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FADE UP - INT. SHOT OF HIGH, STAINED-GLASS WINDOWS. Light streams in through them, although they are faded in areas and somewhat coated with soot and dust. We PAN DOWN smoothly and simultaneously PULL BACK to show the interior of a CHURCH, narrow in width, with a small, plainly finished altar at the front. The altar grows visually smaller as the camera DOLLIES BACK between rows of pews. DOLLY SHOT until we pass through a tall, arched doorway at the rear of the sanctuary and then turn 90 degrees to the left and keep going. As the turn is completed, we see the FRONT DOORS to the church on the right, where despite a lot of shadows, careful viewers will notice a LARGE WOODEN BEAM laid across thick metal bars, rendering the doors UNOPENABLE. We pass through an ordinary doorway into a room that looks like a cross between an office and a storeroom, go on through another doorway and DOWN A FLIGHT OF STAIRS, then through a basement hallway, past several other doors, finally into a SMALL ROOM containing a bed and simple furnishings. We slow, almost stop, then PULL BACK one more time until we are in what looks like a "cold cellar". The very narrow, not more than five-foot-high doorway is centered in the frame. In a high-contrast shot, light from the room shines through it, but the cold cellar is all darkness within. We finally stop moving entirely. Several seconds pass, then several more. Finally, we hear a faint creaking sound, which gets abruptly louder. CUT TO - INT. THE TINY BEDROOM OUTSIDE THE COLD CELLAR - DAY POV - Looking at the thin door from the opposite side from last shot. The space inside the doorway frame is PITCH BLACK. The creaking sound ends with a "thunk" noise, and there is a soft sound, like a mumbled whisper, or a ghost moving about. We take a short beat, and then a face appears out of the blackness, followed a second later by a body below it. (tired, and slightly incredulous) It's still here. I'll be damned. ILLYRIA (blue) follows behind him, emerging from the doorway in the same out-of-the-pitch-black manner. She looks around the tiny room as GUNN is doing. One of the odder expressions you humans are frequently prone to utter. As if you are not already in this state by virtue of merely existing. ANGEL emerges next, followed by SPIKE. Where are we? GUNN In the basement level of an old monastery. I found this place by accident a bunch of years ago when I got separated from my boys--we were running the tunnels blindly, trying to get away from a pack of some really nasty Shoduh demons. Anyway, I got all turned around, came up here, and the brothers took care of me until I could get back home. For a few months after that, I came back here every few weeks, whenever things were getting really hard to handle. It was a kind of haven. You know-- quiet, peaceful. Apart from the world. As Gunn relates his story, Illyria stands silently in the middle of the room with an unfocussed stare, as if communing with the walls. Angel eyes the door that leads out into the hallway and moves towards it, then peers carefully out into the hall. Spike rummages around the room absent-mindedly, picking up books, candlestick holders, an inkwell, etc. He comes across a statue of the Virgin Mary standing on the plain wooden nightstand beside the bed, picks it up, stares at the face of the statue for several long seconds, then simply replaces it where it was with a softly murmured 'hummff'. He slides open the drawer of the nightstand, reaches into it without really looking, and suddenly yells-- Yaahhhhh! --a deafening sound in the dead quiet of the tiny room. Spike's arm snaps back away from the drawer, as a SMALL CRUCIFIX drops over the front panel and falls onto the floor. Angel and Gunn both jump. Illyria remains immobile and unperturbed. A SMALL WISP OF SMOKE rises up from Spike's palm, and he shakes it vigorously to help dissipate the pain. Angel and Gunn see what the cause of the outcry was, and roll their eyes at the same time. Angel turns and walks out the door into the hallway. Gunn puts one hand over the center of his chest. Yo, Spike--I've already got an aching gut, I don't need a heart attack on top of it. SPIKE (slightly pissed, but mostly sheepish) Ye-a-ahh, a haven, eh? (rubs his palm) Well, I feel right at home. GUNN It's not a regular church anymore--it's a place of refuge. The monks almost never leave the building. ILLYRIA (finally moves) Then how do they obtain food? She doesn't wait for an answer before heading out the door into the hallway. Spike and Gunn follow her. INT. HALLWAY - DAY We see Angel about halfway up the length of the hall, carefully pushing open doors leading into other SLEEPING ROOMS as he goes. There is no noise or any other response from inside any of the rooms, but the FAINT SOUND OF CHANTING of some kind can be heard coming from above the stairs. That's kinda fascinating. I asked one of the senior monks the exact same question one time. They have a good- sized vegetable garden in the central courtyard, but he told me that they depended primarily on the generosity of visitors from the outside, people like me who came here by accident and found solace in their spiritual lifestyle. ANGEL And how do you think they'll feel about two vampires and a demon moving in? GUNN Hey, we're all fighting the good fight in whatever way we can, aren't we? SPIKE Uhmmm, broken record here. And for that matter, do monks usually fight? GUNN They do every Tuesday night on Channel 99 Wuxia Theatre. ANGEL Yeah. Did you even see "Crouching Tiger"? GUNN Look, we need someplace to regroup, right? Well, who would think of looking for us in a church? There's no place safer. Not only that, one of the brothers here was a doctor before he "got the call." He looks after the health of the others, brings them medicine and stuff. Dunno if he's still here, though, he was pretty old when I saw him last. He'd know how to use those drugs you got for me. ILLYRIA I can administer the potions if you wish. By now I have acquired a detailed knowledge of human anatomy and the quaint electrochemical underpinnings which allow your inefficient systems to function. GUNN (somewhat surprised) Really? You know about the right doses and everything? ILLYRIA Doses? SPIKE (chuckles) Don't worry there, Charley. I'll make her read the directions first. ANGEL (sighs, heads up the steps) Well, time to go meet our salvation. As Angel says this, the camera PANS UPWARD, CGI-ing "through" the ceiling of the basement and over into the SANCTUARY OF THE CHURCH. From the side of the room, we see a LINE OF MONKS IN CASSOCKS passing between the pews as Gregorian chants ring through the air. We cannot see their faces from this angle. The camera PULLS LEFT and reveals an ANCIENT-LOOKING MONK standing behind a pillar at the side of the chapel. He seems oddly nervous, and repeatedly darts glances over at his chanting brothers, as if waiting for something to happen to them. Finally, as the other monks reach the front of the sanctuary, he runs silently towards the back of the room and slips out the large central doorway. As he does so, the chanting ABRUPTLY CEASES, and the surrounding space becomes utterly quiet. The group of monks turn, seemingly as one, and look back towards the rear of the church. Seeing nothing, they turn back and the CHANTING CONTINUES right where it left off. INT. MONASTERY MAIN FLOOR - DAY THE TOP OF THE STAIRS LEADING INTO THE OFFICE/STOREROOM. Angel emerges and looks about the room, which is brightly lit compared to the basement area, the morning sun just coming up and shining in the windows. The light is filtered somewhat by virtue of the soot and dust coating the window glass, but Angel hesitates, and gingerly checks by waving an arm to see if the intensity is within vampire-safe levels. He winces slightly, and draws his hand back. Illyria, Gunn and Spike have topped the stairs now also, and Spike sees Angel draw back from the windows. (jovial) Oh, and a lovely little room we have here! All bright and cheery and flame-inducing. ANGEL I'm sure there's another way 'round. This was just the direction that the chants were the loudest. (turns, heads back to the stairs) I'm going to go look around a bit more. (beat) Want to come along, Spike, or do you need to work on your tan? SPIKE Pale is in this year, mate. Don't you follow fashion? GUNN The main chapel has stained glass, but it still gets pretty bright in some places. Maybe you guys will have to hang out below until late afternoon or early evening. Probably best if I see the brothers first anyway. I'm sure at least some of them will remember me. ILLYRIA You are still not fully functional, Charles. This might be a good time to administer your healing agents. ANGEL (heading down the first few steps, looks back over his shoulder) That's a good idea. You sure you can handle this, Illyria? Illyria merely glares at Angel dismissively, and does not give a verbal reply. (shrugs) O.K. then. Scream if you need us, Gunn. We'll probably hear you. GUNN (nervously) Probably? ILLYRIA I would suggest that you sit on that table there, with your left side facing the window. It will provide an optimal approach for me. Spike follows Angel down the stairs as Illyria unshoulders the SACK OF SUPPLIES. She reaches into the sack and pulls out the bottles of antibiotics, the vodka, some syringes, cotton balls, and the various other treatments taken from the hospital a few hours ago. Gunn watches with incredulity as Illyria deftly checks the label of the first bottle, unzips the plastic wrapper from the syringe, stabs the needle through the bottle seal, fills it partway with liquid, clears the bubbles, and then turns to him. (matter-of-factly) Present your left arm, please. GUNN (now looking very nervous) Gee, that...really looks...sharp...there. ILLYRIA Charles. This is a trivial course of action compared to the bending of time and space, and that procedure is one that requires only a minor portion of my total mental resources to accomplish. (she pauses briefly, then) Or, it did. GUNN (uuhhh...) Ah...hah. ILLYRIA Arm. GUNN (wincing up at Illyria warily--please don't kill me, please don't kill me) O.K. (holds it out) Gunn looks away as Illyria quickly swabs the injection site with a cotton ball and some of the vodka. She positions the needle a short distance above his skin. He closes his eyes and tenses for what he is certain will be a degree of agony from a violent stabbing effort. As the needle pierces his skin, Gunn's face relaxes slowly. Illyria injects the medication with gentle efficiency--he feels only the faintest tingling sensation for barely a second, which then recedes almost instantly. He reopens his eyes to see Illyria filling a second syringe with the contents of another bottle of medication. He looks down at his arm, where the puncture mark can barely be seen. (astounded) Damn! When did you learn how to do that? ILLYRIA (clearing the bubbles in the second syringe) Learn? INT. BASEMENT LEVEL OF THE MONASTERY - DAY A large room, a primary storehouse and workshop area for the monks. Boxes filled with canned goods and other items are piled on shelves, while the main area of the floor is filled with pieces of furniture, lamps, bookcases, etc., in partial states of disassembly. One wall is lined with long workbenches and other tools. (puzzled) So what's all this about? They planning to do a guest spot on 'This Old Church'? ANGEL (quietly impressed) No, I've seen this before. There are Orders that collect old furniture and stuff that could be fixed up, but that people can't afford to pay for. Stuff too well made to just throw out. They repair it, and give it back. You pay them whatever you can afford, and it doesn't have to be money--it can be with some service in return. Food, plumbing work, roof repairs, whatever. SPIKE So. They help the hapless, eh? Angel doesn't respond, just stares around the room. And you know, that Jesus fellow was a carpenter, or so they say. Angel wanders around the room, touching several pieces of furniture as he does so. He begins to speak without looking back at Spike. (pensively) And among the things he built were crosses for the Romans to crucify people on. Fellow Jews, just like him. SPIKE (taken slightly aback) Uhh, yeah, but...that was the early Jesus, wa'n't it? ANGEL (quietly, touching a finished table, sleek with new varnish under a heavy coating of dust) People change. A pause, then - INT. THE MAIN FLOOR OFFICE - DAY Illyria and Gunn have finished up with the injections, and Illyria is stashing the various items back into the tote while Gunn stares out the window. His POV - we can see a few trees, and what looks like the remnants of some shrubbery. You haven't said anything to the others yet. GUNN (slightly absent-mindedly, without turning from the window) Ummh.. about what? ILLYRIA About what happened after the confrontation with your soldiers and that frightened woman in the street. GUNN (long pause, but continues staring outside) Yeah, well...don't think I want to just yet. Maybe that'll just be between you and me. ILLYRIA (beat) Angel would be angry if he knew. He does not trust me, and if you fail to tell him, he may not trust you in future. GUNN Maybe. But it's my call. (pause) Have you figured out how it happened? ILLYRIA No. It is still inexplicable. I originally considered that it might be stray mystical energy catalyzed via the dragon's stone but then immediately dismissed that as a possibility. GUNN Why? I had thought about that angle myself. It is a talisman, after all, and it opens portals. ILLYRIA I did not open a portal. I caused time to bend. It is not the same. And you informed us in Fasach that use of the stone requires the craft of a potent sorcerer, which I am not. My own connection to the mystical is not shaped in that manner. GUNN (ponders) Maybe it's not mystical. Maybe... (pause) Maybe it's like a battery...you know, the rechargeable kind? You think that they're dead, your cell phone or flashlight or whatever stops working, then an hour or so later there's just enough juice to make another call, or light the light. Then they really are gone. Illyria gets the same distant look in her eyes that she had earlier in the alleyway shortly after the time-bending incident. She raises one hand near her face, almost touching it with her fingers. A small blue electrical spark arcs between one finger and the side of her face for a few seconds, then stops. Her eyes refocus to the room as the hand drops back down to her side. Interesting. Possible... Yet another aspect of this skein of odd magicks that is your 'science'. GUNN (chuckles softly) Yeah, it has some advantages. Plus...way less chanting. ILLYRIA (beat, head tilt) True. She looks over towards the doorway, where the rhythmic CHANTING SOUNDS from the monks carry on unabated. Gunn continues to stare out through the soot-darkened window glass. We should go to see your friends now. I assume it would be best if I change my appearance again. GUNN (still staring outside) Yeah, O.K. They're pretty accepting, though. ILLYRIA They would accept a demon? In a human holy place? I have my doubts. GUNN (turns away from the window, faces Illyria) That leather getup may be a bit intense, but outwardly you're still mostly human in appearance. ILLYRIA-F (shifts to Fred form and voice) But I'm not human. (and back to Illyria voice) Am I? GUNN Right now that doesn't really matter. ILLYRIA-F Because I look like her? GUNN (a beat, then...) No. There is a long silence, and we suddenly realize that the CHANTING HAS STOPPED, had in fact stopped about twenty seconds ago. (relieved) Finally! I hate to interrupt them when they're doing that. They get really deep into a meditative state, and if you break into that by speaking, it's kind of jarring to them. Let's go introduce ourselves, tell them about.... THE CHANTING BEGINS AGAIN. Something is not right. GUNN (suddenly wary) Uh, yeah, but how do you know that? ILLYRIA-F (tilts her head, listens intently) The cadence is perfect, exactly as it was the previous four times. GUNN Well, they do get into a groove sometimes, but this has been a mighty long one, even for them. (looks out the window) We're at least an hour after sunrise, and they should be heading off to get some breakfast way before now. The early morning rites are rarely over a half-hour. ILLYRIA-F (looking directly at Gunn) The repetition is too perfect. The spacing of the sounds are replicated within milliseconds. Even musically advanced humans are incapable of such precision. GUNN (baffled) You're saying it's a machine? Some recording we're hearing? ILLYRIA-F I'm saying we should approach your friends with great caution. CUT TO - INT. ANOTHER STAIRWAY LEADING TO GROUND LEVEL Spike and Angel are nearing the top of it. The SOUNDS OF THE CHANTING MONKS are much louder than they were before, as if they are in the immediate vicinity. What's with the see me/feel me/touch me/heal me bit? They've been going on for half-past forever already. Don't they ever bleeding stop? ANGEL Monks, chants. It's a thing. If we stay here, we're gonna have to get used to it. INT. THE CHAPEL - DAY The LINE OF MONKS is passing in front of the pews near the altar. Gunn and Illyria/Fred cautiously enter from the back of the room. Seeing the monks, Gunn begins to walk down the center aisle. As he reaches the half-way point, he begins to call out - Hello? Brother Hobbes? Brother Rosen? Calvin? Are you still here? (beat) It's Charles Gunn--do you remember me? The chanting stops. The monks appear to turn about and look at Gunn. Before Gunn can utter another word, he's stunned to see what appeared to be the wooden floorboards of the aisle turn from a mahogany color to a MOTTLED, SICKLY-LOOKING PALE BEIGE, AND THEN BEGINNING TO MOVE LIKE FLOWING LIQUID. Even more horrifying is the sight of the "brothers," who are likewise dissolving and then changing into DARK RED SCALY SPINES, the tips of which each have a pair of HUMAN-LIKE EYEBALLS attached to them. All of the sets of eyes are now trained on Gunn, as what was the "floor" rounds up to become the body of a HIDEOUS CENTIPEDE-LIKE CREATURE COMPLETE WITH A PAIR OF SHARP, NASTY PINCERS SURROUNDING ITS MOUTH. (backing away fast) No, you probably don't. THE CREATURE twists and heaves, its mouth contorts, and a DEAFENING BELLOW emerges that sounds just like the chanting, but at ten times the normal speed and about 120 decibels. The walls of the church cause the already enormous sound level to REVERBERATE, stretching out the din and rattling the stained-glass windows. Gunn clamps his hands tightly over his ears and turns to run. The creature starts after him. Illyria has shifted back into her normal appearance, and is already tearing up the aisle, headed right for the beast. She passes Gunn and launches herself onto the top of the creature's head, but as she raises a fist to punch down hard onto its skull, the monster snaps back its head and throws her off. She arcs over to one side and CRASHES DOWN into the pews, which crack, splinter and break loose from the floor on impact. She gets back up and slowly limps away. From the front of the chapel, we see Angel and Spike heading in the creature's direction, but it moves so quickly they are unable to catch up to it before it reaches Gunn, who is nearly at the doorway to the sanctuary. The beast raises its head several feet off the floor, curls back slightly and moves to strike, but at the last instant the OLD MONK we saw earlier appears and shoves Gunn to the side, causing the demon to miss him and smack its face roughly into the floor of the aisle. The demon bellows once more in pain, and the front third of its body lifts off the floor, writhing about madly. We can see Angel, Spike and Gunn each lying on the floor in different locations, all HOLDING HANDS OVER EARS AND GRIMACING. A small crack opens in one wall from the vibration, and plaster chips and dust drift down from it onto the floor. Suddenly, the creature stops bellowing, and the eyes on its spines start looking around for its prey. Gunn scrambles up off the floor and drags the old monk with him, hoping to hide from the demon long enough for Angel, Spike and Illyria to mount another assault. Together, they dodge behind the pews, but too slowly. The old monk is winded and dazed, and doesn't manage to hide completely before the demon spots him. It snaps downward again and bites the monk on the leg. Gunn's still half-deafened, but recovers his wits - Get off him, you sonofa--! Putting everything he's got into it, Gunn punches the creature hard right in the center of its face, and the demon pulls back again. It bellows once more, but not quite as loudly. Gunn pulls the wounded and bleeding monk further under the pews to temporary safety. The demon, moving more cautiously now, tries to figure out a way to get at them, but it's too large to fit between the pews. Hey! The creature turns to see Angel, who is up near the altar holding a good-sized CHUNK OF WOOD from the broken pews that Illyria crashed into. Illyria, heads up! He throws the piece of wood over to Illyria, who is already making another dive for the demon's head. She catches it in midair, lands on top of the demon and instantly RAMS THE THICK WOOD BEAM DOWNWARD like a spear into the creature's skull. The wood splinters, barely making a mark on the creature's natural armor. Illyria jumps off, not waiting for the beast to flip her a second time. (yelling as loud as he can) The eyes! Cut off all the eyes, then it can't see us! ANGEL (yelling back) With what? There's no weapons here! GUNN (getting an inspiration) The face! Try the face, it was sensitive there, remember? When it hit the floor the first time? Illyria runs towards the front of the church, grabbing another PIECE OF BROKEN LUMBER from the damaged pews on the way. Spike does the same, and they begin to BEAT AWAY on the back of the beast, causing it to turn around and move towards the altar. 'ats right, get yer nose right up here, buggy boy-- give us a nice shot at it! He dodges the snapping pincers as the creature lunges at him and tries to stab it in the face with the jagged wood. The creature dodges the thrust, then swings its head back and knocks Spike to the side, slamming him against a nearby wall and knocking him out. Illyria starts lining up her shot, but the demon is learning quickly, and before she is in midthrow, it tosses her backward past the altar and against the front most wall, directly underneath a large bronze metal cross. The impact shakes the wall so violently that the cross breaks loose from its mounts, and plummets downward, nearly hitting the already stunned Illyria, who twists out of its path just in time. CUT TO - Angel, eyes on Illyria. He turns back around. (yells) Gunn!! GUNN (still back with the old monk) Yeah, what? ANGEL Get out in the aisle! Draw its attention again, I've got an idea! GUNN You got it! (to the monk) Stay here, I'll be back for you, O.K.? Gunn clambers out from behind the pew, stands right in the center of the aisle, and yells at the beast. It turns around and roars again, evidently recognizing its original prey. As it sets off for Gunn, Angel CALLS OUT TO IT from the front of the church. Its head swings back again. Angel climbs on top of the altar, holding the METAL CROSS with smoking hands. Before the beast can even twitch, Angel STABS THE CROSS INTO THE DEMON'S FACE with such force that it buries itself nearly up to the crossbar. Everyone braces for another room-shaking blast of noise, but the creature makes none. It writhes upwards for a few brief seconds, then collapses motionless on the floor. Angel stares at it for a beat, then jumps down off the altar, smoke still trailing from his hands as he moves. He stops a few feet in from of the dead creature, stares at it, then raises his hands, noting the reddened and blistered palms. (grimacing) You know---that really smarts. Gunn and Illyria gather around him. Suddenly, a noise from the right makes them look over. Spike holds his head as he struggles to his feet. He looks up and over at the rest of the gang, sees the ex-chameleon-centipede-demon lying with the cross buried in its brain, and stares at it. He wanders over to join the rest. And who managed this crafty little bit of blasphemy? Angel simply holds up his hands, showing the damage to them. Oh. (pause) I bet that smarts, doesn't it? Illyria It was an impressive impact. GUNN You could say that. ILLYRIA (puzzled look) I did say that. ANGEL (rolls eyes) I say we take a break. Any objections? SPIKE Nope. GUNN Nope. ILLYRIA I have no objection. ANGEL The ayes have it. Let's go get our new friend and have a proper introduction. They walk past the demon and down the aisle to the chapel exit where the old monk, his leg still bleeding from the earlier attack, is standing and staring, eyes open wide in disbelief. The monk looks at each of the gang as they pass him, then finally over to Gunn, who extends his arm, palm out for a handshake. (smiling warmly) Hey, brother, can you spare some time? The monk's eyes twinkle, and he nods his head vigorously in the affirmative. A wide smile breaks across his face. The two of them turn and follow the others. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN - INT. THE MAIN DINING ROOM IN THE MONASTERY - DAY Gunn and the old monk are communicating via sign language. (aside, to Angel) He knows sign language too? ANGEL (nods) Evidently. Dunno if it was from the Wolfram and Hart brain upgrade, or if he learned it when he was staying here before. GUNN (nods to Hobbes, turns back to the others) So, after that thing got in here, Hobbes managed to barricade the main doors to prevent any more refugees from getting lured in, but he could only do that from the inside, so he's been trapped in here for three weeks, all alone. We lucked out--he forgot about the trap door in the cold cellar. (he gives a vigorous thumbs-up gesture in the old monk's direction) You da man, Hobbes! Hobbes just nods a little, looking sort of 'aw, shucks' as he does so. Why does he not speak? GUNN It's called a "vow of silence." It has to do with gaining a higher level of spiritual purity. SPIKE Kinda like Teller, then. So which one of us gets to be Penn? Illyria looks even more baffled. Gunn and Angel both sigh and shake their heads. But the monk abruptly chuckles, causing everyone to stare at him. He pushes back away from the table, gets up off his chair and goes to retrieve another bottle of wine from a wooden box sitting to one side. He returns to the table and refills the glasses at each setting, except for the one in front of Illyria, which is untouched from the original pouring. He looks at her quizzically, gestures at the glass. (at a loss) No, thank you...I am.... (pause) O.K. SPIKE She's on a 12-step program there, Hobbes. Hobbes gets an gets an "ahh!" look on his face, reaches over, smiles and pats Illyria fondly on the shoulder. Illyria looks down at her shoulder, then up at Hobbes, then over at Spike and Gunn, who are trying not to break out laughing. Angel does a small eyebrow-raise bit, then - Brother, are you sure it's all right for us to stay here? It could easily bring you more trouble, you know. There are people.... (pause) and things...that are hunting us. Hobbes moves his arms and hands quickly in sign language gestures. Angel looks over at Gunn. It's just "Hobbes". Hobbes signs again, and then looks over at Angel. And he's asking if maybe you didn't mean "haunting"? Angel doesn't reply, but his expression darkens somewhat. Hobbes gestures to an ANCIENT-LOOKING WOODEN PLAQUE hanging up on one wall of the dining room. All eyes turn to it. It reads: ANGEL (translates) "Blessed is he who offers comfort and sanctuary." Hobbes smiles widely again, then indicates where his leg has been recently treated and bandaged by Gunn and Illyria. He spreads his arms out wide, indicating the space around him, then reaches into the folds of his robe, removes a small set of archaic-looking keys, and hands them to Angel. Angel smiles back at Hobbes and reaches out to shake his hand. Thank you. Hobbes sit back down at the table, bows his head for a few seconds in silent prayer, then looks back up. He reaches out to grasp the glass of wine in front of him, and then raises it to drink. As he finishes his quaff, there is the sound of a LOUD KNOCKING AT A DOOR somewhere outside of the room. Hobbes looks over in the direction of the sound, pauses a few seconds, then gestures to Angel to go answer it. Gunn, Illyria and Spike all look at Angel. (sighs) O.K....next one. BLACK OUT. |
Comments?
| Written by | Tyreseus and OnM |
| Executive Producer | Masquerade |
| Senior Script Editor | Anom |
| Main Credits photo credit | LittleBit |
| Angel | David Boreanaz |
| Gunn | J. August Richards |
| Illyria | Amy Acker |
| Spike | James Marsters |
"Angel the Series" is the property of
Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy.
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