Checkpoint
B=Buffy, G=Giles, X=Xander, W=Willow, R=Riley, S=Spike, A=Anya, D=DawnT=Tara, J=Joyce, Gl=Glory, Q=Quintin Travers
B: Arrive? They're coming here? Now? Why do they have to come here?
X: Yeah, don't they have phones? [in fake Brit accent] 'ello, Buffy! Here's some stuff we know, pip, pip!
B: Yeah! Phones. See, I'd like them on phones.
T: Well, what's so bad about them coming here? Aren't they good guys? I mean, Watchers. That's just like other Gileses, right?
B: Yeah! They're scary and horrible.
G: Essentially, their agenda is the same as ours. They want to save the world and kill demons.
A: Kill the CURRENT demons, right? CURRENT demons.
B: They put me through that test and almost killed me. And then when I was Faith, they almost killed me again. Honestly, I really can't handle almost being killed right now.
A: They don't sound very ex-demon compatible.
T: Are you sure they're English? I thought English people were, uh, gentler... than normal people.
Gl: I have been cooling my heels in this crappy little town long enough. Sunnydale's got too many demons and not enough retail outlets.
Demon monk: All you need is the key.
Gl: Yes, and I bet Mousey the Vampire Slayer has an idea where it is.
G: If you're serious about this, madam, you need to be very careful. Measure precisely, and please, don't step ahead.
Q: Oh, he's quite right. You wouldn't want to do anything dangerous. Turn the wrong person... into a badger.
Watcher: This statue... its removal from Burma is a criminal offense, and when triggered, it has the power to melt human eyeballs.
G: In that case, I severely underpriced it.
A: Customers! Please, bring your money back.
A: Council? You're the Council? Welcome to our store. We're closed now. I'll be in the back.
G: You all stand around and look somber. Good job.
Q: You used to respect us, Giles. You used to be one of us.
G: You used to pay me.
Prof: They held the tenet that in order to be forgiven, one first had to sin. Rasputin embraced this doctrine and proceeded to sin impressively and repeatedly.
B: There's also a near-consensus about Columbus, you know, until someone asked the Vikings what they were up to in the 1400's and they're, like, discovering this America-shaped continent.
Prof: Maybe you'd prefer I'd step aside so the you can teach your own course: Speculation 101 perhaps? Intro to Flights of Fancy?
B: Maybe you would like to teach your own class!
Vamp: Who're you talking to?
S: I saved you.
B: I was regrouping.
S: You were about to be regrouped into separate piles.
S: Wishing I was your boyfriend What's-his-height? Oh, wait, he's run off.
B: I don't need a boyfriend, to rescue me or for any other reason.
S: Don't need or can't keep?
S: Maybe that's your problem -- maybe you push them away. Or is it the other? Maybe you cling too much. Or maybe, your beauty's fading, the stress of slaying ageing you prematurely -- things not as high, not as firm.
Dr. Ben: Don't touch me -- you're... crusty.
Jinx: She's short, symmetrical, hair on top. Buffy something?
Q: The council fights evil. The Slayer is the instrument by which we fight. The Council remains, the Slayers change. It's been that way from the beginning.
G: That's a very comforting, bloodless way of looking at it, isn't it?
Gl: All he has to do is turn over that tiny, squirming, Slayer girl!
Gl: Sweet, lumpy minion. You're the only one that understands. Probably because I haven't sucked your brain out yet.
G: It's about who has the power.
B: I'm guessing they do. Big power outage in Buffy country.
G: I should have set you loose on them, that's what I should have done.
B: Giles, that Travers guy is like 60. I can't hit him. Can I?
G: They can kill you with the strike of a pen -- poncy sods.
G: Holding what they know hostage with a gun pointed at my bleeding green card, no less.
A: Anya Christina Emmanuella Jenkins, 20 years old, born on the 4th of July, and don't think there weren't jokes about that my whole life, Mister, 'cause there were. "Who's our little patriot?" they'd say, when I was younger, and therefore smaller and shorter than I am now.
Watcher: So, you spell it A-N-Y-A, then?
Watcher: I need to know a little bit more about the Slayer, and about the both of you -- your relationship, whatever you can tell me.
T: Our relationship?
W: We're friends.
T: Good friends.
W: Girlfriends, actually.
T: Yes, we're girlfriends.
W: We're in love. We're lovers. We're lesbian, gay-type lovers.
Watcher: I meant your relationship with the Slayer.
T: Um... just good friends.
Watcher: So, you have no special skills or powers or knowledge you bring to the mix, neither of you?
A: Just enthusiasm for killing the demons. Go deadness for the demons!
X: We merged, and I was the heart part of a Super-Buffy. Again, let me stress the not-as-weird thing.
Watcher: Interesting. What level are you at?
T: Level?
Watcher: Magical proficiency level?
W: Oh, uh, high -- high level. Very high. One of those top levels
T: Five.
Watcher: And you're registered as practicing witches under the names as you gave them to me?
T: R-r-r-registered?
S: Personally, I'm shocked. The girl's slipping.
Watcher: You've noticed a decline in her work?
S: Oh, yeah. See, the poor little twig can't keep a man. Gets her all down. Few more disappointments and she'll be crying on my shoulder, mark my words.
S: Heard of me, have you?
Watcher: I... wrote my thesis on you.
Q: Agility, clarity, stamina, and strength. These are the qualities that the Slayer must possess to do her job.
B: What came after agility?
Gl: Buffy, if I wanted to fight, you could tell by the being dead already.
Gl: Ooh, I like her! She's sassy. And I'll kill her. I'll kill your mom, I'll kill your friends, and I'll make you watch when I do.
Gl: Obviously, this is a one-time only deal. Next time we meet, something you love dies bloody.
S: Oh, it's the Slayer. For a second there, I was worried.
S: They didn't put a chip in your head, did they?
B: No.
S: Be funny if they did.
S: Come on in. There's plenty of blood in the fridge.
D: Do you mean, like, real blood?
S: What do you think?
D: Mostly, I think ewww!
S: Yeah, yeah. "anything happens to 'em, I'll stake you good and proper." Sing me a new one sometime, eh? That bit's gone stale.
J: I love what you've, um, neglected to do with the place.
S: Don't make a lot of noise. Passions is coming on.
J: Passions? Oh, do you think Timmy's really dead?
S: Oh, no, no. she can just sew him back together. He's a doll, for god's sake.
T: Why doesn't Mr. Giles put them all out of here?
X: Because if they deport him, they're not just destroying his career, they're condemning the man to a lifetime diet of blood sausage, bangers, and mash.
B: Uh, guys? Any way we could not do this?
B: No review. No interrogation. No questions you know I can't answer. No hoops, no jumps. And no interruptions.
B: She told me I'm a bug, I'm a flea, she could squash me in a second. Only she didn't.
Watcher: Oh, this is beyond insolence!
[Buffy throws sword across room and into wall inches from Watcher]
B: I'm fairly certain I said no interruptions.
X: That was excellent!
B: You can't do anything with the information you have, except maybe publish it in the Everyone-Thinks-We're- Insano's Home Journal.
B: The magic shop will remain open, Mr. Giles will stay here as my official Watcher, reinstated at full salary.
G: [coughing] Retroactive.
B: To be paid retroactively from the month he was fired.
B: I will continue my work with the help of my friends.
Watcher: I-I, uh, I don't want a sword thrown at me, but... civilians... we're talking about children.
B: We're talking about two very powerful witches, and a thousand-year-old ex-demon.
A: Willow's a demon?!
Watcher: The boy? No power there.
B: "The boy's" clocked more field time than all of you combined. He's part of the unit.
W: That's Riley-speak.
X: I've clocked field time!
Q: Uh... Rupert...
G: Quintin?
Q: When we inventoried your shop, we found a bottle of single-malt Scotch behind the incense holders...
G: It's--it's not, you know, during working hours...
Q: I think I could use a glass.
B: Just tell me what kind of demon I'm fighting.
Q: Well, that's the thing, you see. Glory isn't a demon.
B: What is she?
Q: She's a god.
B: Oh.