“Best I'd ever had.”
Xander neither knows nor cares what beer might do to healing eye sockets, nor what happened the night before the night before the end of the world to break Spike’s soulful new alcohol taboo.
“I told her, too. Shouldn’t’ve, but I did.”
However, he’s beyond bored with the semi-drunken conquest epic.
“I said, ‘Only thing better than killing a Slayer is--’”
“I did it first,” Xander says.
A wobbly pause. “You did what?”
“Faith.” A manly giggle squeaks out. “I slept with Faith. I had a Slayer before you did.”
Squinting, unfocused blue. “Did not.”