Our Day Has Come
Part 8/9
I turned to Xander.
"Bernie and Bob's Bowl-o-Rama?"
"Bernie and Bob's Bowl-o-Rama," he confirmed, deadpan.
I didn't say anything, just raised an eyebrow.
He smiled. "You're gonna love it, Buff."
"Oh, I'm sure I will," I agreed. "I have to warn you, though, I've never bowled in my life. I might need some help learning the ropes."
"I am moderately certain that can be arranged."
I smiled at him and turned to get out of the car.
"Wait," Xander said, and reached over to grab my arm. "Hold on."
I sat back as he got out of the car and came around to my side. He opened my door with a flourish, then reached in to take my hand as I stepped out.
I smiled up at him and said, "Going a bit overboard on the chivalry, m'lord."
"For you, milady," he answered, "there is no overboard."
My smile widened. "Ooh, I like the sound of that."
He grinned back at me, but didn't say anything as we started walking towards the door to the bowling alley. I looked down and realized he was still holding my hand. I hadn't even noticed at first, because it felt so natural.
That thought sent a warm rush through my body, and I realized I was as happy as I could ever remember being. But then another thought hit me, and I stopped dead in my tracks.
Xander kept walking for a second, but stopped when he realized I wasn't moving anymore. He turned to look at me. When he saw my expression his face grew concerned.
"What's wrong, Buffy?"
I gestured to the bowling alley with my free hand. "I'm afraid it's going to go all wrong. Not us," I hurried on when I saw the look in his eyes. "I'm not worried about that. But what if a demon attacks, or a bunch of vampires decide to call out the Slayer, or there's a fire, or a plague of locusts, or something?"
Xander nodded in understanding, then smiled and brought his hand up to brush a strand of hair back from my face.
"Show a little faith, Buff. There's magic in the night."
I felt my earlier smile slowly return, and I squeezed his hand as I answered, "Good point. And you ain't a beauty, but hey, you're all right."
"Oh, thanks so much for the vote of confidence," he answered with a laugh. He gestured towards the front door. "Shall we?"
"We shall," I said with a firm nod, and started walking again. Only to stop dead again when we got inside and I saw the place.
For the most part, it looked like what I'd always imagined bowling alleys looked like. To our right were the lanes. They were full of high school kids, laughing and talking and screaming. I smiled, remembering when I was like them. All of three years ago. Then I saw the lane farthest from the door, against the wall, and my mouth dropped in shock.
The ceiling above the lane was draped with pink, white and red crepe paper. Hanging from the crepe paper were red, heart-shaped balloons. On the wall were painted pictures of cupids and red and pink hearts, and a large, beautifully done sign proclaimed that the last lane was "Lover's Lane."
I turned and looked at Xander. "This is what everyone was up to this afternoon?"
He nodded uncertainly. "Do you like it?"
I grinned and threw my arms around him. "I love it!"
"Cool," he said, hugging me. I felt the tension leave his body. "Let's bowl," he went on happily.
"Let's bowl," I agreed, pulling out of his arms, but keeping hold of his hand. "What do we do first?" I asked.
"First, we eat."
I giggled. "Of course we do. I forgot who I was out with for a second there."
He tried to give me a stern look, but failed miserably. "Do you want to mock the Xand-man, or do you want to peruse this establishment's board of fare?"
I thought about that for a moment. "It's a tough call," I mused. "I mean, on the one hand, food is good. I'd go so far as to say it's great. I'm a big fan of food. But mocking the Xand-man, that's a very important part of my life. It's almost a spiritual thing, really."
"Ha," Xander said with a glare. "I say again, ha. And once more for those just joining us - ha. Can we eat?"
"I suppose," I sighed. "If you're not going to let me mock you anymore, we might as well."
"So very sorry to spoil your fun."
"No, you're not," I accused.
"You're right, I'm not," he admitted with a grin. He pulled me towards the snack bar.
When we got to the plastic tables, I stopped and laughed in delight. A small table in the corner had been decked out with a beautiful white tablecloth, two nice candles, and one of those ice buckets with a bottle sticking out of the top. In the middle of the table was a small vase holding a single white rose.
I turned to Xander.
"Pretty neat, huh?" he asked.
"Pretty neat," I told him. I shook my head and smiled. "You are just the sweetest thing on two legs. You do realize this, don't you?"
"Keep it down," he hissed, looking from side to side. "You'll blow my rep as an asshole."
I laughed, louder than I'd intended, causing heads to turn and stare at us. I clapped my hand over my mouth and blushed. "Asshole," I jeered. "Right. Not on the worst day of your life, Harris."
"I dunno, Buff," he countered, with a twinkle in his eyes. "I've had some pretty bad days."
"Yeah, you have," I agreed, turning serious. "We've both had some bad times. But this is one of the good times," I pressed on, refusing to give in to the memories, "so let's not talk about the bad stuff tonight, okay?"
"Whatever milady wishes," Xander said, and we walked over to the table. He pulled my chair out for me, and I smiled at him as I sat down.
He sat down next to me and smiled towards the kitchen. I looked that way just as someone walked up and stopped in front of our table.
He was big. Taller than Xander or Giles, lots taller than me. And muscular, like a boxer or football player. He was maybe fifty years old, and he looked like the kind of guy who could walk through a brick wall without slowing down. Or even noticing. He was wearing a slightly worn tuxedo, and he had a greasy white towel draped over his left arm. On him, it worked.
He bowed to me, and then to Xander. "Good evening, Buffy and Xander," he said in a deep, gravelly voice. "My name is Bob, and I will be your server tonight. Please allow me to welcome you to Bernie and Bob's Bowl-o-Rama. And may I say, mademoiselle," he finished, turning to me, "that you look wonderful tonight."
"You certainly may," I said with a grin.
His answering smile took at least ten years off his face. He looked at Xander. "As for your ugly ass," he said, "I guess you clean up pretty nice, kid."
Xander smirked and sighed. "I do the best I can. We can't all be fashion-plates like you, Bob. "
"So very true," Bob said. "So very, very true. It's sad, really." He trailed off, no doubt lost in deep contemplation of how sad it was. He shook his head minutely and brought his attention back to us. "And what can I get you tonight?" he asked.
Xander looked at me. I asked, "What are your specials?" just to keep in the spirit of things.
"Well," Bob began, "we have a wonderful chicken fingers dinner plate, served with french fries and honey mustard. We also serve a wide variety of burgers, also with french fries. We have an extensive appetizer list, including nachos, buffalo wings, and onion rings. Our specialty, however, is a classic pizza pie. It's the best in the state, if I may be so immodest."
Xander was still looking at me. I considered and said, "How about a pizza?"
"Very good," Bob said. "And what toppings would you like?"
"Pepperoni," I answered immediately. "And put sausage on half of it, since Xander here hasn't had his weekly coronary yet."
"Pepperoni with half sausage," Bob repeated. "An excellent choice." He gestured to the ice bucket. "May I offer you something to drink while you wait?"
"You may," Xander answered imperiously. Bob took the bottle out of the ice, unscrewed the cap and presented it to Xander. Xander made a show of sniffing it. "Ah, yes," he said. "A fine vintage. You may pour."
Bob chuckled and poured into my glass. As he did, I could see the label on the bottle. Iron City Root Beer. My favorite. I leaned my head against Xander's shoulder as Bob filled his glass, as well.
When he was finished pouring, Bob put the bottle back in the ice and nodded to us. "I shall now go place your order," he said. "I will be back shortly. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to make your night more pleasurable." He walked off.
I took a sip of root beer and looked into Xander's eyes. "I'm pretty sure there's nothing he or anyone else could do to make this night better," I said.
Xander smiled at me and raised his glass. "To you, Buffy," he toasted.
I shook my head. "No," I said. "To us."
Xander nodded. "Sounds good. To us, then."
We touched glasses and drank.
I put my glass down and looked around. We were still drawing a lot of stares, but I didn't pay them any attention. "Xander," I asked, "exactly how did you set all this up? You know Bob pretty well, I take it?"
He laughed. "Yeah. I've known him all my life, I guess. He's Rory's best friend. They were in the Army together, way back when. After they got out, they visited each other a lot, and one time when he came to Sunnydale, Bob fell in love. He ended up marrying Bernie, and they've lived here ever since."
"Is Bernie short for Bernice?"
"Bernadette, actually," Xander said, "but no one ever calls her that. She's the cook here, and Bob was right - they have the best pizza in the state. You'll love it."
"I'm sure I will," I agreed. "If it's so good, though, why haven't you taken me here before?"
Xander shrugged slightly. "I, uh, haven't been coming here all that often the past few years. Will hasn't, either. We used to come here all the time with Jesse, and it just felt weird after... Well, just after," he finished.
I cursed myself silently and reached across the table to take his hand. <Should have figured that one, Summers,> I berated myself.
He looked up at me with a small smile. "It's okay, Buff. Really. It's good to be back here and having fun again. And now Bernie's not going to threaten to beat me every time I see her anymore, which I have to put in the plus column."
"Definite plus," I agreed. I was going to say more, but Bob appeared in front of our table again and put down a wicker basket.
"Onion rings," he informed us. "Compliments of the lady of the house."
"Thank you," Xander and I said at the same time. Bob winked at me and strode off towards the kitchen.
I grabbed an onion ring and tasted it, then looked at Xander in shock.
"Xander, these are amazing!"
"Aren't they, though?" he asked through a full mouth. "I can't believe I forgot to order some," he went on after he swallowed. "It really has been too long since I've been in here, I guess."
"Well, I'm glad we're here," I said as I reached for another onion ring. Greasy, salty goodness. Yum!
We made short work of the basket, and went through the pizza pretty quickly when it arrived. It was huge. Twelve big slices. Xander and Bob were right. It was the best pizza I'd ever tasted.
"That's it," I announced as I dropped my fifth slice back onto my plate, half-eaten. "I've had all I can stands, and I can't stands no more. But we are definitely coming back here soon. And we'll bring everyone with us. Food like this should be shared. Often."
"Can't argue there," Xander said, grabbing the slice of pizza off my plate. He wolfed it down and grinned at me. "Shall we commence with the actual bowling portion of the evening?"
"We shall," I said, "but first I have to powder my nose. Meet you back here?"
"Over by the shoe counter," he said, pointing.
"Will do," I said as I walked towards the restrooms.
When I came out, I started for the shoe counter. As I passed by the kitchen, I heard a voice call out, "Buffy, right?"
I turned, alert for trouble, then relaxed when I saw who had spoken. She was taller than me, almost as tall as Xander, and heavily built. Not overweight, but solid and well-muscled. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, with a greasy white apron over them both.
"I'm Buffy," I agreed, holding out my hand. "You must be Bernie."
"Got it in one," she said, and shook my hand. She had a strong grip, but didn't go out of her way to exert too much pressure. "I just wanted to meet the woman who got Xander to make such a fuss."I gave her a huge grin. "He's the best, isn't he?"
"He sure is," Bernie agreed. "You must be pretty great yourself, though. Used to be, he'd only go to this much trouble for Willow. That puts you in some pretty select company, in case you don't know."
"I do know," I assured her. "Will's my best friend, too. She's pretty amazing, yeah."
"Yes, she is," Bernie said. "And so is Xander."
I cocked my head. "Is this the part where you tell me you'll kill me if I hurt Xander? 'Cause Willow already covered it."
That got a laugh out of her. "That sounds like Willow, all right. Not my style, though. I'm not worried about you two hurting each other, anyway. I've got a good feeling."
"Me, too," I told her happily.
"Good," she said with a smile. "You hold onto him, girl. Xander is most definitely a keeper."
"I've known that for a long time," I said. "But now I'm really starting to understand just how true it is."
"Good for you," Bernie said. "That's all I needed to hear. You two kids have fun." She turned and walked back into the kitchen.
I went to join Xander. I found him at the shoe counter, like he'd said. He chuckled as I walked up.
"Bernie give you any trouble?"
"Nope," I informed him. "She's got a good feeling about us. And she thinks you're a keeper."
Xander nodded wisely. "She always was the brains of the operation." I poked him in the ribs, and he laughed.
Then he turned and waved his hand to encompass the shoes behind the counter. "See anything you like?"
All the shoes were hideous, but I knew enough about bowling to realize that was the whole point. I shrugged. "Depends on what they have in my size, I guess."
Xander nodded again. "Makes sense, I suppose." He stepped up to the counter and smiled at the girl standing there. "Two pair, please," he said. "Ten and a half for me, and..." he trailed off and turned to look at me.
"Size six for me, please," I said.
As the girl bustled around getting our shoes, Xander stared at the counter with a strange smile on his face.
"What is it?" I asked.
"Hmm?" he asked absently, then turned to look at me. "Just remembering," he said.
"Remembering what?" I prompted.
"Chad Watkins used to work here," he answered softly.
"Oh," I said. Chad had gone to school with us. He'd died in the fight at Graduation. The Mayor killed him. He'd been the first of the students to die that day, but not the last.
"Oh," I said again, and closed my eyes. I felt Xander's arm come around me and leaned into his embrace. We just stood there for a few seconds. Suddenly, I didn't feel like bowling anymore.
"Y'know," Xander said with forced cheerfulness, "Chad wasn't exactly the smartest worker the Bowl-o-Rama ever had."
"No?" I asked, trying to be upbeat myself.
"Oh, yeah," Xander said. "He never got the shoe sizes right, for one thing. And he wasn't even consistent about it. It was a good day when you got a matched pair. Half the time, you'd get one that was too big, and the other was too small."
I chuckled. "That doesn't sound too comfortable. Why didn't Bernie and Bob fire him?"
"Ah, he was a good guy. Worked like a horse, too. Everyone liked him. Besides, bowling shoes aren't particularly comfortable anyway. And Chad always got within half a size of what you wanted, so it wasn't that bad. It was tradition, really."
"Tradition," I said, warming to the subject. "There's a lot to be said for tradition."
"That there is, Buff. That there is."
I smiled into Xander's chest, then opened my eyes and pulled out of his arms just as the girl came back with our shoes.
"Sorry about the wait," she said. "It's kind of messy back here tonight. Size six and ten and a half, right?"
"Not quite," I said. "I'm going to need a new pair. One shoe five and a half, the other six and a half."
Xander laughed and reached down to squeeze my hand. "And I'll take one side ten, the other side eleven, please."
The girl looked at us like we were insane for a second, then smiled brightly and laughed. "Two Chad specials, coming up," she said.
She was back much more quickly this time, and in just a moment Xander and I were lacing up our shoes. They didn't feel too bad. My left foot was cramped, but my right had all the room in the world, so between them, I had a good fit.
I looked over at Xander. He was looking at me with a serious expression, but he smiled when my eyes met his.
"Tradition," he said, standing up.
"Tradition," I agreed, then stood up and took his hand in mine.
"Time to bowl," he said.
"Time to bowl," I agreed.
"Okay," Xander said. "The first thing we have to do is choose a ball."
"Choose a ball. Check."
"Right. For most people, weight is the most important thing to worry about. If it's too heavy, that's no good."
"For most people, you said. What about for Slayers? What's the most important thing for me?"
Xander shrugged. "Color, maybe?"
"Cool! I want a pink one. Do they have any pink ones?"
They did, in fact, have a pink one. With sparkles. Xander chose basic black. For formal bowling matches, presumably. Suitably equipped, we continued on to Lover's Lane.
When we got there, I stopped and stared at everything for a minute or two. When I turned to look at Xander again, he had a big smile on his face.
"I love it," I said. "It's beautiful."
"Good," he said. "So are you."
I blushed and looked away. "Thank you," I whispered shyly.
I gasped as he pulled me into his arms and brought his face down next to mine. I thought he was going to kiss me, but he didn't. I was disappointed until he said, "It's the truth. You're beautiful, Buffy."
"Thank you," I whispered again.
He held me for what felt like a long time, but was probably just a couple of minutes. When he started to let go, I clutched at him and he held me a little longer. Finally, I pulled back and looked up at him.
"This feels good," I said.
"Yeah," he said. "Yeah, it really does."
"But we should bowl," I went on, half hoping he'd disagree.
"Yeah," he sighed reluctantly. "We should bowl." Then his face lit up into a smile. "It's just about time for the music to start, I think. And the lights."
"Music and lights?" I asked, just as the lights went out. Not all of them, though. Several spotlights came on and danced across the lanes. Then a strobe light began to pulse, and finally a bunch of different colored lights started bouncing off of disco balls that I hadn't noticed hanging from the ceiling before. The whole effect was very Saturday Night Fever.
"Whaddaya think?" Xander asked.
"This is possibly the strangest thing I've ever seen," I told him truthfully. "But I thought you said there was music?" I asked, just as the loudspeakers started to blare.
"Her name was Lola, she was a showgirl,
With yellow feathers in her hair,
and a dress cut down to there,"
"No," I pleaded. "Not Barry!"
Looking around, I saw that just about everyone was dancing. I looked up at Xander in confusion. And a little fear, if you must know.
"Tradition!" he called above the music. He held his hands out to me.
Not being one to buck tradition, I took his hands and we danced. To Barry Manilow. Just when I thought things couldn't get any weirder, we hit the chorus. Every voice in the place roared out.
"At the Copa! Copacabana! The hottest spot north of Havana!"
I looked up into Xander's eyes as he laughed and sang and danced with me, and I decided maybe Barry wasn't so bad, after all. Especially when we got to the end of the chorus.
"At the Copa... They fell in love..."
I liked that part. I liked that a whole lot. I was on cloud nine for the rest of the song, as I rested my head against Xander's chest and we moved to the music.
When the song ended, Xander brushed at my hair and I looked up at him. He smiled down at me.
"Tradition," he said.
"Lot to be said for tradition," I mused.
"That there is," he agreed.
Another song started playing, something disco that I didn't really recognize.
"Bowling time?" I asked.
"Sounds good," Xander said. "You want to go first?"
"Sure," I said. After all, how hard could it be?
Harder than it looked. My first shot went right into the gutter. I thought it was going straight, but it twisted as soon as it hit the lane.
"They'll do that," Xander commiserated. I just glared at him. And I glared even harder when he knocked down half the pins with his first shot.
With my second throw, I managed to stay out of the gutter. I even knocked down four pins. Yay, Buffy.
"Not bad," Xander said. I'd have hit him, but it was obvious he meant it. There wasn't even a trace of sarcasm in his voice.
"Thanks," I said grudgingly.
"Do you want some help?"
I was about to refuse, but thought better of it.
"Sure."
I was very glad I'd agreed when he walked up and put his arms around me from behind. His left arm was around my waist, and his right hand was entwined with mine.
"Okay," he said, "this is how you want to do it." He bent us over, pressing his body against mine, and took me through the motions of the perfect bowling throw.
"Mmm," I sighed. "Again?"
"Of course." He did it again. This time, I tried to pay attention to what he was showing me. I wasn't very successful.
"I don't know," I said. "Could you maybe walk me through a real throw?"
"I can do that," Xander said. He started to let go of me, but I grabbed at his arms and kept him next to me. Together, we walked over to grab my ball off the belt thingy, then walked up to the start of the lane.
He carefully placed my fingers in the holes, then rested his hand against the back of mine. His left arm was still around my waist.
"Like this," he instructed, and we went through the motions again until I sent the ball rolling towards the pins. We stayed bent over, his whole body against mine, as the ball traveled down the lane. I had my eyes closed, but I heard a clatter as several pins went down.
"That was great, Buff," Xander said, as he stood up and let go of me. "Do you think you've got the hang of it now?"
"Not yet," I told him. "Could you maybe show me again?"
"Sure. Here comes your ball."
It turned out I needed a lot of instruction. As we were bending down for my throw in the sixth frame, Xander suddenly let go of me and stood up straight.
"Just to get something straight," he said. "You're the Slayer. Something like this should come easy to you."
"Took you long enough. It probably should, yeah."
He nodded, unsurprised. "So you didn't really need all this help, right?"
"Nope," I answered cheerfully. "You complaining?"
He thought about that for all of a second. "Well, no," he allowed. "Complaining is definitely not the right word."
"Good. Get back down here."
"Yes, ma'am."
And so it went for the rest of the night. I imagine Xander ended up with the highest score, but I sure didn't care. I had Xander's arms around me for the majority of the night. I had no complaints.
Finally, unfortunately, it got to be near closing time. Bob's voice came over the loudspeaker to tell us we had fifteen minutes to get the hell out of Dodge. Everyone jeered him, but I don't think anyone had the guts to argue the point.
"No fair," I pouted. "I'm not done with you yet."
Xander laughed warmly. "We've still got time for a couple more throws."
I started to nod eagerly, but the end of the current song changed my mind. I shook my head. "No. I want to dance with you again."
Xander smiled and took me into his arms as a new song started.
"We're having a party,
Dancing to the music
Played by the DJ
On the radio..."
"I like this one," I purred as we moved against each other. "Who is it?"
"Sam Cooke," Xander told me softly. "This is Bernie's favorite song."
"I think it's mine, too," I said, and Xander gave me a squeeze. I leaned against him as the song went on.
"So mister, mister DJ,
Keep those records playing,
'Cause I'm having such a good time,
Dancing with my baby."
"Dancing with my baby," Xander whispered into my hair. I don't think he meant me to hear him, so I didn't say anything. But inside, I glowed. I pressed myself even closer against him.
Even after the song ended, we stood there holding each other as the other bowlers started filing out around us.
"We should go," Xander said.
"We should," I agreed.
We didn't move.
"We should go," I said, after a minute.
"Yeah," Xander said as he slowly let go of me, "we should."
We were both quiet as we changed our shoes and grabbed our things and headed out to the car. I was thinking that I was sorry the night was over, and that I doubted anything would ever feel as good as dancing with Xander.
Little did I know.
***
END 8/9
***