Hush
B=Buffy, G=Giles, X=Xander, W=Willow, O=Oz, J=JoyceR=Riley, PW=Professor Walsh, F=Forrest, Ol=Olivia
PW: So this is what it is. Talking about communication. Talking about language. Not the same thing. It's about inspiration. Not the idea, but the moment before the idea, when it's total. When it blossoms in your mind and connects to everything. It's about the thoughts and experiences that we don't have a word for.
R: A demonstration, right?
PW: Be a good boy.
B: This feels very strange.
R: Don't worry. If I kiss you, it'll make the sun go down.
B: Fortune favors the brave.
Little girl: Can't even shout, can't even cry
The gentlemen are coming by
Looking in windows, knocking on doors
They need to take seven, and they might take yours.
Can't call to Mom, can't say a word
You're gonna die a-screaming, but you won't be heard.
W: Man, that was an exciting class, huh?
B: Oh, yeah - wow.
W: And the last twenty minutes - it was a revelation. Just laid out everything we need to know for the final. I'd hate to have missed that.
B: Just tell me I didn't snore.
W: Very discreet. Minimal drool.
B: Oh, yay.
W: So, were you dreaming?
B: Yeah. And it was kind of intense.
R: Intense. Really? 'Cause you seemed so peaceful.
R: So tell me about your dream. As a psych major, I'm qualified to go, "hmmm".
B: I don't really remember.
R: Well, did I appear at all in this dream?
B: There might have been a cameo.
R: Is that right?
B: More like a featured role.
R: Romantic lead?
B: I'm not saying a word.
R: So what have you got going on tonight?
B: Oh, patrolling.
R: Patrolling?
B: Uh, petroleum.
R: Petroleum?
B: Uh-huh.
R: Tonight you have crude oil?
B: And homework.
B: < sarcastically > Fortune favors the brave.
G: Well, it could definitely be one of your prophetic dreams, or it could just be the eternal mystery that is your brain.
S: We're out of weetabix.
G: We are out of weetabix because you ate it all. Again.
S: Get some more.
G: I thought vampires were supposed to eat blood.
S: Yeah, well, sometimes I like to crumble up the weetabix in the blood. Gives it a little texture.
G: Since the picture you just painted means that I will never touch food of any kind again, you'll just have to pick it up yourself.
S: Sissy.
X: How could you say I'm using you?
A: You don't care about what I think, you don't ask about my day.
X: You really did turn into a real girl, didn't you?
A: See? You make jokes during my pain.
A: Well, I think we should talk about it now.
G: Thank you for knocking.
A: This isn't a relationship. You don't need me. All you care about is lots of orgasms.
X: Okay, remember how we talked about private conversations? How they're less private when they're in front of my friends?
S: Oh, we're not your friends. Go on.
G: Please don't.
G: I need you to take Spike for a few days.
X: What?
S: What?
A: What?
S: I'm not stayin' with him.
G: I have a friend who's coming to town, and I'd like us to be alone.
A: Oh, you mean an orgasm friend?
G: Yes, that's exactly the most appalling thing you could have said.
S: I'm not having these two shag while I'm tied to a chair three feet away.
X: That's not exactly one of my fantasies, either.
Wicca girl: We come together, daughters of Gaia, sisters to the moon. We walk with the darkness, the wolf at our side. Through the waterfall of power, to the blackest heart of eternity. I think we should have a bake sale.
Wicca girl: You know I do an empowering lemon bundt.
B: So, not stellar, huh?
W: Talk. All talk. Blah, blah, Gaia. Blah, blah, moon. Menstrual life-force power thingy.
B: No actual witches in your witch group?
W: No. Bunch of wannablessedbes. You know, nowadays, every girl with a henna tattoo and a spice rack thinks she's a sister to the dark ones.
W: Hey, how's with you and Riley? You two seemed pretty snugly after class.
B: See above re: Talk. All talk.
W: Do I have to tie you two together?
W: Well, get with it. I need my vicarious smoochies.
B: I don't know. I get nervous and I start babbling, and he starts babbling, and it's a babble fest.
F: This is the burden we bear, brother. We have a gig that would inevitably cause any girl living to think we are cool upon cool. Yet, we must Clark Kent our way through the dating scene, never to use our unfair advantage. Thank god we're pretty.
R: Buffy's special.
F: You think she's special? Wow, first 486 times you told me it didn't register, but now I see that you think she's special.
R: See, you're naturally inclined to talk too much. I don't have that.
F: Then get with the kissing.
S: Like I'd bite you, anyway.
X: Oh, you would.
S: Not bloody likely.
X: I happen to be very biteable, pal. I'm moist and delicious.
S: All right, yeah, fine. You're a nummy treat.
X: And don't you forget it.
S: "Xander, don't you care about me?"
X: Shut up.
S: "We never talk."
X: Shut up.
S: "Xan-der..."
X: SHUT UP!*
X: [mute, to SPIKE] *YOU* did this to me!
*large stretch of un-quoteable show**
G: So, would you say this was your best visit ever?
Ol: All the time you used to talk to me about witchcraft and darkness and the like, I just thought you were being pretentious.
G: Oh, I was. I was also right.
Ol: So everything you told me was true?
G: Well, no. I wasn't actually one of the original members of Pink Floyd, but... About the monster stuff, yes.
R: Well, I guess we have to talk.
B: I guess we do.
//long silence//