SPIKE (girl): How can I thank you, you mysterious, black-clad hunk of a night thing?
SPIKE (Angel): No need, little lady, your tears of gratitude are enough for me. You see, I was once bad - ass vampire, but love and a pesky curse defanged me. Now I’m just a big, fluffy puppy with bad teeth.
SPIKE (Angel): No, not the hair! Never the hair!
SPIKE (girl): But there must be some way I can show my appreciation.
SPIKE (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!
SPIKE (girl): I understand. I have a nephew who ‘s gay, so…
SPIKE (Angel): Say no more. Evil’s still afoot! And I’m almost out of that Nancy-boy hair-gel that I like so much. Quickly, to the Angel-mobile, away!
 
SPIKE: Go on with you. Play the big, strapping hero while you can. You have a few surprises coming your way. The ring of Amarra  a visit from your old pal Spike, and, oh yeah, your gruesome, horrible death.

DOYLE: All I’m saying is that if we’re ever going to take that cruise to the Bahamas together, we’re going to need a lot more clients of means.
CORDY: And an alternate reality in which you are Matthew McConaughey.

OZ: Hello, LA.
CORDY: Oz? Oh, my god. Oz. I’m so happy to see you. Good old Oz! Oz. Oz!
DOYLE: Let me just take a stab at it, you’d be Oz?
OZ: Good guess.
CORDY: This is so cool! I mean, here you are in LA, and you’re the total embodiment of all things Sunnydale.
OZ: It’s a burden, but I manage.
CORDY: We have some serious catching up to do. How is everything? How’s …how’s the bronze?
OZ: The same.
CORDY: And the gang?
OZ: They’re good.
CORDY: Good?  Good! Good.
OZ: We done?
CORDY: Completely.

DOYLE: He’s the detective.
OZ: Does he have a hat and gun?
CORDY: Just fangs.
OZ: Well, that works.

OZ: Hey.
ANGEL: Nice surprise.
OZ: Thanks.
ANGEL: Staying long?
OZ: Few days.
DOYLE: Are they always like this?
OZ: No, we’re usually laconic.

CORDY: Hey, Buffy. How is good old Buffy anyway?
OZ: She is…
CORDY: What? Still the brave little Slayer or is she moping around in the dark like  … like nobody around here. Hmm…mm.

DOYLE: Poolside tanning, bargain matinees, plus several strip clubs that have a fabulous luncheon buffet that’s quite tasty…I’ve heard.

CORDY: And she didn’t even send a note? Wow. That’s really …this is one of those times when I should just shy away from the topic, isn’t it?

DOYLE: But I’m still going to celebrate with a drink down at the pub.
CORDY to Oz: He’d celebrate the opening of a mailbox with a drink at the pub.

CORDY: Think the trick is laying of the ale before you start quoting Angela’s Ashes and weeping like a baby man.
DOYLE: Hey that’s a good book.
CORDY: So I’ve heard. But I doubt that the main characters are Betty and Barney Rubble as you so vehemently insisted last night. Also I don’t think Oz appreciated being called my little Bam-bam all night.

SPIKE: Why? Because you are vampire detective now? What’s next? Vampire cowboy? Vampire fireman? Oh, vampire ballerina.

SPIKE to Cordélia: You look smashing. Did you lose weight?
CORDY: Yes, there is this great gym on …hey!

CORDY: Frankie Tripod? Oh, I get it. Some kind of three-legged monster, right?
DOYLE: No, he’s human.
CORDY: Then what’s his name supposed to… Oh…

SPIKE: You’ll find he is rather shy. Except with kids. (To Marcus) You like kids don’t you Marcus?  Well, likes to eat. and other nasty things.

SPIKE: Souls, fingers, toes… Let’s get chopping, shall you?

MARCUS: What do you want, Angel?
ANGEL: Are you gonna to torture me, or just bore me to death?
MARCUS: Probably a little of both.
SPIKE: Someone’s having shish kebab.

SPIKE: What do you want Angel?
ANGEL: A house in the country, a pair of good running shoes that you can also wear out to dinner.

ANGEL: You’re an idiot, Spike.
SPIKE: You think? Because I’m not the one chained to the ceiling with hot pokers in my side.

SPIKE: Its called addiction, Angel. We all have it. I believe yours is named Slutty the vampire Slayer. Speaking of little Buff, I ran into her recently. Your name didn’t come up. Although she has been awful busy jumping the bones of the first lunk-head that came along. Good-looking fellow used her shamelessly.  She is cute when she is hurting, isn’t she?
ANGEL: I think she’s cuter when she’s kicking your ass.

DYLE: Right, by giving Spike exactly what he wants so he can kill us.
CORDY: Right! No, we need a plan.

 ANGEL: I mean, one more hot poker and I was giving him the ring, your mom, everything.  How is your mom?