“I’m assuming those are Daimons. (Susan)No, they’re Avon ladies. (Ravyn)”

“You know the legend. Stab them in the heart and they’ll die. (Ravyn)Call me Buffy. I’m even blond, but don’t ask me to wear a halter top. Or corset. (Susan)”

“And if I don’t want you to? (Ravyn)You know, you’d look really weird in a dress and high heels. (Susan)What’s that supposed to mean? (Ravyn)It means you’re not my mother. Now stop arguing and help me find my shoes. (Susan)”

“I can’t believe I’m mated to someone who’s allergic to me. (Ravyn)You? I’m the one who should be having a hissy. How do I introduce you to people? Hi, this is my…what? Significant other? Mate? Pet? (Susan)”

“I mumble hocus-pocus and the next thing you know, I’m a cat. (Ravyn)I suppose it’s a step up. The last guy I had in my house could only turn into a beer-drinking pig. (Susan)”

“I know it’s a bit nosy– (Susan)A reporter being nosy? Damn, there’s something you never see. (Ravyn)”