Gretchen has a rollicking time hunting down Jeta in Paris. Debbie convinces Devlin that he should try to get his soul back. And Spike worries that his new girlfriend sees him merely as a sex object.
Like her older brother, Gretchen believed in doing her homework. She steps into a sidewalk cafe on a sunny late afternoon in Paris. Gretchen approaches a woman who, like her, has dark hair and is in her early forties. She is smoking a cigarette and reading the paper. "Expecting someone, Renee," Gretchen asks in French. The woman looks up at the annoying stranger. "Of course not. Yetta doesn't come out during the daytime." Gretchen sits down opposite Renee.
"American?"
"You're quick."
"It's your accent. Also, you Americans love to stick your noses in other people's business."
"You're right. Yetta kills other people, which makes it my business."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Don't try to sound naive, Renee. Not with that face."
"Many women like this face."
"Because it tells a story. Yetta, now — she's older than either of us, but still looks like a schoolgirl. Is that your thing?" Renee scoffs.
"I don't know what kind of school you went to - ," she responds before chuckling. "I wish there had been a girl at my school half as beautiful as her." Renee takes a long drag on her cigarette. "Jealous?"
"Of her," Gretchen responds, putting her right hand on Renee's left knee and smiling. Renee stares in Gretchen's blue eyes for a few seconds, then slaps Grethen's right hand, which she pulls back.
"She told me you'd be coming. Only you were supposed to be much younger. Or a man." How sexist, Gretchen thinks, assuming all Watchers were male.
"I have to say, you must be incredibly good. Otherwise she would have killed you by now. You keep it up, she'll let you hang on for another week."
"She's not at my apartment. I don't know where she is."
"Except when she's with you."
"Is that a request?"
"She'll know I talked to you."
"She'll know I told you nothing."
"So she can read minds. Now you have told me something."
"And since she's a Gypsy, you probably think she can tell fortunes. Read palms - "
"Turn herself into a raven. No, that's not a Gypsy trick. It's a vampire trick."
"You think I care? You think that bothers me?"
"I think it should. I'm sure you didn't know the first time you invited her in. Maybe after that, you were afraid to say no."
"Of course. I was afraid to miss out on all that ecstasy," Renee jokes, taking a long drag on her cigarette. Gretchen grabs her left forearm and squeezes, looking very serious.
"Remember Renee, I also know where you live. Finding Yetta will save dozens of lives. You tip her off, I hold you responsible for their deaths. What's one dead woman when a whole city is at risk?" Renee struggles to break free. Gretchen lets her go. The spooked woman hurries away. Of course Gretchen has no intention of killing this woman. But the important thing was to make Renee think otherwise. Gretch walks away and takes out her phone. "Rupert."
"Gretchen! How's Paris?"
"Lovely. I've got an idea. How about making me bait?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"I think I'm her type."
"And what type is that? Gorgeous? Brilliant? Worldly?"
"Mature. Heck, that could also describe you."
"Thank you," he replies bashfully. "Very funny joke, offering yourself to the vampire."
"I'm not joking. I think I can seduce her." Giles nearly chokes on the tea he is sipping. Andrew rushes in. Rupert waves him away.
"I'm all right."
"Don't worry. We'd let the girls take her out before she got to third base."
"Third? Is that - thank God I know nothing of baseball."
"Rupert, we know this girl's hard to catch. But she's a seductress, and they never expect you to turn the tables on them."
"That would put you in tremendous danger."
"I'm always in tremendous danger. Are you jealous? Don't be jealous. This is strictly tactical. No ulterior motives. I went through that phase in college. Just kidding. They didn't have lesbian chic when I was in college."
"Er, um, I know what this is. You're trying to make me flustered. Bravo, Gretch. Well done."
"The flusterage is completely ancillary. She's expecting a Slayer or a male Watcher. She'll never suspect me." Like her brother, Gretchen knows the value of anonymity.
"Or she will, and you'll never stand a chance."
"Okay," Gretchen pouts. "We'll do it your boring old way. Say, how about a lesbian Slayer? I could call Camille and have her up here by morning."
"We are not — Gretchen, while I applaud your originality, we are not in the business of seducing vampires, no matter how dangerous they may be! Oh, hello Buffy," Giles says as he looks to his door, which is open.
"Sorry, Rupert. You spend three nights canvassing lesbian bars, you get a little focused on the libidinal. Tonight, we hit the fleshpots."
"Nicole and Sherri must be delighted," he jokes drolly.
"I told you, this is a job for Kennedy and Camille." They hang up. Buffy continues to stare at him.
"Gretchen," he explains. "She had some rather alarming ideas on ensnaring troublesome vampires."
"Don't ask. I get it," she says as she slowly backs out and walks away. With Gretchen, Buffy knows it's best not to delve too deeply. Meanwhile, 7,000 miles away, Gretchen's former brother was putting the moves on his Slayer.
"Dev, stop."
"You don't mean that," he replies, kissing her neck and sliding his right hand below her belly button.
"Yes," she answers, kissing him. "No," she vacillates, kissing him again. "Oh God," she exclaims before kissing him a third time. Finally, she throws him off the couch and over top of the coffee table. He rolls into the television. "I'm sorry."
"You're scared."
"Of something we've done a thousand times before? Okay, maybe not a thousand."
"But not of late."
"Do you want to kill people?"
"Right now?"
"Ever."
"If we're out, and someone annoys me, there's the urge to react. People feel that way too."
"People don't suck other people's blood."
"I don't drain everyone I kill."
"See! Present tense."
"I haven't killed a single person since the night we met. Haven't used my teeth once. All of a sudden, that's not enough for you."
"Could you get your soul back?"
"What?"
"It's been done."
"I don't need a soul to be good. I've proven that."
"Short term."
"Five months!"
"If we're gonna do this long-term, I need a bigger commitment."
"You need me wracked with guilt in order to love me?"
"I already love you. Dammit, Dev. You know that."
"You sure haven't been acting that way lately."
"I've laid it on the line for you. Hell, I'm the most hated Slayer in the whole damn Community. I made my choice. I chose you. Over everyone. I need you to choose me."
"You need insurance."
"What?"
"You can't leave me, cause no one else will welcome you. That's what you said."
"Pretty much."
"Well, I'm persona non grata in the vampire community, on account of killing so many of them. But that's not enough for you."
"If you've really given up your old life, you'd do this. That way, there's no going back."
"Like I said, insurance."
"No. Love." He stares her down. Then his face softens, and he relents.
"I might not be as much fun with all that guilt." She smiles, hugs and kisses him.
"You're gonna do it?"
"Hey, if it'll make you sleep with me," he casually jokes, walking out the door. Debbie's not sure what to think of his remark. Surely that wasn't his only reason. Devlin starts up his car and lights a cigarette. Debbie rushes out.
"Where are you going?"
"Where do you think? To get a soul. Just kidding. Gonna go do a little research."
"Be careful."
"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere I'll need to be careful." She kisses him, and he drives off, smoking his cigarette and exhaling up into the night air. Half a world away, Gretchen removes a cigarette from her lips.
"Same plan."
"This place is a lot bigger than the others," Nicole points out.
"Still only a couple ways out. You take the back. Sherri, the front. Don't go anywhere without my signal." The three women enter the Crazy Horse. Gretchen takes a long drag and looks around at all the naked women.
"Camille will be jealous," Sherry jokes to Nicole. They both giggle to hide their discomfort. Gretchen glances back at them, a cigarette dangling from her lips. She looks very serious. The girls get down to business. Nicole hurries over to the back exit. Once everyone's in place, Gretchen walks around. Two dark-haired women, hiding in a semi-circular booth in a dark corner, point out the new arrival. Gretchen sticks out like a sore thumb. But so would Jeta, given her ability to attract a crowd. She spots the entrance to the dressing rooms and walks over, flicking her half-smoked cigarette into an ashtray ten feet away. A burly man stands guard in front of a curtain. Gretchen dispatches him with a swift left chop, jabbing her fingertips into his trachea. As he gasps, she walks by, making her way past several scantily clad women, her hands in her jacket pockets. Thirty feet in, there's a topless dancer, the club's star, going at it with a tall, dark woman who's wearing yellow leather pants and a light blue silk shirt. The dancer's back is up against a mirror, so she can't notice Jeta's lack of a reflection.
"Is this going to be part of the floor show," Gretchen asks in German. Jeta takes her mouth and hands off the dancer and goes bumpy as she spins around. Her shirt's unbuttoned. Gretchen takes her right hand out of her pocket and hurls a jar of holy water at Jeta's bare chest, burning it very badly. She screams as the stench of burnt flesh wafts over the dressing room. Jeta grabs Gretchen's neck with her right hand and leans in to bite the right side of her neck. Gretchen takes her left hand out of her pocket and presses a crucifix against Jeta's crotch. The vampire shrieks and knocks Gretchen down with a swift left hook. When the dancer sees what happened to her girlfriend, and what her girlfriend is, she screams. Jeta grabs the woman by the neck and uses her as a human shield. Between her and the curtain are a half-dozen frightened strippers, clinging to the walls, a dazed bouncer, and two teenage girls. Jeta bares her fangs.
"Move, and she dies," the vampire vows in French. The hostage, clad in high heels and a g-string, is sobbing in terror, begging for her life under her breath.
"You know we can't let you walk out of here," Nicole responds. Gretchen stands up behind Jeta, reaches underneath the back of her coat and pulls out a crossbow. Jeta whispers her sincerest apologies in her lover's/hostage's ear and hurls the woman at Sherri. Immediately after letting go, she does a backwards hand spring and kicks Gretchen in the chest, knocking her into the rear exit. Her crossbow discharges, sending an arrow into the ceiling before falling to the ground. Nicole races after Jeta and tackles her before she can escape, getting on top of the vampire and raising her stake. Jeta effortlessly pushes the Slayer off of her body and stands up. Sherri rushes forwards and tries a right kick. Jets ducks it and puts the Slayer on her back with a left roundhouse kick before hitting Nicole in the face with a right hook kick and a left cross. Two female vampires with dark hair and bright red lips knock down the topless dancer and the bouncer as they rush to Jeta's aid and attack the Slayers. "About time, you lazy cunts," Jeta growls in German. Gretchen tries to stake Jeta from behind, but the vampire reaches back, grabbing the stake with her left hand and Gretchen's hair with her right. She leans in to bite the right side of the Watcher's neck, but Gretchen grabs the red, molted skin on Jeta's chest with her left hand and rips it off. Jeta screams in pain and rushes out the door. Gretchen catches her breath and looks at the disgusting, bloody flesh in her hand.
"She's getting away," Gretchen yells. Nicole stakes her vampire, but Sherri's escapes and runs after Jeta, with Sherri and Nicole close behind. "For the record, she started it," Gretchen quips to her shocked audience before grabbing her crossbow and leaving. An older woman walks in and tells the sobbing, traumatized dancer who was nearly sacrificed by her demon lover that she was due onstage in five minutes. Outside, the Slayers approach the two vampires.
"You can't touch me," Jeta vows to Nicole, who swings for the vampire's face and hits only air. "Fool," Nicole hears from behind as a hand grips her throat tightly. Jeta had played a nifty trick on her. Sherri, who's fighting the other vampire, turns around and sees her pal in peril. "One step, I snap her neck," Jeta tells Sherri as Nicole's feet dangle a few inches off the ground and her face turns purple.
"You kill Nikki, I kill you."
"Nein," Jeta replies with a smile. Her vampire friend grabs Sherri from behind. Sherri hits the woman's nose with the back of her head before she could get bit. Meanwhile, Gretchen's reloaded her crossbow and fires at Jeta's back from thirty feet away. Jeta spins round, and Nicole takes the arrow in her left lung.
"Fuck," Gretchen screams in English. Jeta drops the Slayer like a toy.
"Pity we couldn't be friends, bitch," Jeta says to Gretchen as they stare each other down from a distance. "You're just my type." Sherri knocks down her vampire and tries to stake Jeta in the back, but she turns into a raven and flies away. The remaining vampire makes a run for it, but Sherri catches her.
"Sherri, wait," Gretchen screams in French as she runs over. "She abandoned you," Gretch tells the vampire in German. "Yetta left you to die. But I'll give you another chance. Tell me where she's staying, and you get a chance to live."
"Life without Yetta is no life."
"Have it your way," Gretchen replies as she turns around and walks back to Denise. Sherri takes about fifteen seconds to finish the fight and dust the vampire.
"Shit! Shit! I'm sorry," Gretchen tells Denise in French.
"For saving my life?"
"No. For almost ending it."
"You're sorry you failed," Denise jokes as she stands up.
"I'll take you to the hospital."
"For this?" Sherri runs over.
"Silly me, assuming you're only flesh and blood," Gretchen jokes darkly, commenting on a Slayer's resilience and fragility at the same time. Her brother would appreciate the sentiment.
"The Crazy Horse," Giles asks while talking to Gretchen on the phone. She's back at Denise's and Sherri's apartment. Denise is bandaged up and watching soccer on the television with Sherri. Denise jokes how she could have scored on a header after the ball goes several feet above the striker's head and sails across the goal box. Every time the Slayers pass a game in the park, they are tempted to use their powers and show off.
"Have you been," Gretchen replies.
"Many, many years — decades, ago."
"The girls killed her two friends."
"Female friends?"
"Of course. That's a question I'd expect Xander to ask."
"I didn't mean it like that."
"Even though she got away, I left her with a few injuries that should keep her from making any new female friends for a while."
"She attacked you," Giles asks with concern.
"Not without justification," Gretchen jokes. "Trust me, she got the worst of it."
"You're very lucky."
"I like to think of myself as clever and resourceful. Can you put Dawn on?"
"Why?"
"Girl stuff. I just want to see how she is."
"Very well." Dawn gets on, confusing Buffy as well. Giles explains to Buffy what Gretchen told him, while Gretchen repeats the whole story for a curious Dawn, including the more obscene parts she didn't bother to tell Rupert. Dawn loves the attention. Buffy and Rupert still prefer to keep her out of the loop and shield her from the gory reality of slaying. Gretchen knows what it's like to be a forgotten younger sister.
So, coincidentally, does Claire. But she has Spike to give her attention and make her feel special. "Wusn't expecting you, luv." She smiles when he says "luv."
"That's why it's called a surprise." She kisses Spike and puts a hand under his shirt.
"Wait."
"What?" He stands up and walks into his kitchen.
"Is this all I am to you?"
"Yeah," she replies sarcastically. "Just a hot, heroic, funny, incredible guy I can't stop thinking about when he's not around, and can't stop touching when he is."
"That's the bloody problem."
"I'm a problem? The fact that I want you is a problem?"
"Can't we go out sometime? Get something to eat?"
"You drink blood."
"See a movie. I dunno, a play. Or just talk. All we ever do is shag. You come over here, have me, and go on your merry way."
"And you don't enjoy it? Cause if you don't, then the Oscar goes to - "
"Of course I enjoy you, Claire. That's not the problem."
"You think I'm using you," she finally realizes. "That you're like my fuck buddy or something. You're not. You're my boyfriend. And I love spending time with you — whether we're naked or not." She smiles bashfully. "It's just, you take so long, there's not as much time for talking. Compared to my other boyfriends." Spike appreciates the compliment. "Tell you what: Saturday night, we go out, do something fun, try to stay out of each other's pants for a few hours."
"It's a date."
"Great!" She kisses Spike and pulls off his black t-shirt, pushing him back into the oven. "Tonight, while I was waiting for my pictures to develop, I kept thinking about - " She whispers something in his ear. He looks worried. "You don't wanna?"
"No. No. I, I, I've never done that with a normal woman before."
"I'm hardly normal. Hell, I'm fucking a vampire. Course, I wasn't exactly normal before that."
"I know. The severed foot in the locker says it all." She laughs at the memory. "I just worry about damaging your spine."
"I'm a big girl." She grabs Spike's belt and leads him towards the bedroom.
"I know," Spike replies, thrusting her up against the brick wall and kissing her. She puts her legs around his waist and starts to moan.
"I didn't know you liked redheads," Devlin says. A very surprised Spike turns around, Claire still wrapped around him. "Oh, don't mind me. Please, continue." Claire puts her feet back on the ground and looks at the uninvited guest, who's about her age.
"Devlin. What the bloody hell - ?"
"Oh don't give me that, dad."
"Dad," Claire exclaims.
"I wouldn't be here, interrupting your nocturnal commissions, if it wasn't important."
"Claire, I need to go outside for a minute."
"0h-okay." Spike looks around for his shirt. Devlin tosses it to him.
"Here. It was in the kitchen. Were you two doing that thing where you turn on the burners and put your hands, and then your chest, over - never mind. I'm sure you've only done that with mom. I HOPE you've only - " Spike grabs Devlin and drags him into the hall, then punches him in the stomach.
"You couldn't call?"
"It's kind of something I have to say in person."
"Did something happen to Debbie?"
"By the way, Claire does look a lot like Willow. Very interesting." Spike throttles Dev with his right hand.
"Get to the bloody point, boy!"
"Right. So you can get back to your - " Devlin chuckles. Spike hits him again in your stomach. "Ow! How to you expect me to speak if you keep knocking the wind out of me."
"You don't breathe."
"I do when I talk." He takes a long pause. "I want to get my soul back. Since you're the one who took it, I thought maybe you'd know where I should look."
"Very funny."
"I'm serious, dad. Debbie's been really pushing for it. And you know I'll do anything to keep a lady happy.
"You're serious?"
"Very. So what's the frequency? Where do I go? What do I do?"
"It's not that simple."
"Where do I start?"
"You don't, you don't — it's dangerous."
"Since when did that hold me back?"
"And even if you survive, even if you get your wish, you'll hate yourself. You won't be able to live in your own skin."
"So you'd rather I go back to killing people?" Spike takes a while to respond.
"I'm glad you're thinking about this, Dev. Even if it's for the wrong reasons."
"The love of a Slayer is a wrong reason? Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."
"I thought she already loved you."
"She does. But lately she's been liking me less. Largely because she's realized I'm an unrepentant mass murderer. That tends to be a turn-off with most girls. Most, but not all. You remember - " Spike shoves Devlin's back into the wall.
"Is this for real?"
"Yeah. Fuck yeah. I've gotten to the point where I don't want to live without Deb, and if this is what it takes to keep her."
"I don't know if the guy would help you."
"What guy?"
"In Africa. He's not really a guy. There's more than one way to do this."
"Yes, and I'm not doing it Angel's way." Spike chuckles. "Kind of defeats the purpose."
"I can ask Fred to do some research. Find the way that would work best for you. Are you serious about this?"
"Yes! For the third time, yes."
"How soon? Are you running off tonight?"
"No. That's something you'd do. I can take my time, weigh my options. Given that vampires seldom seek their souls, I'm sure there's a bunch of ways we've never heard of. Maybe I could pay a shaman, save myself the trouble of a quest."
"This isn't like a bloody nose job. You can't just - "
"No, YOU can't just. But maybe I can. We've always approached the same problems in completely opposite ways."
"You have to want it more than anything."
"I'm the one who's read Tolkein, so don't give me a recitation. Beside, this is the real world, not some allegorical fantasy."
"You don't know wut you're getting into."
"You'd rather I be evil?"
"I'd rather you keep doing what you're doing, which seems to be going pretty well."
"Yeah, but to keep doing who I've been doing, I have to take it to the next level."
"It can't just be about that."
"Why not? A guy can't make the world a better place for the wrong reasons? What about the Invisible Hand, virtuous self interest? Look, there has to be someone, some good guy with the power to make this happen, who realizes it will help people. Everyone wins. It's irrational NOT to give me what I want."
"The world doesn't work like that."
"It can. If you try."
"Son, I'm glad you're, I'm glad you're thinking about this. And son, I'm proud of you. Just so you know. I'm proud of what you've been doing down there, helping people." Devlin smiles. His father rarely says he's proud of him, which is why Spike employed this tactic. "I'll get back to you tomorrow about this."
"Cool. Like I said, I'm not in a hurry." Spike puts his right hand to Devlin's left cheek.
"You know, Fred's been saying some nice stuff about you."
"Really!"
"Your tactics."
"She read my book?"
"Why you so surprised? She knows you're a smart kid with good ideas. We all do."
"Thanks. Thanks dad. It means a lot for you to - "
"Oh, bloody hell. Get out of here before we have to hug." Devlin runs along. Spike reenters his apartment. Claire, who's sitting on the bed, looks up.
"What did he mean by dad?" The very idea of Spike in a paternal role seemed strange to her.
"I sired him. Back in the seventies."
"So, when he said mom, me meant Drusilla?"
"Yeah."
"What's your um, what's your, why was he here?"
"Devlin's kind of been following in my footsteps. In a bad way. But, lately, in a good way. He's given up killing. He fights vampires. He's got a girlfriend."
"Is she a Vampire Slayer?"
"Yes." Claire looks surprised.
"I was joking. There's a Slayer around here?"
"In Orange County. Now, to keep her happy, he wants to get his soul back."
"Like you did?"
"Something like that."
"Wow. Y-y-you've become a role model." She laughs. "You've like turned his life around."
"By turning him into a vampire."
"Oh. Right. I wasn't thinking about it like that. But now that bad thing's been changed into something good."
"Doesn't make it right."
"No. But it makes it better than before. You should be proud of yourself."
"Don't say that."
"Fine. Continue with your eternal self-loathing."
"You have no idea what it's like to do so many bloody awful things and feel - "
"Which is why you do good things, now. Why you devote yourself to making people happy." She kisses him. "People like me."
"You make it sound like a public service."
"More of a private service, in this case." She takes off her shirt. "Unless you got something else you'd rather be doing."
"Nope. Just a bloke with too much time on his hands." Claire leaps on top of Spike.
"Hopefully, for the next few hours, you'll have more than just time on your hands."
Devlin hobbles into Debbie's house, clutching his chest. "Oh! The pain. The pain!"
"What's wrong?"
"It burns!"
"Your soul?"
"No." He undoes the top few buttons on his shirt to show that he is wearing a crucifix around his neck.
"That's not funny, Dev. Actually, it's pretty sick." He takes the cross off, revealing a deep red gouge on his chest.
"Aversion therapy. Building up my immunity, so to speak. That, or I've always been told I substitute pain for sex." Debbie puts her fingers to the wound, which is so hot she nearly burns them.
"You really hurt yourself."
"And I liked it. Which means a soul would be a perfect fit." Debbie gets excited.
"You're gonna do it?"
"Spike's having his workplace chums do a little research."
"You're serious about this?"
"Why does everyone keep asking me that?" Debbie embraces Devlin. She can feel the warmth from his self-inflicted wound.
"This pain fetish thing is freaking me out."
"I like to feel."
"There's other things to feel than pain."
"Not when I'm away from you."
"That's cheesy."
"Yet true. There's nothing out there for me. Not without you." The tips of their noses touch, and Debbie kisses him softly.
"I'm not going anywhere."
"Neither am I." They kiss again. Devlin's right. He's never left a woman. They always leave him. Back in 1979, he tracks down fickle Sheena in the sewer tunnels. "Lookin' good."
"Thanks. Are you okay?"
"Sure. I know we're not exclusive. That thing with Spike, don't worry about it."
"Great. Cause I do like you, Dev."
"I like you too, Sheena." He pulls his left hand out of his pocket and sticks a needle in her neck.
"What the fuck!"
"Nemo me impune lacessit. No one harms me without retribution." She falls to the ground and her eyes close. Devlin takes out the shard of glass he used to cut himself when they were at the Chelsea Hotel. When she wakes up, Devlin's staring down at her. "You're still beautiful. Not many people can say that afterwards."