Willow: What time is it?
Xander: There's a clock on the wall behind you, Will.
Willow: I know, but there's a watch right there above your hand.
Dawn: When I was younger, I used to put my chopsticks in my mouth like this... and then Buffy would chase me around the house yelling "I'm the Slayer! I'm gonna get you!"
Anya: That's disturbing. You're emotionally scarred and will end up badly.
Anya: Well, we could make a wager this time. You could give me real money. That would be different.
Xander: And after we teach her to gamble, maybe we can all get drunk.
Anya: I don't think the bar would serve her. But we could bring something in. Strawberry Schnapps tastes just like real ice cream.
Xander: How's about a movie? They're showing 'em in theaters now. I hear it's like watching a video with a bunch of strangers and a sticky floor.
Dawn: Alone time always translates into "get Dawn out of the house so we can have loud, obnoxious sex."
Anya: (to Xander) Oh, does that mean we can't?
Joyce: I don't know, Buffy. I think I'll look like I had a cat on my head.
Buffy: But a very well groomed cat.
Joyce: I think maybe I'll stick with a scarf.
Buffy: Come on. Wigs are fun. We can get you a whole bunch of different ones. You know, you can be, like, Sixties mum, Action mom, French Maid mom...
Joyce: I must be getting better 'cause you're making fun of me.
Buffy: Every time you show up like this, you risk all your parts, you know that?
Spike: I wouldn't be here if I didn't have a good reason. As usual I'm here to help you and I - Are you naked under there?
Anya: Who ordered more chicken's feet? The ones we have aren't moving at all.
Xander: That's generally what happens when you cut them off the chicken.
Anya: I'm serious. Maybe we could do a holiday promotion - one free with every purchase.
Giles: Ah, yeah. Dear holiday memories. Merry tykes by the fire, enjoying their new Christmas chicken feet.
Willow: Aw, holding them tight as they fall asleep, painting their little toenails.
Anya: That's very humorous. Make fun of the ex-demon. I can just hear you in private: "I dislike that Anya. She's newly human and strangely literal."
Willow: What? I don't say that. No one says that. No one talks that way.
Anya: Well, there's nothing wrong with my idea, anyway. I've been very good for this store. If it wasn't for me, Giles would be a terrified old man staring at a quarterly tax statement and wetting himself.
Anya: Fine! Take her side instead of mine, even though I'm the one who sleeps with you and feeds you and bathes you.
Willow: She bathes you?
Xander: Only in an erotic, Penthouse-y way. Not in a sponge-bathy, geriatric sort of --
Giles: Please. Stop. I beg of you.
Giles: Anya, will you mind the store?
Anya: Have a nice day. Don't get killed!
Xander: I guess everybody jumped ship once word got out that the Slayer found their crib. I just wanna apologize for that use of the word crib.
Spike: Sometimes I envy you so much it chokes me. And sometimes I think I got the better deal. To be that close to her and not have her. To be all alone, even when you're holding her, feeling her, feeling her beneath you, surrounding you - the scent. No, you got the better deal.
Buffy: You are unbelievable! You're giving me an ultimatum?
Riley: I'm not.
Buffy: Yes, you are! You expect me to get over it now or you're gone!
Buffy: What are you doing here?
Xander: I thought you might need to talk. Then I saw the skirmish happen. I was going to lend a hand, but I noticed you grew a few extra ones.
Buffy: I don't even know who he is any more. I mean, I thought he was... dependable.
Xander: Dependable? What is he, State Farm?
Xander: I've gotta say something 'cause I don't think I've made it clear. I'm in love with you. Powerfully, painfully in love. The things you do, the way you think, the way you move. I get excited every time I'm about to see you. You make me feel like I've never felt before in my life - like a man. I just thought you might wanna know.