He could hear the blood rush, under her skin, and the movement of it told him that she liked the look of him, which was brilliant. This was good. The crush factor could certainly be exploited.
The demon part of him would always be the strongest, since it had existed the longest. That part could see Dawn for what she was: greenish energy fashioned to look, talk and act like a girl, but energy nonetheless.
He'd heard about the events in Sunnydale, the tower and the Hell God. He smiled again as he took his coffee from the kid in the hat behind the register. Glorificus was a child compared to him. Then again, her dimension was not this one, and that was the entire point. He respected and liked her work, but she'd been sloppy with things. Far too sloppy.
He paused at the register and asked for a second cup of coffee. This was for Dawn, because he knew--without even reading her mind--she was thinking about another. She looked disappointed with the cup she had; it must've gone cold.
Once he had both, he strode over to her table and held one out to her.