Despite it being her own unspoken suggestion, Buffy now warred with herself over taking a seat. Obviously, she felt more powerful on her feet. A little taller, even, given that Spike was now seated. But at problem solved she felt that horrible seizing sensation in her knees and she quickly -- mechanically -- took the chair across the table from him.

"Killed him. Of course. Once. About, oh, a few months after I got here. Apparently that's one way to make a name for yourself. But..."

Her well-manicured fingernails tapped the table-top. "If you've heard about that then you've obviously already heard about the one week return policy on the dead. Me and him tangoed again, last draft. He was...much stronger."