These boots were made for walking by Mefiant
 
 
Chapter #1 - All
 

“So, where are we going again?” Buffy turned the map in every direction, folding and unfolding it as she peered at names and strange little squiggles. With a frustrated huff she threw the much abused paper onto the backseat in disgust. “I think we’re lost. You got us lost, didn’t you?”
“Bloody hell! Slayer, will you shut up.” Spike reached down to grab the map, thrusting it at her as the car swerved slightly. “An’ I’m not the one that got lost; you can blame that on Harris and his complete lack of any type of common sense.”

Buffy yelped as Spike suddenly turned the car onto a dirt road. “Will you watch where you’re going; you’re going to kill us.”

“Look, Slayer, I was quite happy sitting in my crypt watchin’ telly. You’re the one that came banging on my door ‘cause you need to ride to the whelp and demon girl’s rescue.” Spike peered through his blackened windshield, sighing in relief when he noticed that the sky was beginning to darken. Hopefully by the time they reached the stranded pair he would be able to leave the safety of the car without becoming a walking torch.

“Well, I couldn’t leave them stranded out here in the dark, could I?” Buffy pouted as she thrust the map on the floor once more. “And where are we anyway?”

“Bloody East Bumblefuck by the looks of it. What I wanna know is why they’re out here in the first place.” Spike fumbled in the glove compartment, giving a cry of triumph as his hand fell on a crumpled packet of cigarettes.

“Anya didn’t say why they were out here, and if you light that up I’ll…”

“You’ll what? Get out and walk?” Spike grinned as he flicked open his lighter and bought it to the end of the cigarette clasped loosely between his lips.

“You know smoking causes cancer?”

“And that affects me how?” Spike blew a cloud of smoke in Buffy’s direction.

Coughing, Buffy waved the offending haze away from her face. “You’re such a pig, Spike.”

“Sing a new one, Slayer.”

“There!” Buffy suddenly yelled, grabbing Spike’s arm and gesturing wildly.

“I can bloody well see them. Now will you sit back and keep your hands to yourself, before you send us both to our deaths in a mass of flaming twisted metal.” Spike bought the car to rest beside Xander’s stranded vehicle.

Climbing out of the Desoto he strode around Xander's car, looking for any outward signs of damage before coming to a standstill in front of a slightly sun burnt and very pissed off Anya. “’ello, luv. What seems to be the problem?”

“That is the problem.” Anya pointed an accusing finger in the direction of an obviously passed out Xander.

“Anya, what happened?” Buffy began to run towards Xander, eyes scanning the area for signs of danger.

“Oh don’t bother with him, he’s just drunk.” Anya crossed her arms, fury emanating from her in waves.

Buffy stopped short, staring at Xander in bewilderment before turning and returning to the pair standing at the car.

“Maybe you should start from the beginning, luv.” Spike leant against the side of the car waiting for Anya to explain how they had come to be stranded on the side of a country road, with Xander lying dead drunk beneath an apple tree.

“Well, you know how Thanksgiving is coming up?” Anya began to pace. “Traditionally sales during the holiday period are much higher if an establishment decorates to match the festivity of the holiday.” Anya waited for the pair to nod in acknowledgment. “Well, I decided that if the staff were dressed in the traditional costume of the pilgrims, sales would be boosted even more. The problem is that I found it difficult to procuring an appropriate bonnet for the costume in Sunnydale.”

Anya peered through the rear window of the car, pointing to a small parcel sitting forlornly on the seat. “Anyway a customer came in last week and told me about this country fair that is held out here every month. They sell all sorts of things, and one of the stalls was a lady who made bonnets and aprons and all sorts of frilly things. So I made Xander bring me out here so that I could purchase the required items to make my costume perfect.”

“Well that explains why you’re out here, but not how you got stuck.” Spike flicked the still smouldering butt of his cigarette in Xander’s direction.

“Oh I’m getting there, believe me.” Anya cast Xander a disgusted look. “Xander moaned about having to go at first but then he found a stall that made these silly cowboy boots and he thought they were just fantastic. He even took off his nice new loafers that I bought for him and put those ugly things on.” Anya jerked her head towards Xander's feet.

Spike stood, craning his neck slightly so that he could get a better look at the bright red leather boots firmly wedged on the now-snoring Xander’s feet. “Well that’s attractive.”

“That wasn’t the worst of it, though.” Anya began to pace once again. “While I was talking to the woman who made the bonnets, Xander found a stall that sold apple cider—the alcoholic kind.”

Spike smirked at the looks that Anya kept throwing in Xander’s direction. The whelp was extremely lucky that his girl was no longer of the demon persuasion, because Spike was sure that he would have been covered in something disgusting and extremely painful by now.

“Anyway, I finally managed to get him into the car so I could drive us home.”

Anya’s fury seemed to flicker out then, her eyes moistened and her lips quivered slightly as she spoke. “I wasn’t sure where we were going because Xander drove out here, and then I got us lost and Xander was yelling at me about not being able to follow directions.” Anya sniffled. “But how am I supposed to follow directions when he doesn’t tell me that we have to turn until AFTER we’ve passed the road?”

“Yeah, luv, makes it hard when the navigator doesn’t have a clue.” Spike slid Buffy a sly look.

“Hey!” Buffy started to protest, her words cut off as Spike raised an eyebrow in question of her map reading skills.

“Finally Xander just fell asleep,” Anya continued. “So I took the time and studied the map and worked out how to get us home again. I was just about to leave when Xander woke up and started yelling something; then he threw up in the car before jumping out and running over there.” Anya pointed at the prone figure. “Where he threw up again and passed out,” Anya finished her sentence in one long breath. “The only problem is that when I got out to check on him I wasn’t paying attention and I left the keys in the car. I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t put my phone in my pocket earlier in the day”

Spike turned and looked through the drivers’ window. Sure enough the keys sat in the ignition, tantalizingly just out of reach. “’s that it? That’s all that’s wrong? Not a problem, pet.” Spike went back to the Desoto, where he rummaged through the junk on the floor in the back, before returning wielding a piece of wire. In a few seconds he stood back, opening the door as he did.

“Oh, thank goodness.” Anya sighed in relief as she pulled the keys from the ignition, grasping them tightly as though they might disappear, a pungent odour wafted from the car’s interior.

“Oh, that’s just wrong.” Buddy wrinkled her nose in distaste, stepping away from the car as she did.

Spike was hastily putting as much distance between himself and the reeking vehicle as he could, his face showing his obvious disgust. “You can’t drive that home, luv. The smell will knock you out before you get a mile.”

“I don’t have much choice.” Anya’s whole body seemed to slump in defeat. “It’s not like Xander can drive.

“Well he could if he was sober.” Buffy stared at her prone friend. “I mean, it doesn’t seem right that Anya be punished for Xander being drunk. Can’t we take her home and Anya just put the keys in his pocket or something?”

“You know, Slayer, that’s not a bad idea.” A speculative gleam filled Spike’s eyes. “Could also let demon girl here get a spot of vengeance at the same time.”

Anya frowned, “But Spike you know I don’t have my powers anymore.”

“There are other ways to get vengeance, you know.” Spike turned towards Buffy’s suspicious face. “And it won’t bleedin’ hurt him in any way, Slayer.”

Walking over to Anya, Spike started to whisper in her ear, before stopping and waving Buffy over into the huddle as well. Wide grins soon split the girls’ faces, as they started to giggle.

It took about half an hour for the three co-conspirators to complete their task. Standing back, they cast a critical eye over their work.

“You know I think we did a pretty good job,” Spike addressed the girls as he bent to collect a bundle from the ground.

“Yes, I am very pleased with the result.” Anya beamed. “I have found this form of vengeance very satisfying.”

Buffy was furiously scribbling on a piece of paper. “Okay, the note’s all finished.” She handed the scrap of paper to Spike. “How are you going to stop it from blowing away?”

Spike looked around him, before reaching up and plucking an apple from the tree and then using it to anchor the note near Xander’s still-snoring head.

After walking back to the Desoto the three piled in, the girls chatting happily as Spike half-heartedly grumbled about having missed all his shows.

~*~*~*~

Xander woke up shivering. Why was he shivering? Rolling over, he thrust out a hand to grab the blankets just as his nose came into contact with something round and smooth. Sitting up, Xander realised that he was lying in the middle of a field with dark trees all around him. Looking for the object that he had felt before, Xander spied a piece of white paper sitting snugly beneath it. “Huh?”

Xander pulled the paper close to his face as he tried to make out the words in the darkened night. “Dear Xander. Spike said when you finally woke up you would be sober enough to drive home. We are leaving the keys at the store about three miles down the road, Spike suggested leaving them somewhere else but I told him that I didn’t think that would be very comfortable. We have taken Anya home with us. Love Buffy.”

“Three miles! Yeah, but in what direction?” Xander struggled to his feet. He reached up to brush something from his hair, and his hand came into contact with some kind of scratchy fabric. “What the…” Xander began to tug at the offending object, almost choking himself as the ties pulled tight across his throat.

Xander began to walk towards his car, hoping that the mirrors would help him remove the uncooperative object from his head. It only took two steps before he realised that something was not quite right. Looking down, he tried to puzzle out what was wrong. “Where are my clothes?” Xander noted the few leaves that still clung to his skin—the few leaves that, until he’d stood, had been the only things keeping his modesty intact. At least his new boots were still firmly on his feet.

“Spike,” Xander muttered. “He did this. Wait until I tell Buffy; she’ll stake his sorry ass for sure.” His hand clenched around the paper he still held, as a thought suddenly filled his head. “No, wait, Buffy wouldn’t have…” He pulled the note up, studying the writing intently. “And even if she did Anya wouldn’t have let…Oh, who am I kidding? Anya so would have let them.”

Shuffling the final distance to the car, Xander glanced in the side mirror and noted the frilly white bonnet sitting firmly on his head. Straightening, he looked into the locked car’s interior. Yup, there were his clothes sitting neatly on the driver’s seat. Sighing, Xander looked at the road stretching before him into the night. Shoulders slumped, he began to shuffle down the dirt road, wincing as his new shoes began to rub against his now-sockless feet.

The End