[She smiles thinly in recognition. It's a familiar feeling. She goes quiet and considers her own circumstances. Her own feelings on killing. She'd be lying if she said she felt no guilt. She felt a lot of guilt, sure. But the actual collission itself, the begging and shock in his eyes, the feeling of plunging a stake into his chest.

It felt the same. The guilt came when she realized. When Buffy realized and saw Faith for what she really was for the first time. But the thrill felt the same, and that's what scared her.]

You won't. End up in that place again, I mean. [She shrugs, trying to be nonchalant.] I'll pull you away from the edge if you need me to.

[It's a serious oath to make, disguised as an offhand remark. She means it too. Come hell or highwater. She'd do the same for Angel.]

I guess I just sort of wonder... Buffy said we were made to kill demons. But our instincts are honed for killing anything. Anyone. I couldn't even tell the difference until... [She frowns, looking down at her lap, suddenly unsure of herself.]

What made you stop?