CHAPTER 22 -- Fiddle

Author’s Note: Thank you to everyone who’s currently voting for “Comedown” on Spuffy Archives! You guys are the best and your support and reviews mean the world to me! I wish I could hug each and every one of you! Happy reading!

Buffy was obviously in an agitated state. All night through the movie Ben had watched her as she shifted uncomfortably in her chair as if it was a cement block. She barely picked at the popcorn and chocolate covered peanuts in front of her. Now, two hours later, sitting across from him at a nice Italian restaurant, she fiddled with her fork, viciously cleaned off her spoon with her napkin, and twirled the ice in her glass with her straw.

Ben couldn’t help but smile a little at her nervous state. He’d been going out with her for a while, but had never witnessed any of the habits she so avidly displayed now. Habits that he recognized belonging to another one of his friends.

He slid his hand across the table, his larger one covering her tapping fingernails, bringing them to a halt, “So the movie was pretty good huh?”

“What?” Buffy looked up at him startled. Up to that point she had been staring fixatedly on her salad plate. “Oh, yeah, Denzel Washington is great.”

Ben looked puzzled, “Buffy . . . that was Will Smith.”

Buffy’s eyes widened, “Oh . . . Right, of course.” She gave him a half-hearted smile, “My bad.”

Buffy played with the corner of her menu which lay on the table. Ben had watched her and noticed that she hadn’t opened it yet. Looking to his right, he saw the waiter coming their way, “So, what are you ordering?”

“Chicken alfredo,” she answered instantly. She had ordered it there before and liked it. But it wasn’t as good as when Spike made it.

The couple placed their orders, handing over their menus, Buffy smiling guiltily when the waiter studied her dog-eared menu disapprovingly.

Buffy continued to drift her eyes aimlessly around the room, studying the sculptures decorating the place and paintings of quaint Italian villages mounted on the walls.

Ben examined his date, “Buffy, why are you here with me?”

“What?” she looked across the table at the queer look he was giving her. “What kind of question is that?”

His gaze never wavered, “Why are you here with me when you should be with him?” he asked gently.

“Him who?” she asked, nervously glancing around the restaurant, not liking where this conversation was going.

“Spike,” he replied.

Buffy jaw hit the floor, “Oh my god. I can’t believe this is happening. He put you up to this didn’t he? He told you . . .”

Ben interrupted her, “Buffy, what are you talking about? Spike didn’t tell me anything. Is there something I should know?”

Buffy continued to deny, “How do you . . .”

“You can just tell,” he sighed. “The way you are around each other. The way your faces light up when the other walks into a room.”

“We’re just friends,” she offered.

Ben gave her a contradictory look, “You ignore me when he’s around.”

Buffy slouched in her seat and pouted, giving a little, “I don’t mean to.”

“I know you don’t, that’s the incredible thing. You put the two of you in a room together and you fall into this incredible sync with each other. Buffy, I know you and I know Spike.”

Buffy shook her head, “Ben, I don’t feel the same way he does about me.”

“Don’t you?” he questioned.

They finished their meal in silence.

__________________________________________

They walked out of the restaurant together. Inside, Buffy was dumbfounded. She couldn’t believe it. Spike showed up in town with that cocky attitude of his and not only used her, but brainwashed everyone else. He had apparently successfully convinced everyone but herself that she was in love with him.

“Buffy, I know this night was supposed to be special for us, but with everything that’s gone on maybe we should just . . .”

She shut him up by kissing him, pushing her lips hard against his -- willing the fireworks, bells, and whistles to forcibly appear like the one’s she had seen earlier that night in the kitchen. None came, but Buffy ignored their lacking.

Ben pulled back breathless, shock evident on his face. He searched her eyes, “So what do you want to do?”

Buffy set her jaw, addressing him squarely, “Go back to my place,” she answered.

TBC

Author’s Note: I know!!! Angst, angst, angst and no Spike. Don’t worry, next chapter will be up in two days and you’ll all be happier individuals, I can assure you.





You must login (register) to review.