Dawn was a centaur. Her sister was a centaur (and a doll?) at some point, and she was near castles in Scotland surrounded by ex-potential Slayers, not on a dance floor in Italy at The Immortal's side. It didn't add up, which meant–

Angel sighed, dropped his head into his hands for a second. He ran his fingers over his face as he lifted his chin back up, his gaze landing back on her.

"Year. What year is it supposed to be for you? Because last I checked, it was circa 2005."

Or it ought to be. He wasn't too clear on how time worked in hell. Last time he was in hell, a century equated to a few months on Earth's dimensional plane.