued in Act Four, Part Two

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5B/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT:

SUMMARY: See the first installment entitled "Restoration: Not Forgotten"

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5B/5F)

Act Four, Part Two

Scene Four

FADE IN.

Arial view, Beverly Hills, night.

Cut to:

Ext., a park.

The Mohra were, once more, practicing the attack on the tree that represented the Deeper Well to them.

Cut to:

Ext., Council Troop Transport, in mid-air.

The transport landed in the deep end of an empty swimming pool of a long abandoned mansion.

Angel leapt to the pool deck with a couple coils of rope slung over his shoulders. He tied one end of each rope to a nearby tree and then lowered the ropes to the Slayers. As some Slayers climbed up and others waited in line for their turn, Angel dove feet first into the empty pool, grabbed more rope coils and leapt back up.

Livia and Jocasta watched in amazement. The brunette said: "Glad your friend is on our side."

"He isn’t my friend."

"Don’t wanna get attached?"

"I don’t wanna kill a friend," Jocasta said.

"May not come to that."

"He’s a vampire, I’m a Watcher. You see us as friends?"

"Hey, he dated a Slayer so anything’s possible."

"That doesn’t bother you? That he and a Slayer—"

"Considerin’ some a the guys I’ve been with—a vamp could be considered a step up."

Jocasta shuddered. "So glad I’m a lesbian."

Cut to:

Ext., the park in the Beverly Hills wasteland.

As always, the Mohra did a pretty darn good job of hacking and crippling one another during their practice attacks on the mock Deeper Well.

But all action stopped when someone whistled and hundreds of demonic heads turned in the same direction.

To where a short red headed woman stood holding hands with a tall dark haired man. His fangs glistened in the moonlight. Behind the vampire and the Watcher stood 100 Slayers, all heavily armed.

Angel smiled and shouted: "It’s true, guys—I’m back!"

The uninjured members of the Mohra army charged.

A white light seemed to pass from Angel to Jocasta. Angel sank to his knees. He looked up and winked at her again.

Jocasta also sank to her knees.

FADE OUT.

Scene Five

FADE IN.

Ext., the park in the Beverly Hills wasteland.

The red head closed her eyes and opened her mouth and let out an inhuman shriek—one that a banshee might well envy.

A wave of energy passed through the area and as it washed over the Slayers, many of them staggered and clutched their heads. As the wave of energy washed over the Mohra, the jewels in their foreheads shattered and they vanished in flashes of bright white light.

A few of the Mohra to the rear of the attack fell off and threw themselves to the ground—escaping the mystical attack.

Livia raised a red flag—and the Slayers charged—laying down heavy fire on the Mohra, turning the demonic assault into a rout. The Slayers surged forward. Wherever a Slayer found a fallen Mohra demon, she smashed its skull jewel and moved on to the next potential target.

Livia and four other Slayers positioned themselves around Jocasta and the vampire. Only two Mohra got close enough to be a threat and Livia beating one of them savagely before she killed it. A small Latina Slayer, who could have been the legendary Kennedy’s twin, killed the other one quickly.

Livia, watching, nodded and smiled in satisfaction. She wiped her bloody nose against the back of her hand, then removed a pair of plugs from her ears. As did Jocasta, Angel and the other Slayers. "Wicked spell, Colonel."

"Exhausted now," Jocasta said. She fell forward. Angel reached over, touched her neck.

"She’s alive—I just think she needs some rest."

The vampire, kneeling beside the watcher, scooped her up and rose, shakily, to his feet.

Livia called out to the Slayers to get in formation. She selected four to escort them back to the Troop transport. She selected four others to "find a spot and make it the local HQ."

Angel gave her a puzzled look.

Livia shrugged. "New orders from Councilor Giles—we protect poor neighborhoods as well as rich ones, deny demons future opportunities to create staging grounds for major operations." To one of the Slayers, Livia said: "Once you’ve got your HQ, invite the press and let ’em tag along on a patrol—and show ’em the edited visrec of what we just did."

The Slayer said: "Edited how, ma’am?"

"Edited so it looks like the Mohra dusted him before we wiped ’em all out." Livia looked at Angel and winked.

Angel nodded. Livia led the way as the vampire, flanked by four other Slayers, carried an exhausted Watcher back to the transport vessel.

Cut to:

Ext., Aurora Summers’ house.

The two blondes emerged from the house, stakes in hand. The late Aurora Summers had apparently left a weapons cache there—in case of necessity. Given the isolated location of the house, that made sense.

Janna Kalderash looked livid. "Where the hell did that skinny, pale, bitch go?"

"G-Gone, I guess."

"Drusilla’s not gonna make it that easy, not if I remember right."

"How strong are your memories?"

"I remember the perfume Willow wore that day by the fountain," Janna said.

"We have to go—your father will notify the authorities about this place," Katherine said.

An explosion rocked the Earth and knocked the two women to the ground.

"What the hell was that?" Janna asked, getting to her feet. She helped Katherine up.

"P-probably our skimmer," Katherine said. "We’re trapped here—in the middle of nowhere. If we call for help, you get shipped to a mental hospital until you can prove you’re sane. If we don’t call for help—"

"We better win the fight, then," Janna said. "How do you feel about arson?"

"Arson?"

"Yeah—we could torch the house. Vamps don’t much like fires, right? That’d limit our problems to Ssoj, Rayne and my ex-daddy."

Before Katherine could argue, two more explosions roared—and fireballs erupted from opposite ends of Aurora Summers’ house.

The two blondes sighed. Janna said: "OK, the bad guys beat us to the arson. Any suggestions?"

"Can you swim?"

"Puget Sound’s polluted as hell!"

"W-Which is why I doubt th-they’ll follow us," Katherine said. "Especially not a vampire with an even stronger sense of smell than we have."

Janna smiled. "Does Col. Rosenberg know what a smart woman she’s got?"

Katherine smiled back. "She better."

FADE OUT.

Scene Six

FADE IN

Ext., Council Tower, Sunrise.

Cut to:

Int., Hangar Bay

The transport was greeted by a team of medics (supervised by the bald Dr. Crivarro), Councilor Giles, Lexington Harris, Connor Riley and Col. West.

The transport door opened. Livia emerged from the vessel, looked around and said: "Move it, Angel."

Angel stepped out, still carrying Jocasta in his arms. The medics took the unconscious Watcher from the vampire. Angel asked if he could join them.

Giles said: "I’m afraid we need to talk. Livia will let you know when Jocasta has recovered."

As the medical team carried Jocasta away and Livia followed them, the brunette Slayer turned long enough to look at the vampire and give him a salute. Then she turned her attention entirely, and exclusively, to the unconscious Watcher.

Angel said: "Where’s Clem?"

"He’s discussing pop culture trivia with James Wells," Lexington said. "We wanted to keep him occupied."

"And Illyira?"

"She’s calm, quiet, well rested and probably planning something really evil," Col. West said. "Like your friend Clem."

Angel shook his head. "I don’t understand, Clem doesn’t have an evil bone in—?" The vampire frowned. "You guys scanned my DNA. To do that, you had to have a sample in the first place—"

Col. West nodded. "And Clem is the only creature who had access to your DNA during the time you were in the Deeper Well."

Giles said: "Yet he never told you about Buffy’s plan to reunite with you."

"Excuse me?"

Col. West said: "It’s a little complicated—and involves that day that you were human."

"I don’t know what you’re—"

Giles said: "Spare us your denials, sir. Willow Rosenberg read your mind."

Angel shook his head. "You can’t read a vampire’s mind! The one time Buffy tried—"

Giles looked at Col. West, who said: "It’s true, sir, there was a brief period when Buffy Summers had unlimited, and uncontrolled, telepathic ability. Angel here acquired and delivered the cure—in broad daylight."

To Angel, Col. West said: "Willow’s diaries on you are quite complete. Unfortunately, several records were classified under DNA seal. Willow Rosenberg classified some records, Founding Councilor Rupert Giles classified almost everything related to the Shanshu Prophecy and his successor, Councilor Alexander Harris, had all records of the spell to restore your soul destroyed—"

"And he sealed that information under MY DNA?" Angel asked.

Col. West nodded.

Angel laughed bitterly. "Kid managed to get smarter and more self-righteous with time. But why didn’t Willow get a message to me? She’s the one who brought me back and hid me in the Deeper Well, isn’t she?"

The Watchers nodded.

Giles said: "Willow discovered that, for all her power, her thoughts could not reach into the Well. Whenever Clem emerged, she gave him messages for you—which he apparently kept to himself."

Angel looked stricken—as anyone might, upon learning that their only friend for 126 years has betrayed them . . . daily . . . hell, hourly . . . for each and every one of those 126 years.

Col. West said: "Willow wrote in her diary that she was frustrated by Clem’s betrayal. But she couldn’t do anything about it—any sort of public confrontation might have revealed your location to the Senior Partners."

Giles said: "Which is why Willow, during the last months of her life, contacted someone outside the Council and asked him to deliver a message to you as soon as he could reach you."

Angel said: "The message Connor brought, right? That the blood of the Mohra—"

Connor spoke for the first time. "No, gramps—"

"Don’t. Call. Me. Gramps."

Connor said: "The message was that the Shanshu prophecy could still be fulfilled."

"Why the hell wouldn’t Clem tell me—?" Angel shook his head. He leaned against a wall, as if he were deathly tired. He frowned and looked at Sebastian Giles. "Who did Willow go to?"

"A man named Ethan Rayne, he was—"

Angel said: "That damned s.o.b.?"

Connor’s head snapped to one side. He stared at Giles, wide eyed and frightened. "Any relation to Sean Rayne?"

"You know him?" Col. West asked.

"I should—Sean Rayne introduced me to my woman," said Angel’s great grandson.

FADE OUT.

To be continued in Act Four, Part Three

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5C/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: There is a snatch of dialogue in the following scene that was inspired by Ambyrhawke’s comments above.

SUMMARY: See the first installment entitled "Restoration: Not Forgotten"

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5C/5F)

Act Four, Part Three

Scene Seven

FADE IN.

Ext., Council Tower, morning.

Cut to:

Int., Hangar Bay

Angel shook his head. "Your woman?"

Connor Riley smiled sheepishly. "What can I say, I settled down young."

Angel glared at him. "Could we back up to the part where a descendent of an extremely dangerous chaos-worshipping wizard introduces my great grandson to his woman? Better yet—let’s back up to the part where a smart woman like Willow Rosenberg trusts her deepest secret to an extremely dangerous chaos-worshipping wizard instead of her friends!"

Col. West looked at Sebastion Giles, who simply nodded.

West sighed and said: "Apparently, for all their years of love and friendship, there were certain issues on which the so-called Skippies—"

"Scoobies," Angel said. "From a cartoon in the 1970s."

"Oh, that explains it! A pop culture reference! Anyway," West said. "It seems that the Scoobies disagreed with one another on a few rather, um, significant issues. You, among them."

Angel sighed. "Of course. Xander wanted me staked—by someone else—and Giles wanted to stake me."

West nodded. "Buffy was dying—of old age, I should tell you—when she asked Willow to make her come back as a Kalderash."

"Why in hell—?"

West held up one finger of his right hand. "It would keep Buffy’s reincarnation from being known to the Council for a long time—if ever." West held up a second finger. "If you found out your first love was alive again, Buffy and Willow felt that her being reincarnated a Kalderash—"

"Might possibly get around the God damned perfect happiness curse," Angel said, grimacing.

Col. West said: "And Buffy wasn’t sure she would remember her past life no matter how she returned to this life. As a Kalderash, she would hear about you from an early age, because the Kalderash teach their children to hate you generation after generation."

"Like Muslims, Christians and Jews in the Middle East," Angel said. "Or Christians in Ireland."

Giles said: "After Buffy died, Willow was greatly concerned that Rupert Giles might act against you if he knew your were still alive. His own diaries state he only spared your life for love of his Slayer. She had the same concern about Alexander Harris—a concern that proved prophetic, seeing as he chose to destroy all records of the spell that restored your soul. Until we can recover that spell—"

"The Council has to be ready to order my death," Angel said.

"None of which explains why the current Janna Kalderash wanted the Council to locate and slay you," Giles said.

West said: "I think I can explain that part, sir. We know that reincarnations generally have incomplete memories of their past lives—even with Past Life Regression therapy. But we knew so little in Buffy and Willow’s time that . . . they may not have known Buffy would not have a perfect memory of her days in Sunnydale . . . her relationship with you, Angel . . . or the fact that being a Kalderash might be enough, all by itself, to keep you from experiencing perfect happiness. Ironically, Buffy chose to be a Kalderash because she was afraid she would not remember Angel otherwise. What she failed to understand is that hate is often much more powerful than love."

"Would it bother any of you if I let out a scream of rage and frustration right now?" Angel asked.

Connor said: "Hang on, gramps. It gets worse."

"I told you, don’t call—how could it possibly get worse?"

Giles said: "You signed away the Shanshu Prophecy. Willow did not believe it was possible to sign it away. According to her theory—and I am afraid it is only a theory—it might be possible for you to become human again. Permanently."

"The same way I did it before," Angel said.

Giles said: "And here, I suspect, is where your great grandson figures into this story. Tell me, Mr. Riley—"

"Connor," said the young man, with a big goofy grin on his face.

"How did you know to come here at this time?"

Connor shrugged. "Mr. Rayne, Sean Rayne, looked me up when I was about 17. He introduced me to the woman I’m now living with—"

Giles whispered: "Could we please skip your bloody love life and get to the point?"

"—Rayne told me that if a Mohra demon ever attacked me, it meant that the Senior Partners might know my great grandfather was still alive and I should bring a small vile of Mohra blood with me to the Council and hire them to locate him."

The Watchers, Angel and his great grandson all exchanged looks.

For several moments, everyone was silent.

But, finally, Angel roared: "HOW COME RAYNE KNEW AND THE COUNCIL DIDN’T?"

West coughed. "Sean Rayne is no longer employed by the Council."

"That’s not an explanation," Angel snapped.

Lexington Harris stepped forward. "Stop yelling! We’re not your enemies, at least not at this second. It’s obvious that whatever the heck is going on, its been going on for a long time—damned close to 126 years. Rayne may be acting out a family agenda or he may be using info he got from his family for his own reasons."

"Like when he sided with Tyrell over the 314 Project," West said.

Now Angel showed his fangs. The Watchers all stepped back. Connor stepped between the Watchers and his great grandfather—with his back to the Watchers.

Angel said: "The 314 Project? That was—"

Giles sighed. "The High Command tried to resurrect the project—with nearly disastrous results. When Sean Rayne saw that good people were willing to resist—he fled. Goodness only knows who he works for now."

Angel’s face returned to normal. He said: "A guy like that works for himself. If he thinks the guys you kicked out will regain power, he’ll re-enlist. If not, he’ll sign with whoever promises him money or power."

West, Lexington Harris and Giles all nodded in agreement.

FADE OUT.

Scene Eight

FADE IN.

An old, pothole marred road near Puget Sound, day.

The two blonde women looked as though they had spent the night swimming through raw sewage.

Close enough, considering the pollution to be found in Puget Sound in 2130.

They crept along the roadside, looking in every direction—in case one of their enemies was hunting for them.

"At least Drusilla won’t be able to follow us," Janna said.

"Remind me not to tell you about Project 314."

"That stupid experiment?"

"You’ve heard of it?"

"Hello, reincarnation of Buffy, remember? I remember that fiasco—vividly."

"The High Command tried to do it again," Katherine said. "In the same location as the first time."

"I am so glad my family bought my freedom from your Council," Janna said.

"Half the time you curse the Kalderash, the rest of the time you curse the Council or cadja generally. You do know that at some point you’re going to have to decide if you want to be Janna Kalderash or Buffy Summers or someone else, right?"

"I’ll decide when we get out of this alive," Janna said. "And we will."

"I h-hope we—shush!"

Overhead, skimmers could be heard. Peering up through the trees, Janna and Katherine saw the skimmers moving slowly over the trees—projecting an orange beam of light on them. The trees and their leaves and needles slowly turned red—and then disappeared.

Janna gasped. "They’re trying to kill us!"

Katherine shook her head. "Jocasta told me about this. It’s called Termlight—rhymes with termite—a defoliant beam that is designed exclusively to break down the molecular structure of plants. Corporate troops used Termlight to locate the Coven Rebels."

"They’re with the government—see?"

Janna pointed at one skimmer which was low enough, close enough, and positioned so that they could see on the side a variation on the traditional U.S. flag—but with 53 white crucifixes where stars should have been.

Katherine said: "That’s not the U.S. military logo—that’s Enemy Management’s logo. Leave it to demons to invoke God and country even as they attack vote."

"So the demons finally learned from humanity," Janna said. "Do we go back to Puget Sound?"

Katherine nodded. "We stay in the water as much as we can."

"What if that’s their plan?"

"Then we better pray my girlfriend can find us fast."

"That’d be a neat trick, considering she doesn’t know where we are."

Katherine smiled. "I remember my past life, too, Janna—and my girlfriend always finds me."

Cut to:

Ext., Seattle skyline, day.

Cut to:

Ext., Seattle Library Corporation Needle Terror Victims Memorial Branch.

Cut to:

Int, library.

Sean Rayne paid his admission fee and entered the library.

Sean Rayne sat at a link screen and placed his right thumb on the scanner pad before him.

The computer replied in a monotone semi-female voice: "You are Sean Rayne. You are wanted for questioning by the Watcher’s Council. Law enforcement will be notified of your location unless you wish to turn yourself in. Do you wish to access the International Internet Conglomerate Service or a specific party?"

Sean Rayne shrugged. "I suppose I will have to say that I wish to turn myself in. Please link me to International Headquarters, Watcher’s Council. I have sufficient funds—"

"Emergency calls to the Council are free of charge."

Sean looked puzzled. "Since when?"

"Since 80 days ago."

Sean smiled. "Oh, Sebastian, you foolish idealist."

"Do you wish to access the New Internet or a specific party?"

"I wish to speak directly with Councilor Sebastian Giles about his Illyira problem."

FADE OUT.

Scene Nine

FADE IN.

Ext, Council Tower, Day.

Cut to:

Int., Council corridors.

Angel strode the corridor with a look of pure hatred on his face. People gave the tall, angry-looking man a wide birth. Two Slayers, crossbows in hand, followed him.

As they walked, a computer generated voice said: "Councilor Sebastian Giles, you have a Priority One Call. Please activate your link. Councilor Sebastian Giles, you have a Priority One Call. Please activate your link. Councilor . . . "

Cut to:

Int., Watchers Council Computer Center.

James Wells, Clem and a revived Anyabot were leaning over a counter, talking about something "the Q Continuum" when the doors slid open and Angel stalked through the doorway.

Clem smiled and said: "Hey, Angel, we were—"

With his left hand, Angel grabbed Clem by the throat, yanked him off the ground and slammed him into a wall. He gave Clem 10 vicious right crosses to the face. Clem’s nose and lips and gums spurt green blood.

Anyabot and James circled the counter and rushed to Clem’s aid—only to be blocked by two armed Slayers.

Angel snarled: "I thought we were friends!"

"Buffy was my friend first."

"YOU BETRAYED BUFFY! YOU BETRAYED WILLOW, FOR GOD’S SAKE!"

Tears ran from Clem’s eyes as blood ran from his nose. "Buffy was the nicest human being I ever met," said the 3,000-year-old demon.

"AND YOU BETRAYED HER?"

"Suppose you guys got back together? You’d still be a vampire and she’d still be a Slayer," Clem said. "Don’t you get it, Angel? Love conquers nothing. I’ve never seen love win. Not once in 3,000 years. Willow lost Tara, you lost your soul, everybody lost."

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?"

"Facing reality!" Clem said. "What you and Buffy had was a nice fantasy—you could never make it work."

"THAT WASN’T YOUR CALL TO MAKE, CORPUS DEMON!"

"Buffy deserved a normal life, Angel! No Slaying, no patrols, no Council using her, no more vampires and demons and Hellmouths! She earned her rest, Angel! Why can’t you let her have that? Why couldn’t Willow let her have that? Wasn’t Buffy of all the people you’ve known entitled to peace?"

Angel didn’t answer. For the next five or 10 minutes, the only sounds that could be heard were the ragged sounds of the breathing humans and the breathing corpus demon.

Then Angel drove his knee into Clem’s groin. He released his grip on the demon and let Clem drop to the floor. Clem clutched his crotch and curled into a fetal position, sobbing.

"Did you tell the Senior Partners I was still alive."

Clem looked up at him with a look of genuine shock on his face.

One of the Slayers said: "He could be lying."

Angel shook his head. "No, I don’t think so. If Clem told them about me, he would have just left the Deeper Well and gotten as far from the action as he could."

Angel knelt beside his friend. Former friend. "Councilor Giles said he’d leave you to my judgment. Soon as you can walk out of here, get lost. If I see you again, I’ll kill you. The Watchers will probably issue a Kill on Sight order, so you should probably stay away from Slayers and Watchers too. Don’t come back to the Deeper Well. You have no friends left in this world, Clem. It’s gonna be a lonely 2,000 years before you die."

Angel stood and walked out. The two Slayers hesitated, then followed him. Clem lay on the floor weeping.

James Wells rushed to Clem’s side. Anyabot said: "What’s he like when he’s EVIL?"

Cut to:

Ext., Seattle skyline, day.

Cut to:

Ext., Seattle Library Corporation Needle Terror Victims Memorial Branch.

Cut to:

Int, library.

Sean Rayne smiled the moment Sebastian Giles’ face appeared on the link screen.

"Do you wish to turn yourself in?" Giles asked.

"You never were a realist, Sebastian," Sean said. "That is why Tyrell and I will eventually regain control of the Council."

"You didn’t call and risk capture just to say that."

"I can get rid of Illyria for you."

"How could you possibly—?"

Rayne laughed. "Who do you think brought her back? Do you think her return just happened to coincide with the gathering of the Mohra army?"

Giles stared at him. "You bloody bastard! You sodding, bloody—"

Sean waved a finger at him. "Such language, Sebastian!"

"You told the Senior Partners that Angel was alive!"

Sean Rayne smiled. "Poor Willow Rosenberg. She mistakenly assumed that because Ethan Rayne was her friend the entire Rayne family would keep his word for him. And I suppose I did, at that. I was the one who convinced Janna Kalderash—or should I say Buffy Summers?—to hire you to find and dust the vampire."

"What the bloody hell do you want, Sean?"

"I want a full pardon," Sean said. "Give me that and I’ll send Illyria back, convince the Senior Partners that Angel is dead and, as a bonus, I will provide you with the proof you need to eliminate Enemy Management, Inc."

"And if I refuse?"

Sean Rayne held up a small dark plant. "Willow Rosenberg once used this to erase a lover’s memory of a spat. I can use it to carry out . . . shall we say, surgical strikes against the Council?"

"Surgical strikes?"

"I could make you all forget that I shared the High Command’s somewhat heartless vision . . . or I could make you all forget who you are."

Giles glared at him. "You don’t have that kind of power, Sean."

Sean spoke a single word. White and blue sparks crawled over the leaf from Sean’s fingertips to the far edge of the plant.

"What the hell did you just do?" Giles asked.

Sean Rayne smiled. "I eliminated Janna Kalderash."

Cut to:

Woods flanking a pothole marred road near Puget Sound, day.

Janna Kalderash and Katherine Allison ran through the remaining trees. The skimmers were converging on them from three directions, almost as if the pilots were herding the two women toward Puget Sound. Only the time required for Termlight to destroy plant life slowed the advance of the Enemy Management skimmers.

Janna suddenly gasped and dropped to her knees.

"J-Janna, what’s wrong?"

The petite blonde shuddered for a few seconds. Beads of sweat suddenly covered her head, neck and arms. Then Janna Kalderash looked up, wide-eyed.

It was impossible to say if she was horrified or overjoyed.

Then she grabbed Katherine and gave her a huge hug. "Tara! You’re alive!"

"Oh. My. Goddess. No!"

FADE OUT

To be continued in Act Four, Part Four . . .

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5D/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: Ahem. By any wild chance, does anyone remember Jonathan’s last name? (I mean Jonathan of The Trio fame.) He won’t appear in this story, but I am toying with an idea for another involving Andrew.

SUMMARY: See the first installment entitled "Restoration: Not Forgotten"

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5D/5F)

Act Four, Part Four

Scene Ten

FADE IN.

Int., Seattle Library Corporation Needle Terror Victims Memorial Branch.

Sean Rayne smiled. "I eliminated Janna Kalderash."

Sebastian Giles paled. "Y-you murdered—"

"Oh, no, Sebastian, I would never commit a murder and then tell you about it—you are much to naïve and honorable. No, I simply erased all her memories."

"You don’t think that is murder? How can the girl possibly live without any memories of—?"

Sean laughed. "She has memories, old friend—memories of being Buffy Summers. For all practical purposes, I have brought back the Last Chosen One."

"I-I don’t believe you."

"I didn’t really expect you too," Sean said. "Enemy Management skimmers are using Termlight to ferret out Katherine Allison and Janna Kalderash as we speak. Last I saw, Mr. Ssoj, Mr. Kalderash and a vampire named Drusilla were in the skimmers hunting the women."

Giles’ face darkened. "Where? I warn you, if anything happens to them—"

"They are near Puget Sound, near the burning remains of Aurora Summers’ house," Sean said. "I advise you to act quickly."

Sean stood. "So sorry to walk away, I know it is rude, but I expect the police will be here any moment. They will find a visrec that proves Mr. Ssoj and Enemy Management are quite demonic. It should provide you with the evidence you need to put them out of business—and more than sufficient reason to believe that I, and only I, can send Illyira back where she belongs. Provided, of course, that you drop all charges against me. I frankly do not care for the life of a fugitive."

Sean Rayne then walked away.

Sebastian Giles shouted: "SEAN! COME BACK HERE!" He must have known shouting would do him no good—but he shouted anyway.

Cut to:

Woods flanking a pothole marred road near Puget Sound, day.

Janna suddenly gasped and dropped to her knees.

"J-Janna, what’s wrong?"

The petite blonde shuddered for a few seconds. Beads of sweat suddenly covered her head, neck and arms. Then Janna Kalderash looked up, wide-eyed.

Then she grabbed Katherine and gave her a huge hug. "Tara! You’re alive!"

"Oh. My. Goddess. No!"

Janna Kalderash pulled away from Katherine. "What’s wrong, Tar—?" Her eyes, already quite wide, seemed to become even wider as she quickly looked around and up—and assessed her situation.

"What’s going on, Tara?"

"Y-you’re B-Buffy?"

"Last I checked." Buffy frowned. "We should be running now, not talking, right?"

"We’re near Puget Sound and those people—" Katherine pointed at the skimmers. "—probably want to kill us."

"Then you can fill me after we run like hell. You know this place?"

"Not well."

"Not well is better than me—you’re the boss for now."

Katherine grabbed Janna’s—Buffy’s?—hand and pulled the petite blonde to her feet. Then the two women, as Janna-Buffy suggested, ran like hell.

FADE OUT.

Scene Eleven

FADE IN.

Ext., Council Tower, Day.

Int., Conference Room 7, Watcher’s Council.

Cut to:

A holographic projection hovering above a simple-looking table. The image projected:

An arial shot of Enemy Management skimmers disintegrating a forest with Termlight as two small human figures run toward Puget Sound.

Seated at the table were Giles, Jocasta, Livia, Antonia Allister, Lexington Harris and James Wells. Willowgram stood nearby in the "at ease" pose that military personnel are taught.

The conference room door slid open and Col. West came in. "The Seattle Police Company didn’t catch him, sir. But they did transmit the visrecs he left at the Library—the evidence confirms that Mr. Ssoj fed the Meers women to vampires, who sired them."

Giles, in the coldest tone of voice he had ever used, said: "Send a copy to the government. Issue a Global Alert to all Watchers and Slayers: Enemy Management, Inc. personnel are no longer regarded as either allies or civilians. Capture on sight. Use deadly force if necessary."

"Any other instructions?"

"Come back as soon as you’ve issued that order," Giles said. "I’d like your input before I make . . . a difficult decision."

"What about Cadet Meers and her Mother?"

Giles said: "Dust on Sight—By Any Means Physically Possible."

Everyone shuddered at the horrific phrase, with its implicit statement that morality was irrelevant and that collateral damage would be perfectly acceptable if the two Meers women, now vampires, were destroyed in the bargain. Col. West blanched for a moment, then nodded and left.

Jocasta pointed at the hologram. "How soon before fighters can get there?"

Toni said: "That’s a problem. Demons usually fight on the ground; so most of our arial machines are for transport only—with very limited air combat capabilities. In all, I think the Council has 12 Aerofighters in the entire country—the nearest one is at the Las Vegas Airshow. It could be nightfall before we can get help to them."

Lexington said: "What about the Army?"

Giles sighed: "They won’t act against Enemy Management until the administration has reviewed the evidence Rayne gave us—and even then it may take weeks or months for the government to get around to acknowledging the problem, let alone acting upon it."

Lexington looked at Jocasta: "Can you help?"

"How?"

"Cast a spell, make the skimmers power down."

Jocasta shook her head. "The skimmers would crash, start a forest fire. We might lose Katherine and Janna."

Giles said: "Which brings us to our next question—did Sean Rayne erase Janna’s memories of being Janna?"

Jocasta said: "Probably. Memory spells are really tricky—and dangerous. You screw up, someone could stroke out or develop a brain tumor. There’s a reason the Council has always been down on magic—misused, it is pretty damned nasty stuff."

Toni said: "What will happen to Janna if she has . . . become Buffy?"

All eyes locked on Jocasta. Sweat beaded on her forehead. "Well . . . she’s probably a little disoriented. All her Buffy memories came flooding back at once . . . she doesn’t know she’s hit the 22^nd Century . . . she’s being hunted by skimmers . . . she’s never seen skimmers before . . . "

Willowgram said: "And Buffy’s a city girl, she’s never spent much time in the woods."

Jocasta nodded. "On the up side, Buffy is a trained Slayer, trained by the Council’s founder, raised on a Hellmouth—and if we can believe the historical record, she’s pretty much at her best under stress."

"And Katherine is with her," Toni said. "Katherine is a good Slayer in her own right—and I’m not just saying that because she’s dating my cousin."

Jocasta smiled for a nanosecond, and then frowned again. "I just wish there was something we could do to help them stall for time."

Willowgram said: "You could teleport anti-aircraft weapons to them, couldn’t you?"

Everyone looked at the hologram. The computer generated image of Willow smiled sheepishly. "I mean, then they could fight back, couldn’t they?"

Col. West re-entered the room.

Lexington shook his head. "They wouldn’t know how to use the damned things."

"What damned things?" West asked.

"Anti-aircraft weapons," Willowgram said.

Lexington snapped his fingers. "Could you teleport a person?"

Willogram said: "I did it lots of times." She frowned. "Tara made me stop. The nosebleeds and headaches were kinda nasty."

Col. West said: "Charles Gunn III?"

"He’s a living weapon, he said so himself," Lexington said.

Col. West scowled. "Why are white men always so eager to send black men into combat?"

"I’d love to hear a better suggestion—preferably while Katherine and Janna Buffy Whatever-the-hell-her-name-is-now are still alive," Lexington said. "And I am not a God Damned racist!"

Giles slammed the table top with his palm. "Enough! I won’t force Mr. Gunn into combat but if he has recovered enough . . . "

Livia spoke for the first time in a long while. "He’s guarding Illyria. I’m afraid of what’ll happen if we pull him off her." She frowned. "I really wish I hadn’t said it that way. Anyhow, if we send Gunn to save Janna and Katherine we may not have him here to save us."

Giles looked at Jocasta again. "Could you cast a memory spell on Illyria—one that would make her believe she was Winifred Burkle?"

Jocasta shrugged. "All the literature on memory and mind control spells assume human targets—I don’t know if any human has ever used MC on a demon. I don’t think any demon has ever used an MC spell on a demon. Even if it worked, it might be temporary."

"Please try," Giles said. "Even temporary relief from Illyria would be helpful."

James Wells said: "According to Yoda, ‘There is no try’."

Giles sighed. "I do wish computer schools would stop accepting literature majors."

Willowgram said: "I used, I mean Willow Rosenberg, used MC on the vengeance demon Anya."

Jocasta said: "When?"

Willowgram said: "The database entries are kinda skimpy—but the dates on the entries, and the fact Willow didn’t go into detail, kinda suggests it happened when Willow went homicidaly."

Col. West said: "You mentioned something about a difficult decision, sir?"

Sebastian Giles nodded. "Sean Rayne wants a pardon—in exchange for which, he will send Illyria back where she came from. He claims he brought her here and as he admitted to telling the Senior Partners that Angel was alive, I think we have to accept him at his word."

Everyone stared at the Councilor in horror.

Lexington said: "With all due respect, sir—ARE YOU NUTS? YOU CAN’T—"

Giles ran his finger across his throat—instantly silencing the younger man.

In a small voice, Willowgram asked what they were going to say to Angel. No one answered her. Perhaps no one heard.

Giles said: "Rayne also threatened to use memory spells against the Council. We can’t allow that either."

Jocasta said: "There’s actually a pretty simple defense, Giles. I can cast a memory spell that erases his knowledge of the memory spell."

Toni asked what could stop Rayne from relearning the spell.

Lexington said: "Take away his memory of how to read and he’s pretty much neutralized."

Jocasta paled.

Gently, Giles said: "I realize it is a harsh thing to do but—"

"R-reading knowledge is pretty fundamental, sir," Jocasta said. "We could destroy all his knowledge of magic—including the way to send Illyria back to outer space."

FADE OUT.

Scene Twelve

FADE IN.

Ext., residential neighborhood, Seattle, Washington, day.

Cut to:

Ext., house.

Cut to:

Int., house.

A family of six lived here once. But they had obviously made the mistake of inviting strangers into their home during the night—for all six lay dead, their throats ripped open, at the feet of the Meers women.

Ironically, the corpses and the two undead women all occupied the part of the house commonly known as the living room. Mother and daughter sat in front of the t.v. set, watching a daytime drama.

"This is so boring!" Lesley Warren Meers groaned. "All My Children was sooooo much better in the 20^th Century."

Lady Maxine Meers glared at her undead daughter. "Unless you can think of a way to survive daylight, you’ll just have to suffer. Sleep. I’m sure you got used to sleeping in daylight as a Slayer."

"Don’t remind me," Lesley said. "I am going to be so unpopular with the vampire community—a vampire who used to Slay vampires."

"As I believe I have told you a thousand times since we rose—don’t volunteer that fact. Someone’s likely to seek revenge for . . . " Maxine frowned. "Did you actually slay anyone?"

"In this life? No, just some holographic vampires and a holographic Toth."

"Did you Slay anyone in your past lives? I can’t remember."

"Only when my Watcher was looking. Otherwise, I pretty much let them kill people. Well, women anyway."

"You are the only woman I’ve ever known who hates women."

"I’m not supposed to be a woman, mom, that was your idea. I never wanted to come back—"

"That Alistair tramp’s curse made sure you’d come back anyway—as a woman! Blame her, not me. I only wanted you to come back as a Slayer."

Lesley Warren Meers stood up. "I gotta use the girl’s room." She started toward the kitchen—and the dining room.

"Not a good idea—there’s a shaft of sunlight pouring through that little window above the shower stall."

Lesley continued walking, as if she hadn’t heard her mother.

"Didn’t you hear me, young lady? And the bathroom is the other way!"

Lesley passed by the dinning room table—and kicked the nearest leg so hard it broke off the table and the table collapsed.

Maxine jumped up and put her hands on her hips. "I did not raise you to be a spoiled brat—in ANY of our damned lives!"

Lesley spun around, bent over, scooped up the wooden table leg—and flung it at her mother’s chest.

To be continued in Act Four, Part Five . . .

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5E/5F)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: Lilah makes a brief appearance here. Trust me, she’ll be important—eventually.

SUMMARY: See the first installment entitled "Restoration: Not Forgotten"

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5E/5EF)

Act Four, Part Five

Scene Thirteen

FADE IN.

Lesley Warren Meers passed by the dinning room table—and kicked the nearest leg so hard it broke off the table and the table collapsed.

Lady Maxine Meers jumped up and put her hands on her hips. "I did not raise you to be a spoiled brat—in ANY of our damned lives!"

Lesley spun around, bent over, scooped up the wooden table leg—and flung it at her mother’s chest.

Mrs. Meers may have been older, but she was not much slower than her daughter. She snatched the flying table leg in flight just before it struck her chest. She broke the table leg over her knee.

"You stupid little bitch. Do you think you’d last one SECOND without me to tell you how to breathe?"

Lesley rolled her eyes. "Newsflash, mom: we don’t breathe anymore!"

"How dare you try to kill the only person who has ever cared about you in more than a century?"

Lesley turned her back on her mother, circled the broken dinning table, and stopped at the curtains that covered the dinning room windows. She clutched a fistful of curtains and said: "Get out, mom."

"What?"

"Get out of my LIFE! You’ve been a pain in my butt since I was a man! You’re the reason I hate women—"

"Stop blaming me for the fact that you were born a loser just like your father and the slut he dumped me for!"

"One more word, mom, and I’ll pull this curtain so hard it’ll rip the rod right out of the damned WALL!"

"We’ll both—"

"Burst into flames," Lesley said. She looked over her shoulder at her mother. "Be worth it to end this eternal crap of coming back to be raised the same way by the same psychopath—"

"I’m not the serial woman killer and failed rapist, Warren!"

"Mom? You and I have been murdering Rosenberg women for 126 years—you’re as much a serial woman killer as I am! Now GET THE HELL OUT OF MY UNLIFE! I DON’T NEED MY MOMMY ANY MORE!"

"You haven’t got the guts to—"

"Count of five, bitch, and I swear—!" Lesley Warren Meers pulled on the curtain just enough so that the curtain rod visibly bent.

Maxine suddenly smiled. It was a sweet smile, even indulgent. She sighed. "OK, dear, if that’s how you feel."

She turned and started toward the door, pieces of the broken table leg still in each of her hands. The fact it was still daylight out did not seem to bother either of the two vampires.

Maxine was in front of the door when she stopped, her back to her child.

"I mean it, mom! One. Two. Three. Four. Fi—"

Maxine spun around and flung one very pointy piece of broken table leg at her daughter’s back.

Warren said "—ve" just before he burst into a cloud of dust. The broken table leg dropped to the floor.

"I wonder if he’ll be reincarnated again," Maxine said. She shrugged. "Never mind. Just as long as I exterminate the Rosenbergs."

She walked back to the sofa and lay on it. "A little post infanticide nap never hurt a lady." She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep, apparently oblivious to the fact she had just destroyed the only stated reason she ever had for pursuing her feud with the Rosenbergs generation after generation.

Cut to:

Int., an office—of sorts. (Location not readily apparent.)

The room was about 10X10. Three of the four walls were made of rough rock—rather like cooled lava. One wall was flat and covered entirely by a mirror. Opposite the mirror was a desk and to the right of that desk was a doorway. No door, just a doorway. Behind the desk was a gorgeous brunette. The nameplate on the front of her desk said: Lilah Morgan, Orientation Services.

"Welcome to eternity, Mr. Meers."

"Mister? I’m a wo—" Warren Meers, upon hearing his male voice for the first time in a very long time, felt his male face. "Five o’clock shadow!" He looked to his left and to his right. "Is there a—?"

Lilah pointed behind him. He turned and saw his reflection and squealed like a little schoolgirl—delighted to see his own reflection after the longest parental time out in history.

"My face! My beautiful face!" He actually rushed to the mirror and kissed his own reflection. Over and over again. Kissing the only person he had ever loved in his many lives.

Lilah said: "I owe William an apology—you really are a wonker."

"The expression is ‘wanker,’ luv," said a voice with a British accent.

Warren stopped kissing the mirror and opened his eyes. They were terror-filled eyes. He looked in the mirror, saw only Lilah seated at the desk behind him and stepped back, trembling. "No-no- no- no- no- no- no—"

Warren turned to see Spike standing in the doorway, his face lumpy and his tongue gliding over his fangs.

"B-but you’re dead!"

"We both are," Lilah said. "Him longer than me, but sill . . . "

Spike said: "I still have to reside in Hell because of all my sins—but as a reward for the very little good I did in life, and even less in undeath, I was promised that I could personally supervise the torment of one truly useless wanker. You, boy."

Warren dropped to his knees. "Please, in the name of God—"

Lilah said: "Why do the damned always invoke God?"

"I didn’t," Spike said. "’Course, I accepted my punishment like a man. Most don’t."

"Please don’t feed on me!"

Spike laughed. "Relax, boy. I wouldn’t have fed on you when I was evil." To Lilah, he said: "They want you topside again."

"Another Angel sighting?"

"Afraid so," Spike said. "I think he’s starting to rival Elvis."

"Oh, people must have stopped sighting Elvis since the last time—how long has it been, a half century? Since I went up there?"

Spike shrugged. "Think it has only been a quarter century." To Warren: "Get on your feet and stop sniveling, Warren. I haven’t given you anything to cry about just yet. Mind! I plan to. Remember how Willow murdered you?"

Lilah got up, removed a brown bag (presumably her lunch) from a drawer and disappeared through the open doorway.

"You’re gonna flay me with magic?"

Spike laughed. "I’m no magician, son! I’m gonna flay you manually! It’ll take hours—and after you die and come back to life and grow a new skin, I’ll flay you again. And again. For eternity!"

"This isn’t justice!"

Spike smiled. "Actually, it is justice—absent mercy."

FADE OUT.

Scene Fourteen

FADE IN.

Ext., Conference Room 7, Watcher’s Council.

The Watchers all poured out of the door, each of them wearing a look of anxiety mixed with grim determination.

Jocasta scurried off alone in one direction; Lexington and West headed in another direction as Livia and Antonia Allister stood by the door. Lexington looked back and said, "Hurry up!"

Livia said: "We’re right behind you!"

Close up:

Liva and Toni.

The brunette said: "You better speak your mind, fast."

The blonde nodded and crossed her arms. "If this plan works, there’s something I feel obligated to do. Something that should have been done a long time ago."

A wolfish smile spread across Livia’s face. "Wild guess. There’s more to your family history than that one entry about Clem in Rowena Alistair’s old diary."

"Even a moron has a redundancy system," Toni said. "And Rowena Alistair not a moron."

"So what’s the plan?"

"Giles and the others may not like it—we could get in very, very serious trouble."

"I look like a wimp to you, Tone? What’s? The? Plan?"

"I have to stab Angel in the back."

Cut to:

Rapidly diminishing woods flanking a pothole marred road near Puget Sound, late afternoon.

Enemy Management skimmers continued to use Termlight to devour the trees and with them the forest.

Cut to:

Middle of Puget Sound.

Two blonde women were treading polluted water. They both looked exhausted—as even Slayers may after spending hours without sleep or food while on the run from professional demon killers and after an additional two hours of swimming without rest in thick, rancid water that burns the eyes and makes the skin itch.

"How long before they search the water for us, Tara?"

Katherine tilted her head. "D-depends? They’ll need 30 or so minutes to power down the Termlight and another 15 to power up the heat sensors—if they have heat sensors."

"Why wouldn’t they have heat sensors?"

Katherine shrugged. "Well, Enemy Management—"

"Excuse me?"

Katherine swallowed. "I g-guess maybe this is a good time to fill you in on what’s happening?"

"Might be nice to have a clue before I die," the reincarnation of Buffy said.

"What’s the last thing I remember?"

"Last thing I remember is a crazy dream."

"What happened in your dream?"

"I was in a big lounge surrounded by old people and I was flirting with a volunteer who was the same age as my grandson—" Janna-Buffy gasped. "That wasn’t a dream?"

"’Fraid not."

"I dreamed my head exploded. Dream?"

"I don’t think so."

"I was old. I don’t feel old. Did I travel back in time or—?"

"Forward, actually," Katherine said. "This is the year 2130."

Janna-Buffy blinked. She looked from Katherine’s face to the skimmers on the horizon, then back to Katherine, then back to the skimmers, back to Katherine, back to the skimmers, to Katherine, the skimmers, Katherine, skimmers—etc.

"All of a sudden, that straight jacket is starting to seem really inviting again."

"Huh?"

"Sorry, creepy flashback. I believe you. You weren’t much of a liar, Tara, and I know those damn things over there aren’t 21^st Century hardware. How did I get here?"

"I r-really d-don’t know, B-Buffy. History says you died a long time ago. Of a stroke."

"History?"

"Yeah, um, this is where it’s gonna get a little weird?"

"We passed merely weird a long time ago, Tara. We passed Sunnydale weirdness a long time ago!"

I’m not Tara."

"Descendant?"

"Actually? I think I’m Tara’s reincarnation."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "And I had trouble dealing when VampWillow showed up."

"That story is true?"

Buffy snapped. "What, they didn’t cover it in your history class?"

Katherine cringed. "Sorry."

Buffy closed her eyes, sighed, and apologized. "No, I’m sorry. It isn’t your fault I’m stressed out. OK, it’s 2130. Willow cast a spell, what, 75 years ago? And I’m in the future with her girlfriend’s reincarnation?"

"Yep."

"And the Council is trying to kill us?"

"The Council’s Competition," Katherine said. "A company called Enemy Management. The guy who runs it, Mr. Ssoj—"

"Any relation to Mr. Ssoj THE DEMON who ran Enemy Management back in my youth?"

"A demon? I knew he teamed up with Drusilla and—"

"That ho is still alive?"

"Ho?"

"Sorry, dated slang. Whore."

"Yeah the, um, ho? She’s still alive. And Mr. Ssoj teamed up with her and the Kalderash clan—"

"The Kalderash? What do they want now?"

"Vengeance?"

"It’s a little complicated . . . a lot’s happened since you died."

Buffy frowned. "If I died in a nursing home . . . how come I’m alive and in a young Slayer’s body?"

"You were reincarnated as a Slayer and—don’t ask how, ’cause I don’t know—somehow you lost all your memories of this life and . . . I g-guess your Buffy memories just came rushing back in to fill the empty spaces in your mind?"

"If I get back to my time I am going to kick Willow’s butt so bad!"

"Um, first? Don’t you dare kick Willow’s butt!"

Buffy scowled. "Because?"

"I’m dating her reincarnation!"

Buffy nodded. "Good. I can kick the butt of my best friend’s reincarnation while I’m a guest in your century."

"Better not, Buffy. In this life? I’m also a Slayer—and no one, least of all a beautiful, legendary woman, is gonna touch my lady’s butt!"

Buffy fumed for a moment, then burst into a giggle fit. "Beautiful and legendary?"

"Yeah. But I mean it, Buffy, you try to kick Jocasta’s—"

"Jocasta?"

"—butt and I’ll kick your ass back to the 21^st Century one day at a time. No body lays a hand on my girl!"

"You really are Tara, aren’t you?"

"It’s Katherine, actually, but I think I was Tara in your life."

"OK, I think I’ve got as much of the backstory as my tired Slayer brain can process just now . . . why do I have the feeling you’re holding a lot back?"

Katherine grimaced. "’Cause I think you’ve got as much of the backstory as your tired Slayer brain can process just now."

Buffy looked toward the shore. "The trees are gone."

She was right. The skimmers hovered in place.

"Why aren’t they moving?"

"The less energy they use, the faster they can power down the Termlight," Katherine said.

"Forty-five minutes, you said?"

"If we’re really lucky," Katherine said.

"If they don’t have heat sensors—"

"They may not need them," Katherine said. "One firebomb and this lake could explode!"

Cut to:

Ext., Council Tower, Night.

Cut to:

Int., Illyria’s cell.

Charles Gunn III and two armed Watcher guards continued to keep Illyria company.

The door to the cellblock slid open and Angel came in, flanked by Livia, West, Giles, Lexington, Toni and Jocasta.

Illyria stood. "Have you come to do battle, Angel?"

"How would you like to do more violence to the Senior Partners?"

"You are all prepared to serve in my cause?"

Angel smiled. "As long as I command."

Illyria tilted her blue head. "Why should I serve under your command?"

"Because I knew how to stay under the Senior Partners’ radar all those years you were in space."

Illyria was silent for a very long time.

"You may guide me to the next battle. I do not promise to follow you after that."

"If the plan works, Illyria, you won’t have to," Angel said.

FADE OUT.

To be continued in Act Four, Part Six

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5F/5G, I hope, I hope, I hope)

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT: I thought this would be the end, but there was too much tale to tell. 5G will, I hope, conclude it.

SUMMARY: See the first installment entitled "Restoration: Not Forgotten"

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5F/5G, I hope, I hope, I hope)

Act Four, Part Six

Scene Fifteen

FADE IN.

Ext., Council Troop Transport in flight, Night.

Cut to:

Int., transport.

Nearly all were present. Giles had remained behind, of course, for kings and generals no longer led troops into battle. Jocasta had also remained behind. Toni was piloting the transport. Livia stood near the sealed entrance to the cockpit. In her hand she held a ritual knife similar to the one the Harbingers used to murder Potentials in what history called the End of the Pre-Rosenberg Era. Toni had told Illyria and Angel that the knife was part of a tradition among Watchers, a remark that drew puzzled scowls from everyone else except Livia and Angel.

Illyira herself sat between Angel and Charles Gunn III. She seemed unaware of the fact that small lightening bolts writhed between each of his 10 fingertips.

Col. West appeared to be asleep. He was seated upright, his head on Angel’s shoulder. The vampire seemed a little uncomfortable. Perhaps he had noticed the metal box with a glass front located underneath their bench, positioned just behind the "sleeping" colonel’s feet. Written on the box in Irish Gaelic (a dead and mystical language little known outside academic circles) were the words: "In case of demonic or terrorist hijacking, break glass. All parties aboard craft will be transported to the hell dimension Quar'toth."

As a human, Angel was born and raised in Ireland and probably understood every syllable.

Illyria said: "You are certain that the Circle of the Black Thorn have gathered again near this . . . Puget Sound?"

Angel smiled and traced an invisible X over his chest. "Cross my heart."

"I would be comforted if your heart actually beat."

Angel snorted.

Cut to:

Ext., Council Tower, Night.

Cut to:

Int., Sebastian Giles’ private office.

Sean Rayne’s face and upper torso appeared in the form of a hologram above Giles’ desk.

"I saw something quite interesting on the news this evening, Sebastian."

"Indeed?"

"Yes, it seems Mrs. Meers was spotted—without her daughter—on the Oregon border."

"I’d not heard that. I thank you for the information." Sebastian scowled at his former friend. "Did you hear about my news conference?"

"I saw it live, Sebastian. You have become a fair public speaker. But I must say I was insulted that news of my pardon was an afterthought to your claim that a vampire with a soul—"

Giles raised the forefinger of his right hand. "His name was Angel and, whatever his sins, he took an arrow in his heart to protect Jocasta Rosenberg."

Sean laughed. "I do not know how you managed to doctor that visrec so well, Sebastian, but I dare say it might possible fool the Senior Partners—until Angel is spotted returning to the Deeper Well."

"He will not return to the Deeper Well," Giles said. "You have my word of honor as a Watcher, an Englishman and as your former friend."

"I didn’t think you had it in you to follow Mr. Tyrell’s wise example."

"I could just as easily issue a Kill On Sight By Any Means Physically Possible for you, Sean Rayne. The pardon applies only to crimes known and unknown prior to 3 p.m. this afternoon, Cleveland time. You might do well to keep your word."

"Just in case that pardon was a sham, I think I will leave the information here at this lovely restaurant. By the time you trace the link and send the police, I shall be long gone."

Rayne appeared to stand up and walk to the edge of the desktop—and then vanished.

"Computer, is the link still engaged?"

"Yes."

Cut to:

Int., an empty room somewhere in the Council Tower.

A large sign on one wall said: USE OF THIS ROOM FOR AUTHORIZED PERSONNELL ONLY; USE PERMITTED BY SIGNED COMMAND OF COUNCILORS ONLY. Except for that sign, the walls were bare.

A giant pentagram decorated the floor. At each point of the pentagram, Jocasta Rosenberg placed and lit a 1-foot high yellow candle. She then sat in the lotus position in the center of the pentagram. She turned her palms to the ceiling and closed her eyes.

In her right palm, she held a plant leaf identical to the one Sean Rayne had used to erase Janna Kalderash’s memories of herself.

Jocasta prayed in a mix of languages—Romanian, Irish Gaelic, Latin, Hebrew.

Then Jocasta very slowly inhaled and very slowly exhaled and very slowly closed her fist around the leaf.

The candles all went out. Jocasta opened her palm. The leaf was now only a charred remnant.

Cut to:

Ext., Times Square, New York, 2130, Night.

Sean Rayne suddenly dropped to his knees and clutched his head. A passerby, a homeless man, stopped and asked if he was OK. Sean threatened to kill him if he didn’t leave now.

The homeless man said "Sonofa—" and left the ex-Watcher there.

Rayne slowly rose to his feet. He staggered and leaned against the wall of a nearby building. He was pale and sweaty. "What did that bloody Watcher . . . " He closed his eyes and groaned. "Damn! They used my own memory spell against me! Clever sods!"

He started walking in the opposite direction from the one he’d been walking, but stopped cold.

Uniformed NYPC were raiding the restaurant.

"Oh, dear. They’ll be able to send Illyria back to space without me now."

He disappeared into the Times Square crowd.

Cut to:

Int., troop transport.

Illyria suddenly clutched her head and screamed and dropped off the bench. Her knees struck the floor so hard they left two kneecap-shaped dents in the metal.

Gunn stood and took a fighter’s stance. So did Angel. Col. West sat up and raised one leg—as if he meant to kick the glass of the box located beneath him.

Angel touched the small woman’s shoulder.

Winifred Burkle looked up. "Angel? D-did you find a cure? Did you cure me?"

Angel smiled sadly. "No, but I maybe bought you a little time."

Fred smiled. "Handsome man, always saving me from the monsters."

Angel looked over his shoulder toward where Livia had stood a moment before. But she was already gone. The cockpit door was open.

Cut to:

Int., the pentagram room.

The candles were gone and the lights were up. Jocasta paced the four walls.

Toni Allister’s head appeared in the form of a hologram, floating above the center of the pentagram. "It worked. "

Jocasta once again sat in the lotus position in the middle of the pentagram. She winced and rubbed her temples as blood dripped from her nose.

FADE OUT.

Scene Sixteen

FADE IN.

Ext., middle of Puget Sound, Night.

The Enemy Management skimmers dove directly toward the two exhausted women in the water.

Naturally, they swam as fast as their very tired Slayer arms and legs allowed them to swim.

The skimmers pulled out of their hard dives just 10 or 12 feet above the swimmers and arched high into the starry sky.

The two blonde Slayers stopped swimming and looked up.

"What the hell was that about?" Katherine asked.

"I. Get it," Buffy panted. "They don’t have weapons, do they?"

"Probably not much, no," Katherine said, also panting. "Demons mostly fight on the ground—not much need for arial weapons. I think the Council has an aerofighter in Vegas, but—"

"But if they charge us, we’re gonna try to swim away, right? So their plan must be for us to become so exhausted—"

"We drown," Katherine said. She looked up at the skimmers and glowered. "Now I am miffed. If only we could lure them down here."

"You know anything about flying?"

"Nothing."

"Me neither," Buffy said. She panted as she spoke and she had to stop every few words to catch her breath, but she managed to say what she was thinking: "But to. Dive that fast. And then pull. Up. That fast, they. Have to exert a. Lot of energy themselves. They don’t. Pull up. In time. Gravity. Will pull them. Into the lake."

"So?"

"You ever heard. Of Mahatma Gandhi?"

"The pacifist?"

Buffy nodded. "He said. People should. Always. Resist injustice. We stay put."

"I don’t—" But Katherine’s eyes suddenly widened as she did, in fact, get it. "They. Start to. Pull up. When we. Try to. Get away."

"They might. Crash into. Us, but—"

"Worth it," Katherine said. "If we take them. With us."

Buffy smiled at Tara’s reincarnation. "Always knew Tara. Was a warrior. At heart."

The skimmers once again dived at the two women.

The two Slayers held their hands above their heads and waved at their would-be murderers. Daring their enemies to just try and counting on gravity to be their friend.

Cut to:

Ext., Council troop transport.

Cut to:

Int., Council transport.

Angel knelt beside Illyria, now wearing her Fred look, and hugged the weeping woman who sobbed words with a Texas accent. Illyria apparently "remembered" only those events that occurred just prior to Fred’s death. For all practical purposes, she was Fred—albeit without a soul.

Then different colored auras of bright light suddenly surrounded and rapidly enveloped Illyria, Col. West, the mystical self-destruct device underneath Col. West and Charles Gunn the III. Illyira was enveloped in blue light. A white light enveloped Col. West and the metallic box. A green light enveloped Gunn.

Angel watched with a look of anxiety and confusion on his face—as if someone had only told him part of whatever plan might be unfolding.

Suddenly, the Watcher, the dead woman possessed by a demon and the descendant of Angel’s old comrade were gone—and the doomsday weapon also.

Angel was alone in the transport vessel with the Slayer Livia Hansen.

"I guess they needed Col. West back at the Council," Livia said. "The white light always sends people to the Council."

Angel scowled, as if he doubted her veracity.

"You wanna go to the cockpit? The astronomy outfit should be able to tell us if Illyria’s in space in about five or 10 minutes."

"Damn. It was like watching her die all over again."

Livia gave him a sympathetic look. "If anyone can restore Winifred Burkle’s soul, it’ll be Jocasta Rosenberg. But for now, everyone’s a lot safer with Illyria floatin’ in orbit—even if she does think she’s your old pal."

Angel slowly, reluctantly, nodded and rose to his feet. He walked to the cockpit. He moved slowly, like a tired old man who has forever given up hope.

He did not seem to see Livia follow him into the cockpit.

Cut to:

Ext., barren ground along the shore of Puget Sound, Night.

A man-sized ball of green light appeared, shifted into a man-like shape and slowly faded, until all that remained was an actual man: Charles Gunn III.

He looked up and quickly scanned the sky for a sign of his prey.

He saw the skimmers. "Little farther than I’d like, but let’s see if I can at least nick ’em."

He pantomimed the movements of a baseball pitcher—and flung a ball of electrical energy at one of the two skimmers—

—just as they began a steep dive toward the Sound.

Cut to:

Int., pentagram room, Council Tower.

White balls of light brought Col. West and the Quar'toth-teleportation box back to the Council.

Jocasta, her nose now oozing blood, passed out.

Col. West ran to the door, calling for medics and security. When he returned to Jocasta, he found an old fashioned book. He scowled and glanced inside the cover.

"Diary of Rowena Alistair?"

Cut to:

Ext., Earth as seen from space.

Cut to:

Space itself.

The blue light brought something that looked like Winifred Burkle into airless space.

Fortunately, or unfortunately, the Winifred Burkle form morphed back into the Illyria form. She scowled and her face darkened as she mouthed words that could not be heard because sound does not travel in space. "This. Will. Not. Do. Someone. Will. Suffer. For. This."

Cut to:

Int., cockpit of Council troop transport, 15 minutes later.

"You wanna see for yourself?" Toni Allister asked.

Angel said, "Sure," and leaned over her shoulder to look at the small display screen on the control panel.

There was Illyria, floating in space, shaking her fist angrily as she twirled slowly over the Earth.

Angel started to say something, but Livia’s arm circled his throat—and he suddenly looked very pained.

Angel sank to his knees. Livia stepped back. In her hand, the long knife blade was covered entirely with Angel’s red blood.

Toni did not speak. She piloted the transport as if nothing unusually had occurred. The transport started to bank to the left and a small, empty vile rolled noisily across the cockpit floor.

FADE OUT.

To Be Continued in what I hope and pray is the final installment—Act Four, Part Seven

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5G/ 5G)

DISCLAIMER: I trust by now you know none of these characters belong to me, right?

DISTRIBUTION: Ask and I shall approve.

SPOILERS: Buffy, Seasons 1 thru 7; Angel, Seasons 1 thru 5; Watcher’s Season 1

RATING: PG-13

COMMENT:

SUMMARY: See the first installment entitled "Restoration: Not Forgotten"

RESTORATION: . . . Not Forgotten (part 2) (5G/5G)

Act Four, Part Seven

Scene Seventeen

FADE IN.

Ext., middle of Puget Sound, Night.

Cut to:

Middle of Puget Sound.

The two blonde Slayers looked up and saw the skimmers diving for them. They continued to wave and even began to shout dares at their would-be murderers—but they ceased shouting when it looked as though . . .

It looked to the naked eye as though a net of lightening suddenly cloaked one of the skimmers. Then the "net of lightening" disappeared and it looked like the skimmer might continue—until it suddenly lurched. The other skimmer immediately began to pull out of the dive it had just barely begun.

Buffy said, "No, it’s too good to—"

One of the skimmers suddenly seemed to blow apart—and the larger part seemed to spout a man-sized ball of flame.

Katherine yelled, "DIVE!" released Buffy’s hand, gulped a mouthful of air and went under.

Buffy followed her example—and followed Tara’s look-alike under the surface.

Cut to:

Ext., Enemy Management skimmers, in flight, diving toward the Sound, about 1 minute earlier.

Cut to:

Int., one of the Enemy Management skimmers.

Skimmers usually seat just two people—but this particular skimmer was apparently built for officers of Enemy Management. It could have comfortably seated six and was only occupied by four people. Well, four beings anyway: in the front seats sat the pilot and Mr. Ssoj; in the seat directly behind them sat Mr. Kalderash and Drusilla. She was behind the pilot. Kalderash was behind Ssoj.

The control panel suddenly started flashing and a computer generated voice said: "Incoming! Incoming!"

Drusilla nibbled her right thumbnail. Kalderash began to pray to his God. Ssoj smiled serenely, as if the outcome didn’t matter to him one way or another. The pilot said, "Deploying counter measures," and touched several spots on the control panel.

The skimmer suddenly lurched to one side. The entire control panel exploded in a thick shower of sparks. The pilot’s uniform burst into flame.

Drusilla screamed in terror.

Ssoj yelled: "Lever on your right ejects! Lever on your right ejects!"

Kalderash, perhaps forgetting that his mistress was a vampire, fastened her seatbelt and made sure it was secure before he fastened his own.

Ssoj yelled: "Ready?"

Drusilla continued shrieking incoherently in fear. As a vampire (or human, for that matter) might when seated directly behind a man who is burning alive.

Kalderash yelled: "Ready!"

Ssoj slammed his palm against something on the interior side of the craft. The top suddenly blew off the skimmer. Wind whipped through their faces.

Ssoj ejected himself first. Kalderash grabbed and pulled the lever on Drusilla’s seat—and she was ejected first. He was reaching for the lever to eject his own seat when—

—Kalderash saw the nose of the skimmer slam into the surface of Puget Sound.

FADE OUT.

Scene Eighteen

FADE IN.

Int., pentagram room, Council Tower.

The medics carried Jocasta Rosenberg out of the room. One of them told Councilor Sebastian Giles that Ms. Rosenberg would be fine with a day or two’s rest.

Eight armed security guards took charge of the mysterious Quar’toth box.

Giles said, "Lights on," and an unseen computer flooded the room with harsh light.

Col. West handed him Rowena Alistair’s diary. "Ms. Allister left out part of the story. Apparently, the fact Angel was alive was not the only secret Rowena Alistair had passed from mother to daughter and from daughter to granddaughter."

"Willow Rosenberg’s idea, I take it?"

"I only skimmed the diary, sir, so I can’t be sure, but—does it matter? The plan, to be taken without approval of the Council if it became necessary to defy orders—"

"Just between us, Col. West, unquestioning obedience can sometimes do more harm than good," Giles said.

"The plan was to stab Angel in the back," West said. "Literally."

"I don’t—Oh. But I do see. But what if the plan didn’t work as intended?"

"Plan B was to stake him. I think Jocasta teleported me back here to make sure Plan A could be implemented."

"And how would Plan B be implemented?"

"I believe that’s why Livia was left behind on the transport—in case a Slayer had to kill Angel again. Only this time, he might not come back."

"It is quite amazing," Giles said. "All these plots hatched over the past 126 years . . . with redundancies and counter-measures and contingencies all accounted for. And yet I wonder if any of the plans worked out."

"That’s twice now Toni Allister has held back secrets from the Council."

"Let us wait and see how events unfold, Col. West. I agree she needs to be disciplined . . . but family obligations are quite powerful. If they were not, blood feuds would not last for so many generations."

Cut to:

Ext., underside of an old bridge in northern Oregon, Night.

Lady Maxine Meers, reincarnation of the mother of Warren Meers, wiped blood off her chin with the back of her hand. She spat on the ground. "You had a terrible iron deficiency."

The homeless family she had slaughtered did not reply.

She walked over to an abandoned ground vehicle and pulled on the door until the lock mechanism gave and it broke open. She climbed into the vehicle and cowered in the back seat.

"Somehow, on my life, so to speak, I will get back to Cleveland and kill that Rosenberg family once and for all."

She probably meant it. Someday, she might even achieve that goal. But for now she cowered alone in the night—and dreaded the inevitable rising of the sun.

Cut to:

Ext., barren land on shore of Puget Sound.

Drusilla waded out of the water, hissing and spitting. She looked at her clothes and whined—and staggered off into the night. The moon was rising ever higher in the sky. Plenty of time to seek shelter . . . if she was both very fast and very lucky.

"Wish we hadn’t burned down the Summers house now."

Cut to:

Another part of the barren shore of Puget Sound.

Mr. Ssoj crawled out of the water on all fours. Once on land, he stopped to heave. Once he finished retching, he continued crawling.

Cut to:

Ext., sky above Puget Sound.

The remaining Enemy Management skimmer made another dive toward the surface of the Sound—when two beams of blue-green light cut the midnight sky.

And sliced the skimmer into three parts, all three of which burst into balls of flame.

In the Sound itself, two blonde women gulped for air and ducked under the surface once more.

Cut to:

Charles Gunn III, standing at the shore.

A booming voice came from someplace.

"ATTENTION! WE ARE WITH THE WATCHER’S COUNCIL OF CLEVELAND! WE CANNOT LAND! WE WILL DROP A FLOATATION DEVICE NEAR YOU! PLEASE WAIT FOR THE COUNCIL TRANSPORT VEHICLE!"

Gunn watched as a fast moving . . . thing . . . like a torpedo, but big as a house and with . . . flapping wings? . . . dropped something onto the surface of Puget Sound.

He hesitated. "Mama said water an’ electricity don’t mix." He looked out at the lake—and at the flaming remains of the skimmer that had just exploded and fallen to earth. "But a man can’t leave two women alone out there, either."

Gunn stripped down to his briefs and socks and, pinching his nose, jumped into Puget Sound to go help two very tired Slayers.

FADE OUT.

Scene Nineteen

FADE IN.

Int., Councilor Sebastian Giles’ office, many days later.

Sunlight came in through one of the windows.

Janna Kalderash, also known as Buffy Summers, sat at his desk.

"Still feeling disoriented . . . should I call you Ms. Kalderash or Ms. Summers?"

"Well, my lawyer says I should stick with Kalderash until the mental healthy agency official certifies me sane again . . . "

Giles smiled. "I should not imagine that will be difficult. Your father—Janna Kalderash’s father—kissed an obvious vampire in the presence of the head of Enemy Management, Inc. Neither your father nor Enemy Management or Mr. Ssoj . . . where ever he may be . . . will be causing us any further difficulty."

"Is the Council going to try to take over Kalderash International?"

Giles nodded. "You’d be welcome to run it on our behalf—"

"Hello? Legally, I might be Janna Kalderash but I’m really Buffy Summers and . . . I don’t know how to earn a living in this century."

"We will give you all the aide we can," Giles said. "No one here, no one who knows your unique situation, will blame you if you feel overwhelmed."

"Believe me when I say, ‘Uh huh’," said Buffy. "And it doesn’t help that I remember half the people I’ve met . . . and none of them ever knew me."

"Actually, you are quite the celebrity here," Giles said. "Jocasta Rosenberg did her dissertation on you."

Buffy smiled. "It was so cool to see her kiss Tara—I mean, Katherine. If that Meers jerk—"

"He, she rather, appears to be gone for good. Mrs. Meers hasn’t been caught yet but she is always alone when she is spotted and no one has seen the girl Lesley Warren Meers."

"Then Warren’s really gone," Buffy said. "He couldn’t do anything without friends—and he never had one."

Giles said: "Computer, please close the windows."

Metal doors slid down over the windows, blocking out the sunlight. Artificial light simultaneously filled the office.

"What the—"

"Jocasta insisted I introduce you to a friend of hers. I was, I confess, reluctant at first but she gave me a look that can only be described as—"

Buffy laughed. "Resolve Face? Angel once told me he’d rather kiss a cross than deal with Resolve Face."

Sebastian Giles laughed. "The vampire was wise, Ms. Kalderash." He frowned. "You know, you can have your name legally changed once your sanity is officially recognized once more." Then, still smiling, he said: "Computer, let them in please."

The door to the office slid open. A small entourage entered: Col. West, Livia Hansen, Toni Allister (clad in civilian clothes—because she was temporarily suspended without pay), Lexington Harris, Jocasta (also clad in civilian clothes—because she was on medical leave) and Katherine.

And behind them all, a tall dark fellow with a brooding-addiction problem.

Buffy gasped: "Angel?"

He stood there, looking as stunned as he had the night he saw Vampire Willow.

She ran to him, stood on her toes and gave him a hard kiss. Her hands slid down his chest. Then she froze and stiffened.

Buffy burst into tears.

Angel said: "What’s the—"

She punched his chest with both fists. "I felt your heartbeat!" She hit him again. "You’re not Angel!"

Livia smiled: "Is now. Turns out, you pour a little Mohra blood on a knife and stab a vamp with a soul—"

Toni said: "He becomes a man."

Buffy stared at Angel.

He didn’t say anything.

Then he stepped forward and kissed her again.

After a little while, Buffy kissed back.

When both their tongues became visible to their audience, the Watchers and Slayers beat a hasty (and rather embarrassed) retreat.

FADE OUT.

Scene Twenty

FADE IN.

Cut to:

Ext., Los Angeles offices of the New Wolfram & Hart, Day.

Cut to:

Int., a conference room.

Cut to:

A holographic image hovering above a conference table. The image: A tall man in a tuxedo and a petite blonde in a white wedding gown, kissing each other before a Catholic priest.

Several men stood around the conference table. The only woman there was the late Lilah Morgan, once more brought up to Earth from Hell to investigate a reported Angel sighting. (Turns out that, since about 2060, Angel sightings HAD surpassed Elvis sightings in frequency.)

Lilah shook her head and said: "That isn’t him, sir. It can’t be."

"You had best be certain," one of the men said.

"Or you’ll make my Eternal Damnation even more unpleasant? Good luck with that."

Another man said: "I realize it is unusual for a vampire to be in a church, but Angelus himself once strangled a priest in the confessional."

The voice of a newscaster said: ". . . And there is Mr. Galway’s best man."

The holographic image shifted to see Charles Gunn III shaking Angel’s right hand with both of his.

The voice of another journalist said: "The family has refused to identify the man by name, but he is rumored to be the new Guardian of the Deeper Well. The fact the bride was given away by the head of the Watcher’s Council would tend to . . . "

Lilah said: "Trust me, sir, no Giles would ever officiate at the wedding of a Slayer’s reincarnation to a vampire—with or without a soul."

The holographic image shifted again, to the exterior of the church.

The man who now called himself Liam A. Galway was kissing the woman who had recently changed her name to Elizabeth Anne Galway. "Buffy" to her friends of course.

One of the reporters prattled on about the bride, who taught self-defense to high school girls, and the groom, who taught Irish Gaelic, Irish history, and vampire lore to Watchers and Slayers under the age of 14 . . .

"Call me when you get a report of Angel actually drinking blood. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go help William the Bloody torture a loser named Warren Meers." Lilah got up from the table, went out the door and took her elevator back down to Hell.

Cut to:

Ext., a Catholic Church in Miami, day.

The Watchers and Slayers threw birdseed at the happy couple as they climbed into a luxury skimmer.

Giles and Livia stood on either side of Katherine and Jocasta. The blonde and the red head were crying but their smiles were wide. Livia said: "The dude was right."

Giles asked what dude.

"What’shisname? The one who said: ‘Though lovers be lost, love is not and death shall have no dominion’."

Giles, Jocasta and Katherine gaped at her.

"Hey, Southie girls can read too!"

THE END.

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