Buffy just noticed his hand about to fall on her shoulder, eyeing him warily before he let it fall, and that awkward silence ensued. She looked down at her hands clasped tightly in her lap and then back out the window of the car. She took again to committing her surroundings to memory, probably to distract herself.
"I'll get used to it," she answered him, her lips set in a thin line. "A punching bag might help, though."