Buffy shrugged at his question. The tightened hold actually made her ribs ache a little but she wasn't about to ask him to ease up or show any sign of pain. She wanted to be held this tight.

"It was alright. I got stupid and cocky and got tagged a few times. I'm used to being the best in the room so I got my ego taken down a peg or two."

She wanted so bad to tell him how horrible it was, how her scythe sliced through people and how when they were dead they looked so...fragile and broken and human. She wanted to tell him about the little kids and the teenage girls and how she knew there were mothers somewhere missing their children or husbands missing wives or children missing parents and now they'd never, ever be reunited and she knew it wasn't her fault they'd been taken but that didn't make it any easier to kill them. She wanted to tell him how she felt dirty, so dirty the shower would never, ever get her clean. She wanted to beg him to tell her she wasn't like the people he chased and most of all she wanted him to forgive her and love her in spite of all the things she'd done in the name of saving the world. She couldn't though. Instead she could only tell him things were alright and everything had gone okay and let her body language ask for all the things she couldn't say.