[Spike crashes to the floor and sits up looking furious.]
Spike: Right! We are gonna set some ground rules. Number one - don't hit me in the face. Number two - when I hit you in the face, you tell me how it feels, so I can write that on my clipboard. Number three [holds up the clipboard.] don't touch my clipboard.
[Watching from on top of a building as Angel talks to a woman he just saved, Spike guesses what is being said.]
Spike: [as Rachel.] How can I thank you, you mysterious black-clad hunk of a night thing?
[as Angel.] No need, little lady, your tears of gratitude are enough for me. You see, I was once a badass vampire, but love and a pesky curse defanged me. Now I'm just a big, fluffy puppy with bad teeth. [Rachel reaches for Angel's head.] No, not the hair. Never the hair.
[as Rachel.] But there must be some way I can show my appreciation?
[as Angel.] No, helping those in need's my job, and working up a load of sexual tension and prancing away like a magnificent poof is truly thanks enough.
[as Rachel.] I understand. I have a nephew who is gay, so...
[as Angel.] Say no more. Evil's still afoot. And I'm almost out of that nancy-boy hair-gel I like so much. Quickly, to the Angel-mobile, away.
Spike: You listen to me. [Kneels in front of her.] I've been alive a bit longer than you, and dead a lot longer than that. I've seen things you couldn't imagine, and done things I prefer you didn't. I don't exactly have a reputation for being a thinker. I follow my blood, which doesn't exactly rush in the direction of my brain. So I make a lot of mistakes, a lot of wrong bloody calls. A hundred plus years, and there's only one thing I've ever been sure of: you. [Buffy looks away; he reaches toward her face.] Hey, look at me. I'm not asking you for anything. When I say, "I love you, " it's not because I want you or because I can't have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I've seen your kindness and your strength. I've seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity exactly what you are. You're a hell of a woman. You're the one, Buffy.
Buffy: [Quietly.] I don't wanna be the one.
Spike: Oh, listen to Mary Poppins. He's got his crust all stiff and upper with that nancy-boy accent. [Everyone looking at him.] You Englishmen are always so... [pauses.] Bloody hell! [Ticks off on his fingers.] Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bollocks, oh God! I'm English!
Giles: Welcome to the nancy tribe.