Laugh Lines, Love Lines


Tara: "Your one-stop spot to shop for all your occult needs." Catchy.
Giles: Think so?
Tara: Uh-huh. In a...hard to read sort of way, but I think it's great.
Giles: Oh.

Xander: I'm just saying, I think it's rude.
Willow: I wouldn't call it rude.
Xander: Rude-ish. Rude-esque. Whatever you want to call it. When a person makes a "destroy all vampires" date, it's simple courtesy to wait for your co-destroyers. Am I right, Giles?
Giles: I'm almost certain you're not, but to be fair, I wasn't listening.

Xander: Okay, we were supposed to hook up with Riley this morning, to take on a nest o'vamps holed up in a tomb? So we get there, and guess what? Tell him, Will.
Willow: Tomb go boom.
Xander: Yep. Captain America blowed it up real good.

Anya: That's what I've been saying. I mean, I for one didn't want to start my day with a slaughter. Which really just goes to show how much I've grown!

Riley: Were you ... were you just smelling her sweater?
Spike: No. Well, yeah, all right, I did. It's a ... predator thing, nothin' wrong with it. Just ... know your enemy's scent, whet the appetite for a hunt. Ah, that's the stuff! Slayer musk, it's bitter and aggravating!

Spike: Hey, watch it! Easy, you're bruising the leather! Look. I know for a bleeding fact the Slayer wouldn't mind me being here.
Riley: Right. What's a little sweater-sniffing between sworn enemies.
Spike: Your girl in the habit of buying her enemies drinks? 'Cause she spent the better part of last night with me, doing just that.
Riley: 'Cause you guys are such tight pals.
Spike: Yeah.
Riley: That's good. Tell me another.
Spike: Okay, how 'bout this one. Twice in recent memory, she's had the lover-wiccas do a deinvite on the house. Keep out specific vamps. Ever ask yourself why she's never taken my name off the guest list?
Riley: Because you're harmless.
Spike: Oh yeah, right. Takes one to know, I suppose. Least I still got the attitude. What do you got, a piercing glance? Face it, white bread. Buffy's got a type, and you're not it. She likes us dangerous, rough, occasionally bumpy in the forehead region. Not that she doesn't like you...but sorry Charlie, you're just not dark enough.

Spike: Hey...Hey! Hey! Hey!
Riley: Am I dark enough for you now?
Spike: Bloody pull me back in, you sod, I'm starting to sizzle!
Riley: You don't know anything about Buffy, you never did. I'm the one who knows what she needs.
Spike: Oh yeah? That's why you're with her at hospital right now, giving her what she needs.
Riley: What are you talking about?
Spike: Don't you know, didn't she tell you?
Riley: You tell me.
Spike: Mum's sickly. Buffy took her to the hospital for a bit of prod 'n probe. Bite-sized one went too. You know, it's-it's funny her not calling you about that. I've known since last night.

Spike: Blanket! Blanket!

Willow: It feels like we're going around in circles.
Xander: Our circles are going around in circles. We've got dizzy circles here, Giles.

Tara: Something old. So old it pre-dates the written word.
Willow: Giles, the Dagon sphere. You said that was created to repel...
Giles: That which cannot be named.
Willow: So I'm thinking maybe she...
Giles: Predates language itself?

Xander: Well hey, if it means I don't have to read any more, woo! And might I add a big hoo!

Anya: Hey. Hey! HEY! HEY!!
Giles: Anya, your heys are startling the customers.
Xander: And pretty much the state.

Anya: Are you stupid or something?
Giles: Allow me to answer that question with a firing.
Xander: She's kidding! An, we talked about the employee-employer vocabulary no-nos. That was number five.

Dawn: She sure cries a lot less with you than she did with Angel.
Riley: Angel ... made her cry a lot, huh?
Dawn: Everything with him was all ... eee, you know?
Riley: All...?
Dawn: You know ... "my boyfriend's a vampire" crazy crazy. Every day was like the end of the world. She doesn't get all worked up like that over you.

Xander: Just once I would like to run into a cult of bunny worshippers.
Anya: Great. Thank you very much for those nightmares.

Xander: Yeah. Crazy. Going off alone, half-cocked, instead of waiting for much-needed backup ... charging in with a big old hand grenade ... oh, wait.

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