"Andrew!" yelled Buffy, clicking replay and watching in open-mouthed mortification as, set to music, images of herself and Angel filled the computer screen. Their kisses, the fights, the... Oh, God. Those were private. How had he managed this? Why there? All the Super Bowl slots taken?
"I'll show him 'going down'," she muttered. "Andrew!"
Tripping in, he asked, "First among slayers, how can I—"
"What's this?" She jabbed the screen.
"YouTube?" he squeaked.
"And?" she prompted, teeth gritted.
"White Flag... by Dido?"
"Try again."
"An homage?"
Buffy groaned.
"How'd you know?" he ventured to ask.
"By SlayersNVampyresRTruLuv? Please."
"Oh."