text @ spike

Buffy: Well they think they’re right, and that they could stop me if I really wanted to. I don’t know though if that’s what they’re up to, it’s just a hunch really.
Buffy: Good.
Spike: And the Army’s involved. Right.
Spike: Too late to quit? Settle in Boca Raton with an umbrella in your drink and call it a job well done?
Buffy: Maybe if the hellmouth was in Boca Raton and the world could actually stay saved for more than half a year.
Spike: Joke, love. That thing where you play pretend. I know you’ve got your sacred duty, Camelot up in sodding flames, one true hero and all that noise. You try and it’s great and we’re all real proud.
Spike: But this isn’t a demon and it isn’t an apocalypse. It’s the arm of the law. Law’s got a long arm.
Buffy: Oh, joke. I forgot about those.
Buffy: I know it’s the law. That’s why I’ve got to do it, everyone knows I’m a slayer. I can’t not. I know I could hide with you, but I don’t want to hide. It’s already hard enough with the whole world looking at me, I don’t think I could take it if the whole world was looking for me too.
Buffy: What do you suggest? I just let someone else go? Put on a glamour and call it a day? I can’t do that. I’m the only one capable of making it out of this relatively unharmed.