"All that sorrow," she said, very softly, imagining the mess that Wesley could potentially make. It thrilled her, but not as much as it should have. "All that mess. The city would burn with it."

And Wesley would burn with it, sacrificing himself to heal wounds he hadn't intended to cause.

"Cordelia won't be able to hunt," she added, suddenly. Because it mattered. Because she couldn't make a mess and blame it on Drusilla. "She'll still have the wires in her head."