James Marsters: Spike

Get It Done

Spike

Spike: And just what brings our good principal to this neck of the gloom?
Buffy Summers: I'm showing him our operation. Us.
Spike: Fine by me. Big fight against evil comin' up. The more good guys we've got, the longer we'll all live.
Principal Robin Wood: Is that what you are? A good guy?
Spike: I haven't heard any complaints. Well, I have heard a few complaints over the years, but then I just killed whoever spoke up, and that was pretty much that.
Buffy Summers: He's joking.
Principal Robin Wood: No, he's not.
Spike: No, I'm not.

Spike: Anya, *think*. I fight, demon boy gets lucky, I get knocked out, you get killed. True...? We both know the safest and sanest way of saving your life was to keep you with me, away from danger.
Anya: Oh.
[starts leaving]
Spike: No need to thank me. I'm just the one who beat him off...
[to Buffy]
Spike: "Repelled him" would perhaps be the better phrase.

Buffy Summers: Force yourself to do what can't be done or else we are not an army. We're just a bunch of girls waiting to be picked off and buried.
[Spike starts to leave]
Buffy Summers: Where are you going?
Spike: Out. Since I'm neither a girl nor waiting, all this speechifying doesn't really apply to me, does it?
Buffy Summers: Fine. Take a cell phone. That way, if I need someone to get weepy or wailed on, then I can call you.

Spike: Get out of here, all of you. Unless you want to end up all dead and useless.
Kennedy: What are you gonna do?
Spike: What I do best.

Anya: I mean, it's like we live in Slayer Central. I swear, i-if Buffy rooms or boards one more of the Potential girls, I'm gonna call a... I'm gonna call a health inspector.
Spike: I like my plan better. Get up, get out, get drunk. Repeat as needed. It's just more elegant.

Spike: I don't know your feelings, big guy... but to me, a tussle like that... is good for the soul.

Anya: I'm a bright girl. Good education. Quick on the uptake. So tell me. Why in the name of almighty Grothnar would I let myself become human again?
Spike: You're really talkin' to the wrong fellow.

Spike: The demon's mine.
Kennedy: I hate to say it, Big Bad, but you look like you can barely stand. We're trained. And the only thing we know for sure about this demon is it kicked your ass.
Spike: It did at that.