...Buffy looked up from a particularly vexing sudoku puzzle, slotting the pencil behind her ear and pushing up from the counter. She'd been leaning forward against its edges and she found her arms felt a little dead. The Slayer rubbed life back into her joints.
"Isn't that what kids are supposed to do? Bring home strays?" Her eyes were a-glow with scepticism.
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"Isn't that what kids are supposed to do? Bring home strays?" Her eyes were a-glow with scepticism.