"Oh God, all the time," Buffy nodded. She shifted a little, scooting impossibly closer to Danny and turning, pulling her feet in and sticking them between his legs, her toes underneath his leg. She rested her cheek against his chest and switched to absently tracing shapes on his chest with her finger. "There are days I want my Mommy so bad it makes me almost cry. I want her Chicken and Stars soup and I want to crawl in her lap and be her little girl for just a little while. Giles does okay but he'd never let me crawl in his lap and he gets all throat clear-y if I hug him for more than five seconds. Sometimes though I'll go in his office and plop down in his chair and tell him to lie to me. He does. He tells me that good guys wear white, bad guys wear black, good always wins and everyone lives happily ever after. We have a cup of tea and I go back to my room and know he's lying but for a little while I got to believe the lie."

She pulled back slightly and looked up at Danny. "Do you?"