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They Say Breaking Up is Hard to Do

Despite the fact that her head was held high and she looked like she had all the confidence in the world, Buffy was trembling. When she'd called Lindsey and told her what their plans were going to be, he'd seemed surprised at first, followed by amused and then put off. It was eerie. He definitely did not sound like a man that was used to being told what to do.

Angel had promised he'd be there keeping an eye on things, but out of the
way so that Lindsey didn't suspect anything, and of course, there was
Spike. It wasn't just that Buffy was concerned for Spike, but she was
concerned for Angel as well. She was just MORE afraid for Spike. It was difficult. All she knew was that she felt the instinct to protect and protect she would.

As soon as she stepped inside the dark restaurant with the bar in the back, Lindsey popped out of the shadows. Buffy let out an unladylike shriek and reared back.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you," he said apologetically.

"Yeah, right," she muttered.

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, uh, let's get a table."

"Sure thing," he reached out, placing a hand on the small of her back and
ushering her forward to the hostess.

"Table for two please," Lindsey said kindly.

Buffy's eyes darted around the room, looking for Angel and Spike. They'd
apparently done a good job at hiding themselves, because she didn't see
them anywhere. Nearly tripping over Lindsey as she followed him to the
table, he frowned at her.

"What's gotten in to you?" he asked as they sat.

"What do you mean?"

"You're . . . tense and twitchy. And what was with making me cancel my
plans tonight?"

"You just cut right to the chase don't you?"

He shrugged, "is there any reason not to? I'm a lawyer, it's what I do. Get
to the bottom of things."

She studied him, a million thoughts running rampant in her mind. She
decided to nail down one. The one that wanted to ask him questions about
their relationship. If he could ask questions and be direct, well then so could
she.

"What was I like before?"

He gave her a funny look. "What?"

"What was I like before? Am I the same or am I different?"

"Different."

She rolled her eyes. "Did you want to elaborate on that?"

"What's the point? You don't remember and it only upsets you."

"Because I'm asking now and I want to know," she said with some
authority.

He quirked an eyebrow at her, "I don't know that I like being ‘ordered'."

"Well, that makes two of us. I didn't like being ordered to have dinner at
your house after my first day at work, and I didn't like being ordered to
come out with you tonight."

Lindsey smiled the kind of smile an adult gives a child when humoring
them. "So that's what this," he gestured about the room, "Is all about."

"What do you mean?"

"Planning our night out."

"Did you often make the plans for us?"

He looked down at his menu. "Never really thought about it I guess," he
mumbled.

"There really isn't anything to think about. You either did or didn't."

His head snapped up and Buffy held her breath, fear coiling in her stomach.
‘That's not something you do. No backtalk!' the voice inside her head
screamed. Where was this sudden boldness coming from? And the anger
she was feeling as she asked and he dodged. When he asked though, it was
supposed to be all laid bare for him. Perhaps knowing they were in a
crowded restaurant and she would definitely not be going anywhere with
him had something to do with her boldness.

He set her with a penetrating gaze. "We made plans together."

Yeah right, she thought.

"Am I different?" she asked again.

"Yes," he answered through gritted teeth. "You're petulant." Then his gaze
softened and he shook his head. He took a deep breath and reached across
the table, taking her hands in his. "Buffy, let's not argue. Why don't we go
somewhere else hmm?"

"But I'm NOT arguing Lindsey. I'm asking questions and you're getting
upset with me for asking them," she took her hands back and placed them
at her sides.

He looked away, and she could see his jaw clenching. He turned back. "Let's
go somewhere else, okay?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't want to."

"Buffy, listen to reason. It's crowded and busy and . . . dark. Let's go
someplace nice and elegant—"

"I don't want to. I like that its busy and crowded and dark."

"Why?" he asked incredulously.

"It kind of makes breaking up with you easier."

Silence fell between them. Lindsey stared at her so hard and for so long
without moving, Buffy would have thought he'd have stopped breathing.
She also realized that she was gripping her seat tightly. She forced herself
to relax but to no avail. Her hands were starting to ache from how tightly
she held onto that chair.

"You're upset with me, but you don't mean that," he finally said.
She blinked. "What? I do mean it. I said it and I mean it."

"Stop being silly Buffy."

"Stop treating me like a child!" she exclaimed loudly enough to stop the
chatter for a minute around them.

Blushing she lowered her head.

"That was very much like a child wasn't it?" he stated.

She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his. "It's over."

He shook his head. "No, you're not thinking clearly," and he lifted his menu.


"Ok fine then. Let's play your game Lindsey. Let's say I am being a silly,
petulant child. Wouldn't you rather be free to find someone that wasn't?"

He met her eyes again, "I only want you Buffy."

"You don't have me Lindsey. You can't have me any longer."

"Why are you doing this?" he asked quietly, a slight whine to his voice.

She took a deep breath. "Because I don't love you."

His eyes narrowed, "Is there someone else?"

The cold menace in his eyes made her shiver. "No," she lied with
conviction.

Silence again. Eerie silence.

"You're right," he said easily, coldly, "I don't want a silly petulant
child." "Then you accept it."

"Yes and I think you should leave."

Her eyes bugged, "What?"

"I'm going to stay and have my dinner. I think you should leave."

"Are you being serious right now?" she asked in disbelief.

"Very."

"You don't like it here!" she exclaimed again.

"I choose to stay anyway now that I'm here. If you're so anxious to be rid
of me, then you should be happy. You're free. Now you can find someone
else to handle your temper tantrums and your inability to commit."

"You are unbelievable," she said in disbelief.

"Good bye Buffy."

"You arrogant prick."

"Tsk, tsk. Such language. Remember yourself Buffy."

She stood on shaky legs. "You are worthless slime, you know that?"

He shrugged, "Good bye Buffy."

Not even able to comprehend exactly what was happening, Buffy walked in
a daze to the door, hoping Spike and Angel weren't found out when they
exited. She stood outside, staring across the street at nothing in particular,
trying to understand what had just happened. HE was supposed to leave
not her! That was supposed to have been quick and easy not . . . with HER
leaving and being made to feel as if she were an inch tall by doing so.
Something told her that wasn't the first time something like that had
happened. She peered into the window and found the waitress patting his
back with a sympathetic look on her face. It was all a ploy to make her look
like the bad guy. He got the sympathy and she looked like the bitch. He'd
humiliated her. Shaking, Buffy strode over to the bench on the sidewalk to
wait for Spike and Angel to appear.

She didn't have to wait long for a second later they came rushing out. She
stood and waved them over. Spike, in front, reached her first and
enveloped her in a hug.

"What happened? Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. Felt like an idiot being made to leave, but fine," she huffed as she
released him.

"He made you leave?" Angel asked, his brow crinkling in confusion.

"Yes. I figured it out though. He wanted me to look like the asshole."

"Well, you did just break up with him. In most circles, that does make you
the asshole," Angel pointed out.

"No, not the way that just played out. It was a head game. He wanted me
to feel humiliated."

"Because you humiliated him," Spike stated.

"Yeah, except I get the feeling that kind of ‘game' was used before." She
shivered. "Can we just go now please? I want away from here and away
from him."

"Yes, angel, we can go," Spike stated and wrapped an arm around her,
pulling her close and kissing her forehead. "Why don't we go someplace and
have dinner? All of us."

Angel nodded. "That's fine, but do you think you could refrain from making
out with my sister?"





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