The Initiative
Willow: He's not gone. He left temporarily to work out a few things. I know, that sounds lame in its vagueness, but I assure you, Oz will be back.
Willow: Okay, say that I help. And you start a conversation. It goes great. You like Buffy, she likes you. You spend time together, feelings grow deeper, and one day, without even realizing it, you find you're in love. Time stops, and it feels like the whole world is made for you two, and you two alone. Until the day one of you leaves, and rips the still-beating heart from the other, who's now a broken, hollow, mockery of the human condition.
Riley: Yep, that's the plan.
Willow: I figured it was.
Willow: Why should I trust you?
Riley: Just sort of hoping you'd think I have an honest face.
Willow: I've seen honest faces before. They usually come attached to liars.
Willow: She likes cheese.
Riley: What?
Willow: Well, I'm not saying it's the key to her heart, but Buffy, she likes cheese.
Riley: Still, I feel like I have a fighting chance. With my new accomplice.
Willow: I'm not your accomplice!
Riley: No, no, of course not.
Willow: I'm not!
Riley: You're not.
Willow: We're clear?!
Riley: We're clear.
Willow: Okay, she's wearing the halter-top with the sensible shoes: that means mostly dancing, light contact, but don't push your luck. Heavy conversation's out of the question.
Riley: So what do I do?
Willow: Ask her to dance.
Riley: Right, dance. Wait, no.
Willow: What's the matter?
Riley: I can't dance.
Willow: Then, talk. Keep eye contact. Funny is good, but don't be glib. And remember, if you hurt her, I will beat you to death with a shovel. A vague disclaimer is nobody's friend. Have fun!
Riley: I can't believe it. I choked.
Willow: You really, really did.
Riley: You don't understand. I'm good at things. That's what I do. I work hard, apply myself, get it done.
Willow: Well, you failed extremely well.
Riley: That's a great comfort to me.
Willow: You're just making contact. Getting a reaction. Any reaction is okay. Except projectile vomiting, but what are the chances of that...?
Spike: I don't understand. This sort of thing's never happened to me before.
Willow: Maybe you were nervous.
Spike: I felt all right when we started. Let's try again. [growls]...Damn it!
Willow: Maybe you're trying too hard. Doesn't this happen to every vampire?
Spike: Not to me, it doesn't!
Willow: It's me, isn't it?
Spike: What are you talking about?
Willow: Well, you came looking for Buffy, then settled. You didn't want to bite me, I just happened to be around.
Spike: Piffle!
Willow: I know I'm not the kind of girl vamps like to sink their teeth into. It's always like, 'Oh, you're like a sister to me,' or, 'Oh, you're such a good friend.'
Spike: Don't be ridiculous. I'd bite you in a hearbeat.
Willow: Really?
Spike: Thought about it.
Willow: When?
Spike: Remember last year? You had on that... fuzzy pink number with the lilac underneath?
Willow: I never would have guessed. You played the blood-lust kinda cool.
Spike: I hate being obvious. All fangy and 'grr!' Takes the mystery out.
Willow: But if you could...
Spike: If I could, yeah.
Willow: You know, this doesn't make you any less terrifying.
Spike: Don't patronize me!
Spike: I'm only 126!
Willow: You're being too hard on yourself. Why don't we wait a half an hour and try again?
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