[Wesley steers a small ship across the dark ocean.]
So, what's it gonna be tonight, captain? Bicycle, old tire, or maybe we'll get real lucky and catch us nice shopping cart. Here's a wacky thought: why don't you swim down there yourself?
[Wesley flips a switch and looks down at a readout.]
No contact. We'll try the next grid.
[He walks over to the map laid out on the table and makes some markings.]
You really think finding Angel is going to change anything?
Everything changes.
Well, I guess anything is better than sitting around in my cage all day with nothing to do but to fill my bucket.
Perhaps you should have considered that before slitting my throat.
[He walks back to the steering wheel.]
The great Wesley Wyndham-Price, the shining beacon of all that's good and pure. But wait, no! That's before he started banging the enemy and keeping slave-girl in his closet.
You were always a slave, Justine. You just couldn't see the chains.
Thanks, Swami, I'll meditate on that.
You think she would be disappointed?
Who?
Your sister. That's where it all began, isn't it? Sister murdered by a vampire, consumed by a need of revenge...
For justice!
Is that what you call it? Turning a son against his father.
Angel got what he deserved.
We all get what we deserve. You and Holtz deserved each other. You two have so much in common. Pain, loss, deep seated lack of anything approaching humor.
I don't know. We had a few laughs. Getting you to steal Angel's baby, now that was a good one.
Better than tricking Connor into sinking his father to the bottom of the ocean?
Well, that was worth a couple of yuks, too.
Not much of a plan though, was it, really? Easy to figure out which door to kick in when Angel went missing. And not much harder to persuade you to betray everything Holtz had given his life for. Not that it was worth very much. Well, you should know. You're the one that ended it.
[Justine picks up the wrench that was holding down the maps and hauls back to hit the back of Wesley's head.]
[Without turning to look] I'll take away your bucket.
[Justine tosses the wrench back on the table.]
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