"I don't know what I think about any of it anymore," Buffy answered honestly, sobering up as she looked down at her hands that were currently clenched tighter than she'd thought they were in her lap. Her purpose seemed so vague now. Right and wrong weren't so defined as she'd thought they were. She still believed that enslaving humanity was wrong, but the guilt of every Supernatural was questionable now. She trusted in Giles, but sometimes it was harder every day.
"Well, if Daniel is dead, than I really don't think you know enough about me and the situation to make a call," Buffy continued after a beat, stubbornly crossing her arms over her chest as she leaned back against the arm of the couch. "I don't even know you well enough to be able to trust talking to you about something so deep and important. It's the kind of things you talk to best friends about, and, since you're not Daniel, you're going to have to get to know me better before I start spilling secrets and feelings. Let me tell you, after the battle you and Ambrose had in this room, Lucius isn't getting off on the right foot." There was something therapeutic about being difficult like this. She narrowed her eyes and extended her hand in mock greeting. "My name's Buffy, Lucius. I hear you killed my best friend."