The smell reminded her of Spike. He was the only one she knew that smoked. She was hit with a sudden bout of homesickness, although Spike was here, in York. She wished she was with him, instead, but that would be rather... complicated, given the circumstances.
"You think I'm much too old for you?"
If it was physically possible for someone's eyes to pop out of their heads, Wil-e Coyole-style, Dawn's would have done it. As it was, she had trouble keeping her jaw from crashing to the ground, all bad cartoon metaphors that were her only reference for this sort of conversation. This was crazy. At least she was armed.
"Well, yeah, and also we just met - I mean, you could be a serial killer or a hoarder." She laughed to mask the fact that she wasn't really kidding - that in her life, this could very well be a reality.