, , ,

Fire bad Tree prettyGiles: “Are you all right?”
Buffy: “I’m tired.”
Giles: “I should imagine so. It’s been quite a couple of days.”
Buffy: “I haven’t processed everything yet. My brain isn’t really functioning on the higher levels. It’s pretty much: fire bad; tree pretty.”
Giles: “Understandable. Well, when it’s working again congratulate it on a good campaign. You did very well.”
Buffy: “Thank you. I will.”
Giles: “I ah… I managed to ferret this out of the wreckage. Now, it may not interest you, but… (reaches into his jacket and pulls out a high school diploma) I’d say you earned it.”
Giles: “There is a certain dramatic irony that’s attached to all this. A synchronicity that borders on… on predestination, one might say.”
Buffy: “Fire bad; tree pretty.’
Giles: “Yes, sorry. I’m going to see to Wesley, see if he’s… is still… whimpering.”