Tasty Mystery Baskets of Clips

Cos she was trying to protect me.

Buffy, this thing knows us. It made us think that we were talking to people we knew.

That computer's a moron.

- Why not? - Pain chip, remember? He can't hurt anyone.

I take him, you take her. Or the other way around. Whatever.

- Oh, right. Now you like the haircut. - Love it.

She was here, and she spoke to me.

OK, let's look at this objectively.

Actually, I need some help. I'm looking for this guy.

- Oh, God. And it started with Dawn? - Both of us.

It burns. But you can't admit it, so you trump up some charge that I'm back on the juice.

But that's all it is, is time. Cos God help me, Buffy, it's still all about you.

But believe me, I'm going for a big finish.

But if I'm wrong and he is...

Call Buffy and just let her know that he's on the move. You're gonna be fine.

Oh, come on. I've just explained...

You'd rather I slip into something more comfortable.

- How can you be sure of... - No! You are wrong.

He said you would do it.

You shouldn't have done that.

Why is it doing this to me?

Whoa, whoa, whoa. When you say "we" you mean me. Me's gotta go to work.

- Did you kill her? - What?

You lose, mate.

Buffy, it's OK. She's OK. Not hurt.

cos we're a couple of carpet fibres away from a case.