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 Laugh Lines, Love Lines

Fool for Love  

Buffy: Well, at least no major organs got kebabed.

Buffy: Accelerated healing powers come with the Slayer package. And the boyfriend who comes complete with combat medical training? That's just a Buffy Summers bonus.

Joyce: I'm fine, bordering on chipper, and tomorrow planning on being obnoxious.

Dawn: Some nail polish experiments are doomed before they even begin.
Joyce: But you keep pushing the envelope, honey.

Dawn: Did I just pull a Slayer-related Mom cover-up thing? Come on. Who's the man?
Buffy: You are. A very short, annoying man.

Dawn: Oh sure. I save your butt and you dump all your chores on me.

Dawn: When do I get to patrol?
Buffy: Not until you're never!

Xander: What's with the hand wave? You see that? Does that, like, mean something?
Willow: It's code. I think it breaks down to "choo-choo!"
Anya: It probably means to follow him. That, or wait here for him.
Willow: [whispers] Ask him.
Xander: HEY, RILEY? WHAT'S THE [gestures] ALL ABOUT?
Riley: It means "Yell real loud so the vampires who don't know we're coming will have a sporting chance."
Xander: See, now he's all mad and sarcastic.
Willow: It's because you were doing all that yelling, Mr. Stealthy-pants.

Riley: Tell you what. I'll take the cemeteries -- you guys get the Bronze.
Anya: Were we not being covert enough?
Xander: We're sorry.
Willow: Sorry.
Xander: We'll be sneakier, promise.

Xander: You know what he's like? He's like a cat. You know, a big jungle cat. How come I'm not like that? It's just so cool.
Willow: I think you're cool.

Giles: What does it say?
Buffy: Same as all the others. Slayer called, blah blah, great protector, blah blah, scary battles, blah blah, oops! She's dead. Where are the details?
Giles: Details? Well, it says this Slayer forged her own weapons.
Buffy: Gotta love a gal with an anvil.

Buffy: I realize that every Slayer comes with an expiration mark on the package, but I want mine to be a long time from now. Like a Cheeto.

Giles: The problem is that after a final battle, that, uh, it's difficult to get any, uh... well, the Slayer's not... she's rather, um...
Buffy: It's okay to use the "D" word, Giles.
Giles: Dead. And... hence not very forthcoming.
Buffy: Why didn't the Watcher's keep fuller accounts of it? The journals just... stop.
Giles: Well, I suppose if they're anything like me, they just found the whole subject too...
Buffy: Unseemly? Damn. Love ya, but you Watchers are such prigs sometimes.
Giles: Painful, I was going to say.

Spike: Ow! Wait, not "ow." Are you feeling all right, Slayer? This stuff usually hurts.

Spike: You know, there are quite a few American beers that are highly underrated. This, unfortunately, is not one of them.
Buffy: Update, Spike: We're not here to discuss the fine choice of hops.

Buffy: Tell the tale, you get the cash.
Spike: Right. You want to learn all about how I bested the Slayers, and you want to learn fast. Right, then. We fought. I won. The end. Pay up.

Spike: Since I agreed to your little proposition, we can do this my way. Wings.
Buffy: What?
Spike: Spicy buffalo wings. Order me up a plate. I'm feeling peckish.

Spike: Oh, right. Stuck in a dark corner with a creature you loathe, digging up past uglies, 'cause you're "fine".

Buffy: Were you born this big a pain in the ass?
Spike: What can I tell you, baby? I've always been bad.

William: Quickly, I'm the very spirit of vexation. What's another word for "gleaming"? It's a perfectly perfect word, as many words go, but the bother is nothing rhymes, you see.

Girl: Have you heard? They call him "William the Bloody" because of his bloody awful poetry.
Guy: It suits him. I'd rather have a railroad spike through my head than listen to that awful stuff!

Cecily: That's the problem. You're nothing to me, William. You're beneath me.

Dru: And I wonder what possible catastrophe came crashing down from heaven and brought this dashing stranger to tears?

Dru: Oh, I see you. A man surrounded by fools who cannot see his strength, his vision, his glory. That, and burning baby fish swimming all around your head.

Buffy: So you traded up on the food chain. Then what?
Spike: No, please! Don't make it sound like something you'd flip past on the Discovery channel.

Spike: Getting killed made me feel alive for the very first time.

Darla: We barely got out of London alive, because of you. Everywhere we go, it's the same story. And now...
Angelus: ...You've got me and my women hiding in the luxury of a mine shaft - all because William the Bloody likes attention. This is not a reputation we need.
Spike: Oh, I'm sorry -- did I sully our good name? We're vampires!

Spike: You know what I prefer to being hunted? Getting caught.
Angelus: That's brilliant strategy, really. Pure cunning.

Angelus: A real kill, a good kill, it takes pure artistry. Without that, we're just animals.
Spike: Poofter.

Angelus: You can't keep this up forever. If I can't teach you, maybe someday an angry crowd will. That, or the Slayer.
Spike: What's a Slayer?

Buffy: So, how'd you kill her?
Spike: Funny you should ask. Lesson the first: A Slayer must always reach for her weapon. I've already got mine.

Spike: What are you lookin' at?
Buffy: You got off on it.
Spike: Well, yeah. I suppose you're telling me you don't?

Spike: But you can kill a hundred, a thousand, a thousand thousand, and the armies of hell besides, and all we need is for one of us, just one, sooner or later to have the thing we're all hoping for.
Buffy: And that would be what?
Spike: One... good... day.

Spike: Lesson the second: Ask the right questions. You want to know how I beat them? Question isn't how'd I win. The question is, why'd they lose?

Spike: I could have danced all night with that one.
Buffy: You think we're dancing?
Spike: That's all we've ever done.

Spike: Every day you wake up, it's the same bloody question that haunts you: Is today the day I die?

Spike: Sooner or later... you're gonna want it. And the second--the second that happens, you know I'll be there. I'll slip in... have myself a real good day. Here endeth the lesson.

Spike: Did I scare ya? You're the Slayer. Do something about it. Hit me. Come on. One good swing. You know you want to.
Buffy: I mean it.
Spike: So do I. Give it me good, Buffy. Do it!

Spike: Come on, I can feel it, Slayer. You know you want to dance.
Buffy: Say it's true. Say I do want to... it wouldn't be you, Spike. It would never be you. You're beneath me.

Spike: Beneath me. I'll show her. Put her six bloody feet beneath me. Hasn't got a death wish. Bitch won't need one.

Harmony: Okay, I'm trying to be supportive here, so don't drive a stake through my heart like last time. But you can't kill Buffy. She's the Slayer. She is so gonna kick your ass.
Spike: Got two barrels here that'll prove you wrong.
Harmony: I knew you'd take this personally. You're so sensitive! How are you gonna kill her? Think! The second you even point that thing at her, you're gonna be all "Aaagh!" And then you'll get bitch-slapped up and down Main Street, unless she's had enough and just stakes you.
Spike: Sure, it'll hurt like hell for about two hours. But she'll be dead just a little longer than that.

Spike: I did it for you. And you keep punishing me. Carrying on with creatures like this.
Chaos Demon: Okay, you guys obviously have a thing going on here...

Joyce: You know the nothing that I've been dealing with the last couple of weeks? It might not be nothing.

Buffy: What is it now?
Spike: What's wrong?
Buffy: I don't want to talk about it.
Spike: Is there something I can do?


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