She turned to watch him, eyes only for him. Her face was like an open book, and when he said trust there was a flicker of hope and more than just a flicker of doubt. She'd trusted before, often, and most often that trust had been repaid. Her friends, her family...but it hadn't been enough. In the very end the only one she could really trust was herself. She was the Slayer, and it always came down to Buffy.
She cleared her throat. "I'm Buffy," she said. There was some effort in forming the words, and some pride. But the next moment that sense of completeness wavered. Where was she? And if she was Buffy, why couldn't she find her own way back?