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Xander: 33 minutes. Since when do we go through all this trouble for one lousy vampire. Excuse me, one lousy potential vampire.
Buffy: Vampire by vampire. It's the only way I know how.
Dawn: I think this thing has a freakin' child lock on it.
Buffy: Shh!
Dawn: You know, I'm not the shortest one here. I don't know why I had to be in the kid coffin.

Dawn: Well, the whole Willow sitch is not unstressifying.I mean she's here, but not "part of the gang" here and hopefully not "under my feet here in another time dimension" here.
Buffy: There's Willow. There's the looming humongo bad. And it's a school night. I should be home in bed, cuddled up to my insomnia, and worrying about how I'm gonna mess up tomorrow.
Dawn: You'll be fine. You'll be a great counselor.
Buffy: It's my first week actually talking to the kids. What if their problems are all weird and tricky?
Xander: I think you underestimate your familiarity with the world of weird and tricky. This job's perfect for you.

Peter: You know, I hate to miss Bio, but I thought it was best I come speak with you.
Buffy: So, what's on your mind?
Peter: On my mind?
Buffy: Are you worried about school? Uh, friends, girls, your parents?
Peter: Yeah, yeah, that's it. My parents.
Buffy: What about them?
Peter: Oh, issues... of divorce.

Buffy: You know, it's awful... being teased. But the thing is, you know, with bullies like this, they're really just—
Amanda: Insecure? Yeah, everyone says that. You know, I'm really tired of everyone being so insecure.

Buffy: Divorce is terrible. My parents got divorced when I was a kid.
Peter: Yeah, my parents are happily married. It's hard. Uh, I feel... left out. B-but I'm also concerned about girls. OK, I'm just bored. Maybe I should get back to Bio?

Buffy: You have to stick up for yourself, Amanda. You need to show this bully that you're not gonna take any more of his sh—guff. Uh, any guff.
Amanda: 'Cause that's what I did. I stuck up for myself. The other day after class, I jumped him in the parking lot, and I slammed his stupid-ass insecure face right into the pavement.
Buffy: You what?
Amanda: I guess that's another reason Mr. Miller wanted me to see you. Do you think I should pound on him some more?

Xander: I bet she's giving them great advice.
Willow: Absolutely! Those kids are lucky to have Buffy looking out for them. I just wish she believed it. She's still stressing over the whole "dropped out of college, not actually qualified" thing. Plus the salivating hellmouth underneath her feet and the whole—
Xander: From beneath you, it devours. It's not the friendliest jingle, is it? It's no "I like Ike" or "Milk: it does a body good."
Willow: I know. It's gonna be bad. It's gonna be real bad. And I wonder, will I— Well, if it comes— When it comes, will I be able to help?
Xander: I think so.
Willow: I don't know. I don't know what I can do. I mean, frankly, I'm—I'm scared of what I might do.
Xander: Yeah, I get that. Figuring out how to control your magic seems a lot like hammering a nail. Well, uh, hear me out. So you're hammering, right? OK, well at the end of the hammer, you have the power, but no control. It takes, like, two strokes to hit the nail in, or you could hit your thumb.
Willow: Ouch.
Xander: So you choke up. Control, but no power. It could take like ten strokes to knock the nail in. Power, control. It's a tradeoff.
Willow: That's actually not a bad analogy.
Xander: Thanks.
Willow: Except... I'm less worried about hitting my thumb, and more worried about going all black-eyed baddy and bewitching that hammer into cracking my friends' skulls open like coconuts.
Xander: Right. Ouch.
Willow: Sorry. Xander, being back here... I don't know...
Xander: It'll take time.

Buffy: So, Josh, what's on your mind?
Josh: Well, I'm worried that I'm... gay.
Buffy: OK, first of all, I... I think it's great that you would come and talk to me about this. And second of all, you should know that there is nothing shameful about being gay. Nothing.
Josh: I-I know. It's just—I'm not positive, so, uh, I was thinking that... why don't you go on, uh, a date with me so I can be sure.

Buffy: It sounds like it's difficult for you. Like maybe your sister makes it hard for you to establish your own identity. You said she's controlling, she doesn't let you make your own decisions—
Dawn: Yeah, and she borrows my clothes without asking.
Buffy: I understand. That must be hard.

Buffy: I know high school can seem kind of frustrating. But if you just get through it, then you can go to college, you know, or you can join the French Foreign Legion, or anything you want.
Cassie: Yeah, well, I'm not gonna do all that stuff.
Buffy: OK, no Foreign Legion. I get that. I mean all the changing your name, and being indentured for all those years, and occupying Algeria...
Cassie: It's just that I'm not graduating from high school.
Buffy: Why not?
Cassie: I really like that shirt. Where'd you get it?
Buffy: Cassie, don't change the subject. Why won't you graduate?
Cassie: Because next Friday I'm gonna die.

Buffy: Cassie, what makes you feel like this?
Cassie: Feel like what?
Buffy: Like you wanna hurt yourself.
Cassie: Oh, I'm— I'm not gonna commit suicide if—if that's what you're saying. No way.
Buffy: OK then. Then what are you saying?
Cassie: Look, I don't mean to be a pain. You seem really nice, and I know you're just trying to help. But I'm wasting your time.
Buffy: No you're not. This is why I'm here. Cassie, please tell me, why do you think you're gonna die?
Cassie: I don't think it, I know it. I just know.
Buffy: What do you mean, you know? A-are you saying that someone's going to hurt you? Has someone threatened you?
Cassie: No. No, I just know that next Friday I'm gonna die. Some things I just know. I don't know how, I just do. Like I know there will be coins—
Buffy: Coins?
Cassie: Mm-hmm. Lots of coins. Weird ones. And I know that you'll go someplace dark underground. I-I don't know.
Buffy: What do you mean underground?
Cassie: And I know you'll try to help—
Buffy: Cassie, I-I don't understand what you're saying.
Cassie: But you can't, OK? I gotta go. Trig. I don't want Mr. Corrigan sending me Principal Wood again.
Buffy: Cassie, please—
Cassie: Thanks for being so nice. I really do like that shirt. You should put a sweater on so it doesn't get stained. I gotta go.

Principal Wood: Listen, Buffy, it's hard. Kids this age... they're hurting, they're pissed off, and they say things. Sometimes they say awful things. When I was in high school, I had a thing with this guy, right? Real bully. I kept telling everyone that he'd better sleep with one eye open 'cause I was gonna bust his ass. Well, I got suspended. Talk like that is taken pretty seriously where I come from.
Buffy: The hood?
Principal Wood: Beverly Hills... which is a hood. Listen, the point is, I was talking big because I was scared. I couldn't bust a move back in high school, let alone someone's ass. Most of the time, that's what it is when these students act out. Fear, pain—
Buffy: But sometimes, it's not just talk, right?
Principal Wood: Every time there's a threat like this, we do the same dance. Inform teachers, search lockers, but we can't—we can't know what's gonna happen, and we can't search their brains. We just—we just do what we can.
Buffy: It's not enough. I need to fix this. I don't usually get a heads up before somebody dies.
Principal Wood: What do you mean usually?
Buffy: No. No, not since—I mean, I'm sure it's not usual to get a chance to stop something like—I just I need to do something, OK?

Willow: Do you really think this girl is some kind of precog?
Buffy: Oh, I don't know. I told you about the shirt, right?
Xander: Buff, you spilled a cup of coffee. I'm not saying you don't have slayer grace, but it's not the first time.
Willow: I mean maybe, just maybe, you're trying so hard to help that you're seeing paranormal when there's just normal.
Buffy: Maybe. But maybe not.

Willow: Have you googled her yet?
Xander: Willow, she's 17.
Willow: It's a search engine. Look. OK, let's see what "Cassie Newton" pulls up. Hey, look. Check this. She's got her own site.

Buffy: Wow, that's a lot of poems.
Xander: Poems. Always a sign of pretentious inner turmoil.
Willow: The sheets above me
cool my skin
like dirt
on a mad woman's grave
I rise into
the moonlight white
and watch
the mirror stare
Pale fish looks
back at me
Pale fish that will
never swim
My skin is milk
for no man to drink
My thighs unused
This body is
not ready yet
But dirt waits for no
and coins will
buy no time
I hear the chatter
of the bugs. It's they alone
will feast.

Xander: OK, death is really on her brain. Dawn: We all deal with death. Xander: This girl isn't just dealing, she's giving death a long, sloppy word-kiss. She has a yen for the big dirt-nap. Willow: I don't know. I mean, a lot of teens post some pretty angsty poetry on the web. I mean, I even posted a melodramatic love poem or two back in the day. Xander: Love poems? Willow: I'm over you now, sweetie. Xander: Love poems! Willow: Look, all I'm saying is that this is normal teen stuff. You join chat rooms, you write poetry, you post Doogie Howser fan-fic. It's all normal, right? Let's see what other sites there are.

Dawn: Guys, I'm telling you, I'm liking Mike Helgenberg for the perp. Let's collar him before he— lawyers up.

Cassie: It's not him. He's not the one who does it. Thank you for trying, but I probably shouldn't have told you anything. You're making such a big deal out of it, and I want it to all to just go away.
Xander: Are you talking about killing yourself?
Cassie: No, of course not.
Buffy: Then fight. Try.
Cassie: There's no point. I told you—
Buffy: This doesn't sound like someone who really wants to live.
Cassie: You think I want this? You think I don't care? Believe me, I want to...be here, do things. I want to graduate from high school, and I want to go to the stupid winter formal... I have this friend, and it would be fun to go with him. Just to dance and hear lame music to wear a silly dress and laugh and stuff. I'd like to go. There's a lot of stuff I'd like to do. I'd love to ice skate at Rockefeller Center. And I'd love to see my cousins grow up and see how they turn out 'cause they're really mean and I think they're gonna be fat. I'd love to backpack across the country or, I don't know, fall in love, but I won't. I just never will.
Buffy: You will. Cassie, you will. You just have to tell us what you know. You have to tell us everything. Please, help us.
Cassie: I can't. I just know it's gonna happen. I don't know why and I don't know how, but something out there is gonna kill me.

Buffy: Is there something evil in the school? Down here, maybe. Spike, please, do you know anything?
Spike: Yes. There's evil. Down here. Right here. I'm a bad man. William is a baaad man. I hurt the girl.
Buffy: Spike, stop it! What did you do?
Spike: I hurt you, Buffy, and I will pay. I am paying because I hurt the girl.
Buffy: Spike. No. It's not me. It's a different girl, OK? Her name is Cassie Newton. Please, do you know anything specific?
Spike: Don't—don't leave me. Stay here, and help me be quiet.
Buffy: I think it's worse when I'm here.
Spike: Don't let him hurt the girl.

Mike: Yeah, sometimes I jus— That's funny. You're Dawn's sister, right?
Buffy: Uh, that's right. Dawn is my sister.
Mike: Oh, that's so weird. I was just thinking about her. Yeah, I was thinking if, you know, Cassie won't budge, maybe I'll ask Dawn.
Buffy: You aren't mad at Cassie, with her rejecting you like that?
Mike: Nah, she's a girl right? Making boys crazy is like your job description.
Buffy: You're asking my sister to the dance, and she's your second choice?

Cassie: Buffy told you about me, right? She told you to pretend to be my friend?
Dawn: No. Maybe. Cassie, she was scared. She wanted to help you.
Cassie: Well, she can't.
Dawn: Maybe she can. She's not like you think. She's got powers... of helping. And look, she was worried and now I'm worried and I wasn't pretending at all. I really wanted to be your friend.
Cassie: You are my friend.
Dawn: I am?
Cassie: Yeah. Just remember, I'm not as dumb as I look.
Dawn: I'm glad.

Dawn: Uh... Uh, what's up, Peter?
Peter: I was just wondering if anyone had asked you to winter formal.
Dawn: What? Oh, uh, no. not exactly.
Peter: Well, uh, I was just doing a poll. I'll see you.
Dawn: That guy is such an ass.

Buffy: Do you know how lame this is? Bored teenage boys trying to raise up a demon. Sorry it didn't show. I bet it's 'cause you forgot the boom box playing some heavy metal thing, like Blue Clam Cult. I think that's the key to the raising of lame demons.
Peter: That lame demon?

Peter: Help! Help me, please! I'm bleeding.
Buffy: Sorry. My office hours are 10 to 4.

Buffy: See? You can make a difference.
Cassie: And you will.

Willow: How is her mom?
Buffy: OK. As OK as... she told me that her family had a history of heart irregularities, but she never told Cassie.
Willow: Cassie didn't know? Then it was fate?
Xander: I think she was gonna die, no matter what, wasn't she. Didn't matter what you did.
Buffy: She just knew. She was special. I failed her.
Dawn: Uh-uh. No. You didn't, 'cause you tried. You listened, and you tried. She died 'cause of her heart, not 'cause of you. She was my friend because of you. I guess sometimes you can't help.
Buffy: So what then? What do you do when you know that? When you know that maybe you can't help?

The Usual
The Usual

Random Quotage:

Well, she practically had 'Genuine Molded Plastic' stamped on her ass. Just... tryin' a little spicy talk.
-Tara (I Was Made to Love You)

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