She was trying not to laugh, he really really needed to insist on a moratorium on Slayers laughing at him. Buffy had started it. Unsuprisingly. "No he wasn't evil. Though I could have done with less of the showtunes sometimes, he does have a pretty extensive repitoire and a good voice I have to admit"
Guys like him, he doubted it. He hadn't so much been a Cassanova as a reasonably handsome boy from a good family. And there had been the kind of women that frequented the pubs he'd so loved.
"A woman. Isn't it always. Name of Darla, she was my sire"
Thoughts of Darla were painful now, everything in the last few years, finding her only to loose her again, also thanks to Lindsey. And she'd borne him a son. He missed Connor terribly, just like he missed her, and Cordelia, and Wes, and Gunn though thinking about him was painful too.
"Seriously" he told her about the poetry glad of a chance to move off topic "Really bad poetry too. Overuse of the word effulgent"