Hmph. Now there was a familiar side of Buffy Summers that I recalled very clearly from my stint as her Watcher, and it wasn't with a great deal of nostalgia-- her stubborn streak. She had all the tenaciousness of the terrier Father had let me have for a grand total of three months when I was a boy.
There were many times where that tenaciousness served her well and had laid low many a powerful enemy. Unfortunately, there were also times when it was damn annoying.
Dinner was served, eaten and cleared away in relative silence, as I think we were both more than preoccupied with our own confused thoughts regarding each other. At least I was confused, and thoroughly, though Buffy's own words did seem to imply that she was in the same state.
I had no better idea than she as to what was going on between us, and for once in my life, the last thing I wanted to do was analyze the situation to death. I didn't know why I was so willing to let things progress as they would, but that was how I felt.
I glanced up from table now empty save for two half-full wine glasses over to where the robot still lay sprawled on the floor and then up to Buffy.
((Open to Buffy.))