As Buffy and Spike, followed by an extremely talkative straw version of Xander, made their way through a thin wood, Buffy noticed her stomach rumble.

“Hmm,” she frowned, “I’m getting the tummy rumblins Dawn always complains about.”

Spike feigned a horrified face.

“Oh, dear, Gods, and I know how you get when you’re hungry, pet. Food? FOOD?!! Dear Gods, find this poor little Slayer some food!”

Buffy playfully smacked his arm and rolled her eyes.

“Ha ha. I don’t see you laughing when you haven’t had any blood…or booze, for that matter, fang face.”

“Yeah, yeah, Slayer; sticks and stones. I’ll find you some sodding grub.”

Spike walked over to a tree to grab an apple, but was taken aback when the tree grabbed his arm and shouted at him.

“What do you think you're doing?”

“What in the bloody hell do you think I’m doing…tree? I’m getting a sodding apple.”

“They’re my apples! You can’t have ‘em! How would you like to have someone come along and grab something off of you?”

Spike chuckled.

“I rather like when she comes and grabs me.”

“You don’t want those apples anyway,” Xander said, his face beginning to sparkle with a thought, “you don’t want worms, do you?”

However, Xander’s hopes at becoming a chivalrous provider were dashed when Spike punched the tree’s face, took a few apples, and yelled.

“Sod off, leafy!”

Though the trees tried to retaliate with apples pitched in the group’s direction, Spike silenced them with one flick of his Zippo lighter. He smirked as Buffy crunched into the apple, a sheer expression of enjoyment on her face.

“Is it good, pet?”

“Mmmhmm,” she mumbled, a few drops of apple juice dripping from her lips.

Spike smiled and puffed out his chest slightly.

“Good, then. Let no one say old Spike isn’t a good provider. Helpin’ fill your stomach, and keeping the scurvy at bay.”

Buffy grinned.

“Scurvy? Isn’t that some old pirate disease?”

“Old pirates…I’ll have you know, Miss Slayer, that pirates and scurvy are around in your day and age. And they were prevalent in my day…and I’m not that old. Hundred and fifty and still spry as the day I was born. Damn Slayer.”

“Oooh…the ‘Big Bad’ comes back waving scurvy in my face. You’re very intimidating. You should make an educational video and scare schoolchildren.”

“Now scurvy is very serious stuff, Buffy. You could lose your teeth, your hair will all fall out, your gums will bleed, you’ll be immobile and depressed. And I’ll be damned if I’m hanging around a toothless, hairless, depressed Slayer who can’t go anywhere to get gauze for her bleedin’ gums. ‘s why you have to eat your fruits, pet. No one wants scurvy.”

A muffled noise came from behind a patch of trees as the group walked forward, Buffy crunching her way into another apple.

“Oiiiillllcannnn”

Xander perked up his ears comically and scurried around.

“What was that noise?”

Buffy sighed.

“Oil can. She said ‘Oil can.’ Uhhh…come on, it’s over here.”

Spike grabbed said oilcan for Buffy, and followed the unimpressed Slayer over to a tin figure. Buffy gasped slightly when she recognized it.

“Anya?”

“Oiiiilllcannnnnn.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me…Spike, can you…”

“On it, Slayer,” Spike said as he oiled up the tin Anya’s stiffened jaw.

Anya moved her jaw back and forth, sighing in relief, but then frowned when Spike stopped oiling her.

“Um…hello? The rest of me needs a little help too, there, blondie.”

Spike scoffed and turned to Buffy.

“Any way I can shut her jaw again and just oil the rest of her, pet?”

Buffy rolled her eyes.

“You should be able to figure that one out, Spike. You never had trouble getting Anya lubed up before.”

He raised an eyebrow before thrusting the oilcan at Xander.

“Here, straw boy, oil up the canned bitch so we can be on our merry way.”

Anya gasped in anger, but kept silent as Xander lubed her joints with the thin oil. Spike walked to Buffy’s side and rubbed her neck, gently.

“ ‘m sorry, pet. You know there’s no one for me but you, yeah?”

Rolling her eyes, Buffy sunk back into his massage, forcing him to use rougher pressure. He grinned and rolled his tongue behind his teeth before whispering in her ear, and forcing a chuckle from her lips.

“Even though Anya does look pretty tasty as a soup can.”

A dreamy cackle broke through the wooded area. Xander and the newly mobile Anya stared in horror at Drusilla, who was perched atop of a small log cabin.

“I’m going to get you, mark my words! Well, stay away from her, or I'll stuff a mattress with you,” she said, pointing to Xander. “And you,” she pointed to Anya, “I'll use you for a beehive! And if I can’t get you…my faeries will!”

A loud sigh broke the silence of the group, and Buffy stared blankly at Drusilla.

“Can we just get on with this whole thing? We have a cowardly lion to find.”

Xander shrieked, and jumped into Anya’s strong, metal arms.

“A…li…li…li…lion!!!!”

Buffy shook her head and continued.

“Anyway, you’re supposed to launch a fireball or something at the straw guy, so get on with it so Spike and I can go home.”

Drusilla’s eyes stretched out widely as she stared at Buffy.

“Witch! You’re evil! Bad, bad, bad! Worse than me! Evil, future-teller! Go away!”

Drusilla frowned at Buffy before climbing onto her broomstick. A light gray stream of clouds left a trail behind her as she flew away. Buffy shrugged at Spike before grabbing his hand and motioning towards the dense forest ahead of them.

“Come on. There’s only one more stop, and we’ll get to the Wizard, and then we can finally go home.”

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