[ Okay, see, Myri's concern? Sweet and cute. Spike's concern? Creepy, overbearing with a side of possessive. Buffy shoots Spike a glare of indignation because GOTDAMN SHE CAN TAKE CARE OF HERSELF AND DEFEND HERSELF AND YOU CAN JUST SHUT UP, but when Myri speaks up, she turns toward her and smiles, resting a hand on her shoulder. ] It's okay. Like he said, no backseat. Besides, someone's gotta direct him. [ She lowers her hand, sighing exaggeratedly. ] Fine. Let's just get this over with? Because if you find time to call me a priss again, I might just throttle you.