"Spike," Dawn asked. "Could you grab me a frying pan?"
Sitting at the table, taking a swig of the blood he'd just gotten to the right temp, Spike raised one eyebrow at the girl. "And you can't because?"
Pointing to one of the lower cabinets, she said, "It's way down on the floor, and I'd have to kneel."
Spike very carefully placed the mug on the table before rising from his seat with a quick jerk that sent his chair crashing across the room. His fists tightened as he glared at the girl. Her eyes widened, but she put on her I'm-not-afraid-of-you face, jutting her chin forward. Spike turned and fled the kitchen.
Buffy was in the dining room, standing there as if waiting for him, humming something, and Spike didn't recognize it at first, not until she sang "Fall on your knees."
"It's not bloody Christmas," he snarled, pushing his way past her to the living room, shouting "Xander."
"Hey, I'm right here," Xander replied from one of the chairs. Willow and Tara sat next to each other on the couch, a number of pamphlets and books spread out before them, with Willow clickity clacking on her laptop.
"Phobia... You told... Phobia!"
Xander pointed at Willow as if trying to pass the blame. "Willow! Resolve face! You know I can't resist resolve face."
As Tara covered her mouth, but not before Spike saw how her lips had curled up into a tiny smile, Willow stood, holding out one of the pamphlets. "Don't worry, Spike. Phobias are totally treatable. I've, I mean we've," she said, looking down at Tara, "been doing research, and there are a number of different things you can try."
"Hey," Spike shouted. "The teasing is bad enough, but this... this... helping! No, no way. And you," he said, turning on Xander, "are so in the dog house." Grabbing his jacket off the back of Xander's chair, Spike fled into the night.