"Don't pretend you weren't itching for a fight. I'm not an idiot. All I'm saying is that he wouldn't have thrown the first if you hadn't," she said. "I don't need protecting. I'm supposed to be the protection." She tried her hardest to sound confident in that statement, but the truth of it was that she just wasn't sure anymore.
"But you sound like him sometimes. And not just because of vocal range," Buffy answered him, less angry when she thought she might've seen a glint of something from him that reminded her of the friend he insisted she'd lost. "It wouldn't matter if you'd been bitten or turned either, cause you still would be you. Just slightly fangier or fuzzier." Her shoulders slumped slightly, the only visible sign that she was too tired from the night's events to be terribly witty.