Faith glanced at him. "You're kind of evil isn't my kind of evil," she said, shaking her head. Reading? Faith didn't have time to read when she was too busy applying thick mascara around her eyes and listening to the Mayor poison her mind. She didn't particularly think the Mayor was poisoning her, but she was definitely a pawn on his chessboard.

She just didn't have time for reading. There was an apocalypse on the horizon, and the big saviour of the world was too busy trying to find the right books for these kids to immerse themselves in. Who cared about the big bads or the old legends? That stuff wasn't important. Defense was.

It was clear to her that Spike wasn't going to follow her rant. Perhaps his head had been lodged way too far up Buffy's pasty ass to really take note of a comrade bitching. She then nudged him, pointedly looking at the cigarette between his fingers.