Heh. Imagine Spike trying to sneak that into the Flaming Hands moment:

SPIKE: Gotta move, lamb. I think it's fair to say, school's out for bloody summer.
BUFFY: Spike...
SPIKE: I mean it, I gotta do this. I made a promise to your mum.
BUFFY: My... what? When? How?
SPIKE: About six years ago. Don't you remember? She hit me with an axe, "Get the hell away from my daughter!"
BUFFY: Uh, kinda burning my hand here.
SPIKE: So, well, here I am. Getting it done.
BUFFY: What?
SPIKE: Well, I am bringing down the hellmouth.
BUFFY: Which is why I need to tell you - Wait. You're saying...
SPIKE: That's right.
BUFFY: ...the last few years have been a cunning plan on your part to literally get the Hell away from me?
SPIKE: And your daughters.
BUFFY: [checks her hair with her free hand] My...? I don't -
SPIKE: Metaphorically speaking. The Slayerlings.
BUFFY: Whatever. Spike, I love y-
SPIKE: Your mum had a hell of a commanding voice. No wonder your room is always so neat.
BUFFY: Would you stop talking about my mom!
SPIKE: But this time it's up to me to do the clean-up. It's what she would have wanted.
BUFFY: I'm trying to tell you - OW! Son of a bitch!
SPIKE: Language!
BUFFY: My. Hand. Caught. Fire.
SPIKE: That's no reason to use that kind of language. You need to set an example for your daughters.
BUFFY: They're not my - forget it. Isn't there something you want to tell me?
SPIKE: Buffy?
BUFFY: Yes?
SPIKE: Do you think Joyce will be waiting for me with a cup of cocoa in heaven?
BUFFY: Fine. Whatever. Yes, I'm sure she will. I'm out of here. [leaves]
SPIKE: Thanks for saying it!