[She's in much the same boat. She knows there's a lot of work to be done, slayers to hunt down and a watcher's council to rebuild, but here isn't nearly as bad as it could be and for the first time since her sixteenth birthday, Buffy is kind of free. She's not obligated to save the world or even the day because most of the time, there's nothing to save. Things are quiet here, normal here and it just might be the perfect place to make cookies. Yeah, she went there.
She nibbles on her bottom lip, looking up at him and pretending to ponder that a moment. She turns her head, looking up to where his hands circle her wrist, mostly so that she can give him a fantastic view of her neck, stretched out and bare. She looks back up at him and affects a sort of pouting look.]
I might get up. I'm playing possum and baiting you.