Dawn Summers: What's up?
Xander: Uh, I'm just thinking about the girls. It's a harsh gig, being a potential. Just being picked out of a crowd. Danger, destiny. Plus if you act now, death.
Dawn Summers: They can handle it.
Xander: Yeah. They're special, no doubt. And the amazing thing is, not one of 'em will ever know. Not even Buffy.
Dawn Summers: Know what?
Xander: How much harder it is for the rest of us.
Dawn Summers: No way. They've got...
Xander: Seven years, Dawn. Working with the Slayer. Seeing my friends get more and more powerful. A witch. A demon. Hell, I could fit Oz in my shaving kit, but, come a full moon, he had a wolfy mojo not to be messed with. Powerful. All of them. And I'm the guy who fixes the windows.
Dawn Summers: Well. You had that sexy army training for a while, and the windows really did need fixing.
Xander: I saw what you did last night.
Dawn Summers: Yeah, I... I guess I kinda lost my head when I thought I was the Slayer.
Xander: You thought you were all special. Miss Sunnydale 2003. And the minute you found out you weren't, you handed the crown to Amanda without a moment's pause. You gave her your power.
Dawn Summers: The power wasn't mine.
Xander: They'll never know how tough it is, Dawnie. To be the one who isn't chosen. To live so near to the spotlight and never step in it. But I know. I see more than anybody realises because nobody's watching me. I saw you last night. I see you working here today. You're not special. You're extraordinary.
[kisses her forehead and starts to leave]
Dawn Summers: Maybe that's your power.
Xander: [turns around] What?
Dawn Summers: Seeing. Knowing.
Xander: [snorts] Maybe it is. Maybe I should get a cape.
Dawn Summers: Cape is good.
[Xander smiles briefly before walking out of the room, leaving Dawn thoughtful]
Molly: Where'd you live?
Spike: What, you mean before? A crypt, actually, but nicer. A bit more - I don't know if posh is the right word, but it was more like...
Kennedy: Excuse me? When did you find it comfy?
Xander: Wait, the seers couldn't find out her name or, like, her address or anything? Am I getting the definition of seer wrong?
Xander: Oh, good God, what is that smell?
Anya: Um, fairly sure that's the smell of a hardboiled egg being thrown into a fire.
Willow Rosenberg: The smell will lead us to the Potential.
Xander: Or some poor soul who ate too many chimichangas.
[worried about the blind servants of The First Evil]
Dawn Summers: What if they saw the spell?
Xander: Saw the spell? Dawn, they can't see flashcards. Big ones.
Dawn Summers: See, that's why we don't point the weapons in the kitchen.
Vi: It's not loaded.
Dawn Summers: That's always the lead quote under the headline, "Household Crossbow Accident Claims Teen."
Vi: Do they card?
Buffy: Nope. Go ahead. Down all the yak urine shots or pig's blood spritzers you like.
[Buffy and Spike smirk at each other]
[Buffy has just walked in on a very loud argument]
Buffy: I was only gone a couple of hours.
Willow Rosenberg: Buffy.
Buffy: Hey, everybody, look. It's Willow. Perhaps with a blunt weapon of some sort.
[the Slayers-In-Training are looking at weapons]
Rona: Gotta go with the stake. It's classic. I like the feel of wood in my hand.
Kennedy: Lost me there.
Spike: Nice job of blending in, girls.
Rona: We're a bunch of 15-year-olds in a demon bar. How much blending did you think we were gonna do?
Willow Rosenberg: I got my tumbleweed, my eggs. Got my chrysalises... chrysali?
[Dawn shakes head and hands, like 'I don't know.']
Willow Rosenberg: My butterfly transformer pods.
Xander: They'll never know how tough it is, Dawnie, to be the one who isn't chosen. To live so near to the spotlight and never step in it. But I know. I see more than anybody realizes because nobody's watching me. I saw you last night. I see you working here today. You're not special. You're extraordinary.
Andrew Wells: What's going on?
Anya: Dawn's gonna be a Slayer.
Andrew Wells: Holy crap! Excuse me. Plucked from an ordinary life, handed a destiny.
Xander: Say "Skywalker" and I smack ya.