If she hadn't seen for herself how strategic Spike could be, she'd laugh at the idea he could make calculated decisions in who he turned. But she's caught a glimpse in how he operates, and she knows it's exactly something he'd do. And all the vampires he turned, whether or not they had the same idea to sire people with a little more common sense and smarts, would just sire more.

Like bunnies. Only evil and way less cute.

"Remind me next time I see him, if we ever see him ─ and I seriously hope we never do, skip the banter and just go right to killing him. Something I should have done when I had the chance." There's no humor in her tone. Not when the reality and the weight of her (wrong) choice comes in the form of the body count. All of which Angel had to deal with.

"I'm sorry you had to─" She breaks off, tilting her head up at him, "How enthusiastic are we talking?" It's a light tease, her shoulder coming to bump his just before she twists her hand in his, entwining their fingers but still keeping her arm looped through his. "Is it weird that I'm bummed I wasn't here to help?" Help? Sure, Buffy. She means that she wasn't here to watch him. Because the way he feels when watching her hunt, and fight, is the same way she does when he fights. That thrill of seeing him in his element and not holding back as he works up a sweat ─ or the vampire equivalent of a sweat ─ whatever that is, is intoxicating. Even just thinking about it has her tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, ducking her head slightly and laying it against his shoulder in hopes of hiding the flush in her cheeks.

"I also feel bad you were here covering for me and my responsibilities, while I did nothing remotely the same."