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This extensive write-up from the efforts of Blair Rhodes!

Cass sits in her largely bare room at her grandmother's palatial Exeter bungalow. The setting sun is dipping below the ranks of trees, the dying rose light fading against the pale, bare bedroom walls. She picks up her phone and looks out of the sash window at the town below. Houselights flicker into awareness, fireflies in the dusk. Cass thumbs a number, turns her back on the panorama and goes to sit on her bed. She listens as the phone dials and a young man's recorded voice answers: "Hey, this is Bene. Yeah. You know what to do." There's a beep.

"Hi. I guess you're busy with work, which is why I haven't heard from you." Cass' voice is quiet. A smile plays over her lips. "Mom calls all the time...!" She sits back on the bed. "There's nothing for me to do here... but everyone's busy all the time...! Gran's out at some church social thing... she left me a TV dinner the other day...! Candy's running heaps. I went with her once, but I couldn't keep up with her-" Her mind flashes back to running through the park with Candy heading for the woods, before the Slayer unconsciously went into overdrive and disappeared into the distance, ponytail flapping madly in her own slipstream. "Once she was out of sight, I just walked home." She sighs. "Cynth's obsessed with her band. I don't think they'll ever be accused of having the 'New York' sound." Cass shifts on the bed as she remembers the band practice she looked in on, and Zak's impromptu pep talk.

"C'mon, guys, this isn't Antony and the Johnsons," Zak had snorted. "That stuff is so lame!"

Lollie had pointed at a lyric sheet. "How d'you pronounce this word?"

Back on her bed, talking to a machine, Cass struggles to put everything in place. "Lollie was my enemy, now she's Black Orchid's lead singer. Max and I almost dated...! ... I miss you heaps. I wish I was with you, because you wouldn't want to be here!" Her voice becomes quiet. "Love you..." Cass hangs up and lies back on the bed.

Her eyes trace patterns in the ceiling. The only sound in the room is her steady breathing. The early evening wind whispers through the trees and a car alarm sounds briefly in the distance, the suburban equivalent of a lone wolf's howl.

OPENING CREDITS

Exeter High bustles like a mass transit station. Brightly-coloured worker drones buzz backwards and forwards, providing a multicoloured backdrop for Candy, Cynth and Cass seated at the end of a cafeteria table. Candy nurses a Texas-sized strawberry milkshake (not strawberry-flavoured). Cass is bored yet resplendent in a cheong-sam and three-quarter length trousers. Cynth carefully affects a disaffected air, sporting a black "Bad Bass" T-shirt emblazoned with a surly tattooed fish. Candy slouches in her generic plastic seat, wearing jeans and a grey-and-pink striped top.

Ebony adrift in a sea of ivory, Clarice walks past. "That is such a nice top!" she compliments Cass. "Would you call it charcoal..?"

"It's more a 'storm'," Cass ventures. "It's actually Italian, but you can see it has heavy Chinese influences."

Clarice looks genuinely interested, when a familiar voice trills her name. She smiles in farewell, teeth unsurprisingly pearly white, and joins Stephie. The two social queens confer with some vacant male clotheshorses. The conversation quickly turns back to themselves.

"I'm regretting swapping into French from Home Ec," Cass groans. "It's much harder!"

"Brian said I couldn't do 'cooking'!" Candy rolls her eyes.

"Well, your Mom's such a great cook you can eat all the cookies you want, any time you want" Cass points out. "And she can offer them to me all she wants..."

Candy slurps at her shake. "At least Brian knows your name now."

"I wouldn't bet on it. It's been a month since I've seen him," Cass replies, recalling the tense incursion into the Langborn Estate. "Are you going ahead with band practice?" she asks Cynth.

Cynth gives up trying to guess what's in her sandwich. "Yep, just in the music room. No big deal."

Cass sighs at the injustice of the world. "Why did YOUR mentors die?" There's an uncomfortable pause while Candy and Cynth study the tabletop and ceiling. "Ms Preston's SO enthusiastic!" Cass continues; she runs a hand through her hair.

Cynth shrugs. "Maybe she's possessed by an enthusiasm demon."

"I see Bret's over you," Cass comes out of left field.

"Yeah, I guess." Candy leans back in her seat.

It's Cass' turn to shrug. "He feels comfortable enough now to come up and talk to me in class. Dick," she adds under her breath.

"I've got a guy," Candy suddenly announces, apropos of nothing.

Cynth and Cass practically fall over. "What?! Here?!"

"Cass and I can't have dates," Cynth complains.

"Hey!" Cass scowls.

"Oh, right, you've got a boyfriend," Cynth backpedals. Her voice drops. "I forgot."

Cass becomes pensive. "Alistair MIGHT have asked me out once... but he was eating a hamburger at the time, and then someone threw a football at him."

"Hey, let's go to the CD store," Candy suggests brightly. The others agree.

Cass looks around. "Where's Zak?"

In Exeter township, Zak stands at the counter of the CD store. The store itself could have easily been used as the "Championship Vinyl" set but for the fact that it contains no vinyl. Rappin' with the dude behind the counter, Zak embodies disaffected youth in Dubya's Second Reign in his black stovepipes and 'Witness Protection Program' T-shirt. He seems uncharacteristically animated, and turns to the three young women as the enter the store.

"Hey, this guy's gonna get us a gig!" he announces, all smiles and sunshine. "Let's go practice!

Cynth pouts, in a manner she hoped was adopted by Queen Victoria. "We've already HAD practice today. Remember? In the music room?"

Cynth's minor revelation puts a damper on Zak's upbeat mood. They're not sure if he's genuinely forgot, or just playing with them. "Anyway, I don't want practice to be during school hours," he remarks. "The teacher's'll ask why I'm not there. Let's go!"

Cynth is not impressed at Zak's flakish behaviour. Though she doesn't say anything aloud, her tense body language speaks volumes.

Apparently oblivious to Cynth's bad vibes, Zak continues. "The gig's at the Trinity. We'll be opening for somebody, Flavour Of The Month, I think. I don't think we'll be paid."

Cynth takes a deep breath. "Well, we need the exposure, and Lollie's 'fan' will be there." She seems resigned to the event, and she and Zak leave the store.

For her part, Candy idly browses the new releases section whilst looking out for someone. The object of her attention proves to be instore: he's cool (of course), wears worn black, and the cause celebre's plastic wristband. His manner is cheerful as he discusses important matter of the day with another random dude. Candy peeks over a magazine, using her Slayer senses to track an entirely new type of prey. Her stalking of the slower beasts at the urban waterhole is interrupted by a Gwen Stefani polytone chirping from her pocket.

"Hello?" she answers.

In his study, Brian wrestles with armfulls of civic blueprints. "Ah, Candy." he manages to pin down the edges of the map with some handy books. "Are you available for some... subterranean cross-training?"

Candy doesn't need her Slayer sense to tell her this errand's going to be a pain. Inwardly, she groans. "Okay, I guess," she mumbles, watching her love-life walking away.

Brian scratches intricate notes on the blue maps. "That's excellent. Meet me in Factory Road."

Muttering at the randomness of her star-crossed life, Candy leaves the store.

Cass looks around and finds herself alone, almost left of the back-burner as those around her march forwards with their lives. Because now seems as good a time as any, she decides to offset any more Meryll-cookie dumping and stock up at the health food store. She's just approaching the store when she bumps into Ms Preston. They chat politely, the teacher taking more of an interest in the conversation than would appear normal. "You've not been coming to the after-school gatherings," the teacher chides gently, trying her best to look motherly over her brown paper bags. "The invite still stands."

Cass shrugs, all non-committal Gen Y. "I've been establishing a network of friends."

Ms Preston seems genuinely surprised. "Oh! I thought you all did that online these days?" Cass shakes her head 'nope'; apparently, the kids are alright off-line.

"Is Bret a part of your after-school gatherings?" Cass asks.

"No," Ms Preston replies. Cass sees a light go off in the teacher's eyes. "Er, do you have any film training?"

"Yes," Cass nods. "I've mainly done commercials. And I do have some film school training."

Ms Preston's enthusiasm bubbles up. "I'm currently working on a project. Would you like to be a part of it? It's a short film," she explains.

Cass seems interested, in a roundabout sort of way. The student notes she'll need a consent form, as she's still under eighteen. Ms Preston appears impressed at Cass' attention to detail, but doesn't let the promise of paperwork interrupt her flow. "Can you come over to my house tonight for a meeting?" Cass thinks it over for a moment, then agrees, either too cool to care or genuinely not emotionally invested in the project from the outset. Ms Preston gives Cass her address, then departs in a cloud of effervescent enthusiasm. Cass watches her leave, inscrutable as ever.

On Factory Road, Exeter's answer to the Hellmouth, Candy and Brian discuss tactics for the upcoming incursion.

"Right, now, you will remember from your little tete a tete with Goomer before his stake-induced demise that he mentioned others of his kind were congregating in the sewers, and that this co-incided with a 'treasure hunt'." He hands the increasingly bewildered Candy a body harness straight off the 'Mission Impossible' set. She nervously regards a frame-contraption set up over a nearby open sewer grate. She finds herself being fitted with a headpiece, just adding to the surrealism.

"Sorry, the budget doesn't quite stretch to cameras on the headset," Brian apologises as he fusses. He grins. "After all, this is real life, not 'Alias'...!"

Candy just stares at her step-father, looking like a 'Radio Shack' Q. "That show ended, like, years ago...!" She struggles with the straps and buckles and clips as the wwebbing thing seems to grapplwe with her. "My phone doesn't have a camera, you say we can't afford an iPod, and then you turn up with THIS...?!" she mutters bitterly.

Brian appears not to hear, rummaging in his large kit bag. "Oh, I also have some of that stuff that you smear under your nose and it deadens the smell. Do you want-?"

"Yes!" Candy snatches the pottle with such force Brian nearly loses a finger. She liberally applies a mint-scented dollop as Brian explains the plan. "Now, I've marked the most likely nesting points on these plans. I'd like you to investigate them, strictly reconnaissance. It should be easy to follow, I've made extensive notations-" he holds up a sail's worth of blueprint - the tiny notations in Brian's 'doctor's handwriting' make Candy's eyes tear up. "... and I'll be guiding you on the radio. Right. Shall we begin?"

Candy reluctantly climbs into the harness and prepares to be lowered into the uninviting, foul-smelling darkness below. "I gave up the music store for this?!" she mutters.

In the music room at Exeter High, Black Orchid stand poised ready to give My Chemical Romance a run for their money, but something's missing. Zak re-enters the room. He's suspiciously pale, and conspicuously wipes his mouth. "Right!" He picks up his guitar, slinging the strap over his head like a bandolier. "Let's go!"

Cynth counts them in, and suddenly the room is alive with the sound of music. Angst-driven chords rise, fall and break over images of Candy setting down in the sewers, taking one look at the Bayeux Tapestry of a map and casting it aside in disgust. The Slayer squares her shoulders and wades determinedly through the sewers, alert for bogies and the correct turn-off. The young Slayer leaps as something brushes her leg; she recovers and moves on, trying not to look at whatever floats past her. She comes to a junction; all these slime-heavy brick edifices look alike to her.

"There's a tunnel opening on the left," she reports over the radio. "Is that right?"

Above ground, Brian plots what he believes to be Candy's course on a large blueprint. "No, right is right," he pedantically replies.

"Yes, but am I still going the right way?" she asks. The thick mint smell of the gel tickles her nose.

Brian makes a few calculations. "You mean, 'am I going in the correct direction'?" he corrects.

"YES!" snaps an exasperated Slayer, and things degenerate from there. As Black Orchid's killer track builds to a crescendo, Brian and Candy's lines of communication break down into simultaneous argument, each ranting over the other.

Cass arrives at Ms Preston's house, a sprawling nondescript bungalow in the suburbs. She rings the doorbell. Ms Preston answers in a flurry of necklaces and sail-like sweater. The sounds of chatter flutter out to Cass from inside the house. She is invited inside. A number of couches of different styles have been pulled into a yonic ring to form seating for a parliament of unbridled creativity. Cass doesn't recognise anyone, apart from Clarice. The young African-American wastes no time in latching on to Cass. Ms Preston plays the bubbling host, offering liquid refreshment to her comrades in arts. Clarice gladly accepts a glass of red wine.

"So, you're involved, too," Cass observes.

"My mother said I have talent," Clarice smiles, teeth pearls against chocolate skin.

"Yeah, a lot of mothers say that," Cass remarks off-handedly, her coldness normally able to kill an unprepared man at ten paces. There's something about Clarice's clinging, ingratiating optimism that grates at Cass's sensibilities, though she tries not to let anything show, staring off into space.

Clarice continues to gush, impervious to Cass' indifference. "Ms Preston just raves about you in drama classes. I hear you got accepted for Emity!"

Cass regards her new colleague with measured disdain. "Do you know where that is?" Clarice looks confused; the doorbell rings before she can answer.

"That'll be the out-of-towners!" Ms Preston calls from the kitchen. "Cass, can you get that?" Eager to be parted from Clarice for even the briefest of moments, Cass jumps from her chair and goes to the door. She open it to reveal two people standing there. Cass' expression changes from bored indifference to genuine shock.

"Benedict!" she gasps.

Clarice perks up considerably, eyes flashing like a jungle cat. "He's hot!"

ACT TWO

Cass can't believe who's standing before her at Ms Preston's house. It's a tall, athletically built young man of Italian extraction. His handsome features are nestled in a complexion that's dark without being swarthy. His marketable face breaks into a winning and perfect smile as he sees Cass' shocked reaction. The Adonis-like perfection is slightly undercut by him being laden down with several items of luggage. The shorter, older woman with him pushes past he and Cass with an overconfident air, boot heels clacking on the wooden floor. She says hello to Cass and Clarice on the way past, heading towards the kitchen to greet Ms Preston.

Cass overcomes her shock and invites Bene in. He kisses her and she snuggles up to her man, luxuriating in his body heat and fashionable cologne. Evelyn flounces back from the kitchen, all beret and black aviators and heart-shaped face. The past-thirtysomething gushes about the Sundance-bound short film 'Inner-Outer'. "It's got everything: passion, loss, pathos, humanity...!"

"Everything except a permit," Bene murmurs to Cass, as she discretely traces the outlines of his pectorals with a manicured finger.

Meanwhile, above and below Factory Road, things are continuing from where they left off - that is to say, badly. Over their intercom, Brian and Candy argue about turnoffs and following the plan and reading the notes and whatever else comes to hand, yelling over the top of each other until the entire operation threatens to resemble Operation: Desert Storm.

Back at band practice, Zak struggles to get Lollie to hit a troublesome high note. "I want to hear glass breaking!" he demands, extremely anxious for some reason. Lollie looks perplexed as she winds up to try again.

Cynth is packing away equipment. Max, faithful as always, helps with the heavy schlepping. Cynth manoeuvres through the obstacle course of equipment. "Are we ready for our first gig?"

Max strains with an ancient amp. "We're ready. Lollie was born ready."

As if on cue, Lollie's strangled squeak pierces the air and nearby eardrums.

Max shakes off the shellshock. "It's just that... I'm not a natural, like you guys."

Cynth looks up, surprised. "You only began four months ago," she points out.

The young, mop-haired bass player is downcast. "I don't think I have it inside me, here..." he mopes, emphatically tapping his chest. "Like that - other stuff-" he glances sideways at Cynth, "- I used to help out with. I'm no good."

Cynth is concerned at this sudden appearance of defeatism from her friend. "It's our very first gig! Just try it... I think we make a good band."

Max throws himself back into the physical toil. "I guess you'd know." He winds his way around music stands. "So...'stuff's' happening again."

Cynth exhales slowly, feeling the burden pressing down on her like always. "Yeah. It WAS quiet..." She shuffles sheet music. "We're falling back into it, but not Zak." She glances up a the suddenly emphatic guitarist, oblivious to all else except squuezing the best from their lead singer. "Maybe it's because he has no friends." That thought is cut short by a higher, shriller squeak. Cynth flinches, then ducks her head close to Max. "We can't FORCE him." She looks sideways at Max, suddenly drawing him into her altruistic conspiracy. "Maybe he'll talk to you...?"

Max shakes his head. "You don't know boys, do you?" he grins ruefully. "C'mon, let's get this stuff packed."

At the 'Preston Studios' lot, Cass is discussing logistics with the (partly motley) crew. Ms Preston presides as chairwoman of the board, at the head of a table heavy with coffee, glasses of red wine and plates of kosher nibbles, dusted lightly with sheets of notes and diagrams. "So it's decided, then. We'll meet tomorrow after school to start!" The meeting breaks up in a sudden onrush of happy chattering.

Bene draws a little closer to Cass. "Want to come for a walk?" he murmurs beneath the pattering of conversations. Cass smiles and nods. Ms Preston sees the two rise from the table, and darts over to Bene. "So good of you to come," she purrs. Momentarily oblivious to Cass' presence, she hugs the young man, and kisses him on the cheek. Cass is taken aback by this familiarity, but plays it cool. Bene manages to extricate himself; he and Cass step outside, leaving the crazy energy behind. The Exeter night welcomes the two young lovers into its embrace like an old friend. Their fingers entwine and heir bodies are drawn together as they slowly walk along. Cass breathes in his scent, drawing energy from the warmth emanating from his young, toned body. The Elite model is the first to break the silence.

"I swear, I didn't know I was coming HERE," he admits. "I barely got the days off work... had to work hard. I've known Evelyn and Preston for years."

"How?" Cass looks up at Bene, unsure if she sees a lipstick smear from her teacher on her man's cheek in the pale light.

He shrugs; Cass admires the ripple of muscle beneath his tight shirt. "Oh, mainly industry parties, you know. You get to form certain social circles if you go to enough of them."

They walk in silence for a moment, breathing in synch, ground soft beneath their feet.

"It's weird you know my teacher," Cass says.

"Really?" Bene arches his immaculately scruffy eyebrows, seemingly unconcerned with the whole thing. He draws Cass to him with a hand on her hip. "What's there to do in this town?"

Cass exhales, a rueful smile playing over her lips. "There's only one club in town, and it's not open yet!" Bene frowns. "I remember there's this abandoned factory we're filming at. Somewhere down on this road with a bunch of other abandoned buildings...?"

Cass' mind flashes back to a fateful encounter at that building on Factory Road. "I think I know it..."

"Me and Ms Preston are the main characters in this film," Bene continues. He glances down at his young paramour. "I can put in a word for you, if you want. Y'know, get you a part."

Cass shakes her head. "No, I'm good." She looks up at her man. "So, do you have your own hotel room?"

"No," Bene replies.

She smirks slightly as she looks up at him, eyes locking with his. "Do you WANT your own hotel room...?"

Bene grins wolfishly, making Cass' heart flutter. The night wind rustles through the trees as the two lovers go off to really, really catch up.

Exeter High stands tall and proud in the sunshine of a brand new day, Old World sensibilities in a convenient New World location. Candy is grumpy however, slouched over a table, hand on her forehead. She idly blows strands of hair away from her face, not looking at Zak seated next to her.

"What, you had to spend the whole night in the sewer?" he asks.

Candy screws up her eyes at the memory. "After the first hour..." she trails off, sadly shaking her head. "I just. Wanted. To DIE." Heavy is the head that wears the Slayer crown of thorns.

"Yeah, but..." Zak continues. "Brian gave you a map, didn't he?"

Candy snorts. "Er, yeah, it was SO covered with his notes...!"

Zak sighs. "We HAVE to stop him watching '24'." He shifts in his seat, his expression becoming serious, voice dropping. "Things flared up, then it went quiet, right?"

Candy: "Yeah..." awash with nostalgia for a childhood she'll never know. Her melancholy is interrupted by the arrival of Cass wearing... the same clothes as yesterday! She's smiling like the cat that got the cream and inherited the dairy that produced it, radiating an unmistakeable glow. The three chat nonchalantly.

Zak twitches suddenly. "Uhm, what class is this?"

Candy looks around. "Er, lunch...? Yeah, I got to 'visit' the sewers. I had all this equipment, which was new -" she rounds on Cass with Slayer speed. "Unlike your clothes!"

Cass shrugs, Zen-like and indifferent. "I went to Ms Preston's last night, to talk about an extracurricular Project I'm now involved in".

Candy zooms in on her prey. "So, you spent the night at Ms Preston's?!"

"Clarice was there, too," Cass recalls.

Candy's eyes bug. "She spent the night, too?!"

Cass suddenly seems to remember something. "Bene's here. You can meet him after school, if you're free. We spent the night together," she adds, unbidden.

Candy gasps. "I BETTER be free!"

The revelation of Bene's sudden arrival is interrupted by the slouching arrival of Cynth, distraught as a Second Gulf War veteran. She throws her bag on the table, drops into a chair and then crashes face-first onto her bag in despair. "I failed that last test," she moans, face down amid the punk band patches safety-pinned to her bag.

"What class was it?" Candy asks.

Cynth lifts her heavy head, her face a mask of teen anguish. "I don't KNOW!" she wails.

The background noise and light is disrupted by a sudden presence. Principal Bidwell clears his throat.

"Candy, happy lunchtime to you. May I have a word in my office?" She shrugs and nods. Bidwell sharply nods once, and goes to leave. "Zachery, good of you to join us today," he observes drolly, then departs.

With a discrete odour of brimstone, Stephie appears. "Hi, everybody," she grins, as genuine as a cable game show host. "Cass, I hear you're involved in Ms Preston's project." She frowns. "I have some strange txts from Clarice. Any ideas...?"

Cass shifts slowly in her chair, looking a little uncomfortable. "Er, she might have been drunk. She was certainly enjoying her red wine last night."

Stephie sighs in exasperation. "Typical! It's not like we've done THAT before!"

"If you want in to the Project, I can talk to Evelyn," Cynth offers.

This seems to brighten up Stephie. "Let's go!" she announces. She leaves with Cass.

Cynth eyes up an uncharacteristically beaming Zak. She goes for the obvious: "Who's your secret crush?" This breaks Zak's stride somewhat. "Huh?! I've just gotten up, I'm feeling fresh," he explains.

The young drummer purses her lips. "How about some band practice, right now?"

Zak seems less than sure. "There won't be teachers there, will there?"

"Nope," Cynth shakes her head. "Let's go."

They walk through the school halls, fellow students a sea of colour with rippling currents of conversation and shoals of dreams. Cynth decides now's a good as time as any to broach the subject. "Uh, Max might be leaving the band. He said he'll stay until the gig." She sighs, and ducks through an expensive wall of preppy Aryan kids. "You can't make people do what you want," she notes.

Zak can't bear to see her hinting any longer, and winds up to throw her a bone. "Well, maybe I'll talk to him... y'know, see how he's going?"

"Yeah!" Cynth beams.

Zak shakes his head, grinning as he holds a door open for her. "You don't know much about boys, do you? The door swings shuts impassively behind them.

The sign stencilled on the glass identifies the room as the Principal's office. Having walked into monster-ridden caves and vampire lairs, Candy has no problem just going right inside. Behind the wooden desk, a high-backed chair sits with its back to the Slayer. In the best tradition, it swings around as she enters to reveal...

... not Principal Bidwell.

"Lex!" Candy exclaims. "You're not the Principal!"

"Yes, that's right," the magnate graciously concedes. "Principal Bidwell summoned you here at my behest. You see, I've been quite generous to this school." He interlaces his manicured fingers on the desk blotter and fixes Candy in a serious gaze. "I have a job offer. As you know, I am a powerful man. Powerful men often make powerful enemies. Sometimes, as you observed yourself recently, those enemies try to strike at me through those close to me. What I am asking you is this." He takes a breath. "Will you take my son in hand?" Candy doesn't really like the sound of that. "Have you talked to him?" she asks.

Lex waves the question away. "Yes, of course." His attention comes back to the Slayer. "He respects you, you know."

Candy's not convinced about the whole thing. "He has a girlfriend," she reminds Mr Madsen.

"So?!" Lex actually seems irritated. "My son needs protecting!"

The Slayer's education preys upon her instincts. "I think I read a Shakespeare play like this... and it ends badly for me".

"This won't," Lex reassures her without actually being reassuring. "Take my card, and by all means take some time to consider why this will be a wise choice." He reaches out to Candy, and a business card appears in her hand as if by presdigitation. The gold lettering swims in the light.

"That's OK, I already have your number," says Candy.

"I think you'll find that's my most RECENT number," Lex corrects her, leaning back in the chair.

Candy absently flicks the pearl-textured card against her fingers; her eyes narrow. "Who was that woman at the Estate?"

Madsen the Elder stares at Candy for a moment before answering. "A former business employee. Don't worry about her." The mage-magnate waves his hand dismissively at her, jewelled rings glittering in the afternoon sun. "Now run along and learn about dead people who failed to change the world."

Fresh out of cooler-that-thou retorts, Candy leaves Lex to his smugness. She turns the card over in her hands, hoping that taking someone 'in hand' isn't as perverse at it sounds.

A freshened up Cass heads up to Factory Road as a passenger in Stephie's car. Clarice - surely the future Ms Black America - reclines gracefully in the back seat, checking out her reflection in her RAZR.

Stephie frowns at Cass while driving, which for her constitutes multi-tasking. "I can't understand why you're dressed like some sixties Beat poet."

Inwardly, Cass takes a deep breath. "The crew wears black," she explains patiently.

Stephie wriggles in her seat in excitement "Well, we can't hide. WE'LL be onscreen."

Cass discretely looks Stephie up and down. "Then you shouldn't be wearing stripes like that," she diagnoses.

"I have a change of clothes," Stephie bristles.

"Good," Cass. "I'm not gonna be onscreen, so it matters a lot less what I wear."

It's safe to say the rest of the ride is more or less in silence.

The factory squats amidst its fallen bothers like abandoned temple from the Industrial Age, before everything was outsourced to Bangalore. Once-proud brick vistas are now layered with rows of broken windows, like the 'X's on a cartoon character's face. From inside the once-empty factory, a woman's voice grows louder as Cass discretely picks her way forward to the marshalling point, paying careful attention to the shadows.

"What about Benedict and my student and the kissing scene?" Cass recognises Ms Preston. "D'you think it'll be a problem for her, in light of - well, you know...?"

"Yes, he's really only waiting for the right time to break up with her." Cass recognises Evelyn voice from last night; but the familiarity isn't what stops her short. She swallows, feeling suddenly ill.

"She's emotional, she'll be just devastated....!" continues the teacher.

"We'll just have to do our best, Callie," Evelyn reassures her. "The film's the thing!"

Cass stands quite still in the ruined passageway, alone with the puddles and peeling paint. She takes a few deep breaths, marvelling at how loud the dripping water sounds. She can't quite get this leaden feeling from her knotted stomach. Theh she seems to step out from underneath a grea weight, and forward into the main floor of the factory.

Betraying no hint she's heard their conversation, Cass is nice and polite to the teacher and director. She finds out her task is to hold a lighting board and goes to join the lighting crew. Nothng about her demeanour betrays her inner turmoil, though she can't quite seem to drag her gaze up from the gravel floor.

ACT THREE

In a climactic spasm of power chords, band practice ends. Zak unslings his guitar. "Hey Max, wanna walk home?" The bass player agrees, and the two teens exit into the early evening sun. "You're coming along, man," Zak compliments Max as they walk down the green streets of Exeter.

Max seems unconvinced of his prowess. "Yeah, I'm OK," he shrugs. "I dunno. I'm not as into it as you all."

The sun dips as low as Max's spirits, setting behind the rows of trees. Zak seems increasingly anxious, fidgeting compulsively and scratching his arms as the two continue into Exter proper. "Why'd you join the band when Cynth asked you to?" he asks Max.

The young man considers. "Well, I thought it might be fun."

"But you didn't play before you joined the band!" Zak points out like a self-help guru. "You've really come along. We've even got our first gig!"

Max shrugs again, scuffing his sneakers. "I'm glad I'm bass. Everyone's looking at Lollie," he muses. The two stop as they come to a familiar spot. "well, this is my street," Zak announces. Max can't help but notice he looks a little pale in the dying light. Zak convulses and the blood sings in his ears; the liquid burns his throat on the way up to splatter like a Pollock on the worn pavement. Slowly, Zak straightens up, wiping his mouth. Suddenly he looks older. His eyes are dark hollows in his face. "Don't tell Candy, OK?" he asks in a small voice. Max dumbly nods his agreement. He watches, unmoving, as Zak drags himself off like a leper towards his house.

Cynth's already riot of a room has been upped in the raucous stakes with the addition of the Slayer. Candy breathlessly explains her day to her friend as they lay on the bed flicking through teen scandal sheets. They're linked by the adolescent compulsion to communicate everything in minute detail, and by sharing a single personal stereo headpiece. "So, Lex says he wants me to take Nick 'in hand'!" The teens dissolves into predicable yet hysterical sophomoric giggling.

"He has a nice girlfriend," Cynth points out sympathetically. "How exactly do you be his unobtrusive bodyguard?"

"Yeah, it's not exactly like I can go up to him and say 'Hi Nick, how you going, here's how to punch'," Candy snorts. Cynth casts a critical eye over a superhunk photospread. "Is he gonna pay you?"

Candy experiences a minor - though mercenary - revelation. "I could buy an iPod!"

Cynth fails to notice the slightly worrying glint in Candy's eye. "Zak's acting WEIRD..." she pouts.

"Brian and Meryll just let him do whatever he WANTS," Candy complains. "If I skipped school...!"

Magazine pages flick by with a series of rustling snaps. "He doesn't even TRY," Cynt complains. "If he did, he'd get out of this town...!" She sighs and tosses the magazine away from her. Suddenly, she sits up with a jerk, almost pulling the earpiece from Candy. "Hey, we can go to Factory Road! They're shooting that film, remember?"

"OK-" the Slayer jumps to her sneakered feet, ready to leap into action. "... but we have to choose outfits for the gig first!"

Back in Factory Road, the crew's gathered round Evelyn like a motley congregation as the pint-sized director gives them a plot dump of the film (namely, a young cop investigates a disturbance which unwittingly leads to the death of an innocent person). They take a break, the noise of sudden conversation rising and falling like waves breaking on shore. Bene takes the opportunity to pull Cass aside. Unlike such a short time ago when they were alone together, the mood now is different, subtly sour. Stephie and Clarice hover nearby in that aggravating way they do.

"I think you're doing well," Cas compliments the young model-turned-actor. "This is Stephie, by the way." "Nice to meet you, Bene greets, flashing that smile that makes many an ad exec moist. "You're all friends, right?"

Cass tries to head off where this is going. "You don't have a costume change coming up?"

"Ah, nope." Bene seems unsure where that one came from. Joining the sudden enclave of people, Ms Preston appears. All smiles to Cass, she leads Bene him away for a back-and-forth. Suddenly, there's a steely look in Cass' eye, but then she bites back down on her emotions and everything appears normal again.

Clarice segues into view, looking slightly pale (no mean feat for her). She presses a delicate hand to her head. "Why can I only remember 'Bony M' from last night...?" she asks in a weak voice.

Stephie lets that one slip past so she can talk to Cass "So," she says, crossing her arms pertly, "he didn't know he was here until he was here?" Cass nods. She knows she shouldn't be so obvious, but she can't stop looking at Bene and Callie off to one side, just talking at the moment. "He's a model?" Stephie continues.

Cass nods again, momentarily turning her attention back to the queen bee. "Acting experience is good for him, it'll help him convey emotions."

Stephie's eyes narrow. "So, he's not visited you in all this time?" Her tone is insinuating, slithering like a snake into the conversation.

Cass' veneer slips slightly. She signs in exasperation. "Stephie, we don't go out because it's convenient...!"

"So why DOES he go out with you?" Stephie smirks.

Cass shakes her head, not bothering to look at the smug queen bee-yotch. "It's one of those wonderful things, and it's none of your business." Suddenly, her heart leaps as she sees Ms Preston lean in and KISS Bene

and the ground leaps up from beneath them all. The earth ruptures, jagged cracks knifing through the turf in random directions. Panicked film crew scatters in its wake.

Cass is a little taken aback. "Okay... God is on my side..."

Ms Preston slightly perturbed now that her Sundance flick's suddenly become a disaster movie. "The whole film's RUINED!" she complains in a shrill voice. "There's a HOLE in the ground!" She waves he arms about ineffectually.

Off to one side, observing the chaotic aftermath of the spontaneous earthworks, a familiar face shakes her head. "I didn't know this was meant to be apocalyptic!" Candy says. Cynth can only watch on awe.

"Neither did anyone else!" Cass observes. She feels a little better that this strangeness has been somewhat mitigated by the sudden appearance of her friends, but in the back of her mind can't help but wonder whether the two things are related. In any case, she seizes the moment. "Come meet Bene!" Cass has no trouble dragging them over to him. She introduces Candy and Cynth to the model, the latter's heart going pitter-pat. "He's SMOKIN' hot!" she observes under her breath, suddenly in the mood for some hot Mediterranean lovin'.

For his part, Bene stands around looking amusingly bemused in a Bob Hope sort of way. "This only just happened," he helpfully informs the new arrivals, gesturing rather unnecessarily to the crater.

"Yeah, the earth moved after Ms Preston kissed Bene," Cass says by way of filling in the blanks.

"We have a lot of earthquakes," Candy pipes up helpfully, "but not normally this bad.

Cynth nods eagerly. "This is right on the -" she falters, noticing again how hot Bene is.

"Faultline?" Cass chips in.

"Yeah!" Cynth agrees, back with the rest of us once more.

The Slayer steels herself for some investigating. Ever the resourceful one, Candy appropriates a nearby lighting rig. She drags it over and adjusts the lamps to shine down into the crater. The light goes down about six feet or so, and then opens up into a chamber of sorts, with indistinct yet captivatingly interesting markings on the floor.

Bene pulls Cass aside. "Do you want to come up to my room?" he asks, deploying his best Sean Connery eyebrow. Cass looks him dead in his dark, lustrous eyes. "Do you want to come visit my grandma?"

That pushes Bene back half a step. "I... didn't think we were at the 'meeting the grandparents' stage.' Cass seems somehow taller. "You're right, I think we're at the 'not at telling my teacher' stage."

A ripple of sensitive understanding washes over Bene's immaculately maintained features as he turns on the charm. "You're mad," he observes.

"No," Cass states, dangerously calm and focussed. "You've got to go back?"

"Yeah," Bene nods. "I've got work." He regards her in an infuriatingly jovial manner. "You're jealous...?"

Cass is maddened that he seems vaguely amused by the notion. "No," she states again. "Why would I be?" "Why am I getting that impression?" Bene asks.

"That'd be hus."

Suddenly, the well of emotion surging up in Cass swirls violently into fear as two gnarled hands appear from nowhere, holding long dull blades to the startled warmbloods' throats. Cass has just enough time to register that their assailants are vampires dressed in ragged, patchwork denim and leather, one with a lattice of safety pins, the other with an amazing monocolour denim jacket covered in handwritten slogans.

"Right, you two, we're going dahn there," he announces, and the two are bundled towards the crater.

Safety-pins tilts his head back. "Gabriella!"

In a flash, something leaps lithely from the crater in an ostentatiously 'Matrix'-like manner. A long figure lands silently before them, a vision in tight black, crossbow cradled at the ready.

"Gabriella, they're being right co-operative," safety-pins the thugs observes.

The newcomer considers this. She nodding approvingly, long ringlets of golden hair falling thatch-like from a long oval face. "That's good."

"What about the film crew?" Cass manages to ask, the blade licking at her skin.

Gabriella regards the both of them with preternaturally large eyes. She purse her small ruby lips. "We'll keep one as a hostage, send the other one into the treasure room to set off any traps." she sashays towards the captives, placing a hand on a delicately curved hip. "Any preferences?" she inquires impishly. Cass's and Bene's eyes meet as the vampires grin and chuckle evilly.

ACT FOUR

The cold knife makes Cass's breath catches in her throat as she sizes up the woman in front of her. Bene remains quite still next to her as his vampire holds his knife underneath Bene's jaw, networks of safety-pin chains jingling. Cass caught a glimpse of the multiple slogans and band names written in biro on her vampire's filthy denim jacket, but had no time to take in the finer points. Her assessment of Gabriella is hampered by his throaty chuckling in her ear.

"I think Aladdin here will do just nicely", she announces.

Cass gasps and tenses. "No, wait!" She tries to keep her distance from her foul-smelling captor. "Send me. I'm lighter, smaller, faster... He'll only get in the way...!"

Gabriella cocks a perfect eyebrow at this gutsy young warmblood. She nods, amused at her moxie. "Alright, then, you be the 'canary', and we retain tall dark and 'hunksome' here as collateral." She looks at the vampire holding Bene. "How about you keep that knife on his throat, Verklempt?"

Verklempt grins. "Ar'ight!" He swings his knife over to rest against the other vampire's jugular.

"'IS throat!" bellows Cass' captor indignantly, and with an embarrassed jerk, the knife is at Bene's throat once more.

Gabriella rolls her large, sparkling eyes in exasperation, then turns and saunters into the factory. All eyes settle on this ravishing newcomer, and she seems to relish the attention. "We have a knife at the neck of this nice person," she says in a melodious raised voice, indicating the helpless Bene with a languid sweep of her slim arm. "Kindly remain quiet while I go spelunking." She goes to leave, though her power-speech is spolt somewhat by Cynth fiddling with the lighting rig and temporarily dazzling those present.

Meanwhile, Candy has made it to the other side of the crevasse. She stealthily reaches into her backpack, and signals Cynth to jump backwards into the light.

Gabriella decides to seize the day, starting with Cass. "You're coming back with me." She strides to the lip of the hole. "Thugsby..." She indicates with a wave of her hand, and Cass' captor leers as he casually pitches the young woman at the crevasse. Cass manages dextrously to balance; instinctively, she grabs for a handhold - and finds Candy's hand!

Gabriella's eyes narrow as she takes in this interfering do-gooder. "Drop her," she instructs in an icy tone. "Let her go!" Suddenly, the do-gooder releases the canary's hand and both women drop into the crevasse. Gabriella shrugs philosophically: "Fair enough".

With the attention centred on the newcomers and the goings-on at the edge of the hole, Cynth manages to to sneak close to the vampires.

"Wot now?" Thugsby inquires.

Gabriella sighs, getting a headache from having to think down to these punks' level. She staes into the hole after the two women. "Why don't you go and get me something from the buffet? Like a caterer?"

"Pukka," Thugsby acknowledges, and goes off a-fetching.

A short distance below, Cass and Candy land with relative dignity in a perfectly square room. They barely have time to take in the burnished clay walls and simple yet elegant carvings before Gabriella lands before them with a creak of leather and rustle of hair. She smirks at them, eyeing them up as a cat does to cornered mice. Her surprise when Candy launches herself at her is considerable so that she only just manages to dodge a stake, and is as palpable as her anger when this allows Cass to drive a stake into her midriff, near the heart. Gabriella's sunny features cloud. "Hey! That's not cool!"

"I thought that's what we were DOING down here!" Candy retorts, coiling like a sleek jungle cat. Gabriella leaps gracefully back like a gazelle and fires her crossbow; the bolt goes wide and bites into a wall.

Above, Thugsby reaches the buffet table. He claps his hands together as he surveys the spread, flatly humming 'London Calling' to himself. An young woman's arm shoots forth from beneath the table, driving a stake into the unsuspecting vampire's chest. As he turns to dust, the shocked Thusby's final thoughts are of the all-vampire punk band he never got to start, 'The Undead Kennedys'. The film crew is oblivious to what just happened, chatting away quietly as Cynth coughs discretely and brushes vampire out of her hair.

"I was playing 'Yhatzee' last night... could've really used 'spelunking'..."

Down below, Cass shows her "Crouching Tiger" stylee and attacks Gabriella with a roundhouse kick; Gabriella ducks the attack. Candy strikes, wielding the ancient Celtic battle-cry of "Stakey stakey stake!". Gabriella just manages to dodge, increasingly on the back foot. "Not cool!"

Candy closes in. "So, why're you here... stupid bitch!"

Gabriella snarls and launches herself at Candy, who nimbly somersaults out of the way. "Can't catch me!" she teases in mid-air. She lands on a circular starburst seal, which clicks loudly and the opens. A stone pedestal rises from the floor. Incongruously, a very small ancient wooden box attached to a leather strap rests in the centre. "What's that?" Candy asks.

Meanwhile, above, Cynth has managed to work her way behind Verklempt, partly covered by the sound of his safety-pin chains. She readies a stake, steadies herself and strikes - but the wooden point catches in the chains, spoiling her aim. Verklempt bellows in pain and surprise as someone drives wood into him. He awkwardly spins around, gaze alighting murderously at the little emo chick crouching there. "'ERE! Woss your game, then?!" A ripple of shock reverberates through the other denim-and-vinyl vampires. A cry goes up, spreading like fire. "Slayer...! It's the SLAYER!"

This throws Verklempt; he glances about wildly, chains jangling, knife dancing alarmingly at Bene's throat. "Where's Fhugsby?!" he yells, almost panicked. He recovers and puts the hostage between himself at 'the Slayer'. "Stay back or 'e's spaghetti!" he snarls. His tough exterior is undermined by the stake still protruding from his back. Slowly, not taking her eyes from the vampire, Cynth rises.

Below, Gabriella gasps at the sight of the little box. "The phylactery?!" she gasps, unable to believe her wide eyes.

"It's a condom!" Cass calls.

"Take a photo for Brian!" Candy shouts, and Cass manages to wield her Blackberry do so. Before the vampire can react, Candy grabs the object; blades flash outwards from the pedestal, almost biting into her arm. The box crumbles into tiny flakes in her hands. Gabriella is outraged, her face twisted. "It's a fake!" she spits. Almost unseen, small holes open in the walls in martial rows.

Above, a strange proto-Helsinki Syndrome standoff has developed between the vampires and the film crew. An exasperated Evelyn is trying to explain the film to their captors. "No, there's no brother!" she wails

Cynth steps forward slowly with the easy grace and menace of a falling bombshell. "We'll kill 'im," one of the vampires pipes up, "and you'll cry,'cause 'e's pretty!"

Verklempt shakes his head ruefully. "Nah, mate," he says in a grim voice. "Slayer's don't cry."

Below, Candy's Slayer reflexes allow her to pull Cass to the floor and drop prone herself as the air comes alive with a beestorm of darts, buzzing through the air and biting for flesh. Gabriella cries out and winces as she's struck, but uses the impetus to leap upwards from the room. Cass looks for Candy amidst the blistering barrage: "Save Bene and the others!" As if their day wasn't already perfect, the room itself starts to crumble. Chunks of wall crash and splinter on the floor as the ground trembles with the impact.

Above, Cynth steps closer to Verklempt, calm as a samurai in the face of death. The other vamps match her footstep for footstep as they back off. "We're gonna wait outside!" one calls as they hurry to a minimum safe distance.

Gabriella lands before them, slightly dishevelled and with fury bubbling beneath her refined features. Her large unblinking eyes survey the scene and pick out the stake in Verklempt's back and Cynth standing there. A smile twitches at the edge of the vampire leader's mouth, and she begins slowly circling towards 'the Slayer', trying to put the warmblood's back to her vampires so they can blindside her. Slowly, they see their advantage and begin to advance on the young woman. Unseen behind Gabriella, Candy leaps from the hole to land on the side opposite the vampire leader; conflicted for a moment at someone else being the Slayer and thereby the target and how GOOD that feels, a stake suddenly appears in her hand and her eyes narrow. "One on one with the Slayer...!" Gabriella luxuriates over each sweet word as she closes in on her target. She can see her boys inch closer to the girl's unprotected back. Her unlife has been a crossbow bolt aimed at this point. She tears 'the Slayer's' throat open with her piercing eyes and smiles.

"I've wanted to drink your blood-"

and her pale grey eyes flash wide one last time in the instant before she crumbles to dust.

Cynth spins to face the remaining vampires, smile as wide as a country mile: "See, boys? With my eyes CLOSED...!"

Verklempt looks very nervous. He points the knife threateningly at Cynth, and everyone can see it's shaking. "You got LUCKY-!"

and the knife clangs to the gound as the vampires bolt, routed by the superior emo-Slayer. Cynth throws a stake after them, which clips one as they disappear into the industrial jungle.

Cynth gleefully watches them go... then her face falls. "Where's Cass?" she asks aloud.

At the edge of the hole, Cass tries desperately to climb up when all the handholds are crumbling; she slips, her heart leaps into her mouth... an arm reaches down and a strong hand closes around her wrist. Coughing from the dust and half deaf from the crash of falling masonry, she is hauled bodily back into the light... by a very concerned Bene.

"You okay?" she coughs, looking up at her rescuer.

"Are YOU okay?" Bene asks.

Most of the dust seems to have left her lungs and the ring in her ears is subsiding. "I THINK so..." With a final rumble like the passing of an empire, the hole collapses in on itself, shooting dust into the sky in an ugly plume. It flutters to earth as everyone regards Cynth in awe. Her eyes flicker from side to side as she realises the charade is no longer relevant. She drops the knife, runs to her car, and drives away. Evelyn steps forward, watching the car disappear into the distance as thoughts chasing each other's tails in her mind. She looks up, smiling. "I have an idea for a sequel...!"

With filming completed, the crew pack equipment away, jovial at having escaped those nuts and joking about this darn dust that gets in everywhere.

Off to one side, Bene and Cass star in their own little prime-time drama. "That was interesting!" he observes good-naturedly, still buzzing slightly from the adrenaline surge comedown of being threatened with a knife and saving Cass.

"Yeah!" Cass smiles. She tries to push the memories of the overheard conversation away, but they refuse to go.

Bene cocks his head to one side, smiling that winning smile that first drew Cass to him. "I thought you said this town was boring?"

"It GETS boring..." she points out. She wants to come closer and hold him, but something's holding her back. Something's changed, and she fears it's changed forever before she could get to it.

"Crazy thugs with Halloween masks gets boring?" Bene chides her good-naturedly, not giving Cass anything to feed off. "This is one strange place!"

Cass smiles briefly, hugging herself. "Hey, you're the one from New York...!"

Bene becomes serious. "I gotta go back."

Cass looks up at him, wanting to plead but refusing to let herself. "Can't you stay another day?"

He shakes his head. "No, I have to go tomorrow." He shrugs. "Somehow, I don't think my scene survived."

"You can stay if you want," Cass points out, afraid he's already made his decision and is just telling her out of some misguided sense of propriety.

Bene looks away for a second; when he looks at Cass again, there's a glimmer of pain in his eyes. "I think we should split up."

Just like that, everything does change. Cass feels sick and helpless, but she'll be damned if she lets anything show.

"The long distance thing is tricky," Bene adds, trying to not come off as a jerk.

Cass looks at her feet. Scuff marks from the subterranean escape have ruined her shoes; normally she'd be crushed, but it just seems like small stuff now. "Yeah, it is," she agrees. Cass looks up and stares at Bene, the man she knows every inch of, whom she gave herself to. Her tone is bitter. "My stuff's REALLY normal, and I REALLY appreciate you abandoning me here with it...!"

Bene struggles to find someplace to look. "Unh, yeah..." He turns to go, and then just slowly walks away. Cass can't bear to see if he looks back. She goes to walk home. Stephie comes up to her, timing impeccable as always. "What was that all about?"

Cass takes a breath, the sick feeling in her stomach slowly worsening. "He wigged out."

Stephie snorts. "Men are weak."

"What ya gonna do?" Cass shrugs. It suddenly seems colder and darker than it ought to.

"We could get drunk...?" Stephie suggests, arching an impeccably plucked eyebrow.

"Er, no," Cass replies. She looks up. "How about you give me a lift home?" Stephie nods, and they leave the factory, hole and film crew behind.

Cass arrives back at her grandmother's house. Almost robotically, she goes straight past her gran'ma and into her room. The moment she's inside and completely alone, it all hits her and she collapses onto the bed, sobbing so hard she shakes. Through a trick of time and space, hear sombre music as we see Brian and Meryll looking at the picture of the wooden box, talking. Meanwhile, Cynth and Candy are enjoying a sleepover at Cynth's. Candy relishes the peace and freedom of her friend's house. Cynth looks up from her stack of magazines. "We should see if Cass is OK."

"Yeah!" Candy agrees. "No, wait...!" she catches herself. "She'll be 'busy'!" The two collapse nto giggles, as meanwhile Cass can't see the lights of Exeter township for tears.

For his part, Zak lies on his bed at the Stevens-Knight house, a radiant smile on his blissed-out dial. Back in her cold lonely room, no matter which way she twists herself, Cass can't get this horrible feeling to let her go; Cass weeps, as all over Exeter below, lights wink on as families and lovers come together in the gathering darkness.

(C) SLAYERS EAST SEASON IV 2006-2007

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