The Need for Tweed
Title: The Need for Tweed
Author: Sweetdoggie (firstname.lastname@example.org)
Pairing: B/G friendship
Summary: Buffy buys some new shoes
Disclaimer: No permission has been granted to use the characters. They are owned by their creator, Joss Whedon, Twentieth Century Fox, UPN, WB, and Mutant Enemy. This story is non-profit and is intended solely as entertainment. No copyright infringement is intended.
Buffy was shoe shopping. Normally, this was a task that took all her attention and she loved it, but today, she needed a boring pair of trainers to take up running with Giles. Since the ultimate goal didn't interest her, she could hardly be faulted for simply stopping in the shoe store and picking the first pair of sneakers that looked half-way serviceable. She liked ones with rounded toes covered with rubber because they looked totally retro and she was in the mood for that. She had a pair of white leather ones picked out when she turned the corner and there they were.
She couldn't believe it at first. Surely her eyes were playing tricks on her? A careful examination, however, showed that she was correct. She was looking at an honest-to-God pair of tweed sneakers—and she hated to admit it, but they looked cool. They were made by Converse, a reliable brand, and were unisex so she had to be careful of the sizing. She tried them on. Damn. They fit like they were made for her feet. With a sigh that recognized and submitted to the inevitability of fate, she put the white leather shoes back.
The next morning, she knocked on Giles' door at six as he had requested. She hated getting up this early, but he liked to jog in the cool of the day. He opened the door, surprised that she was on time.
“Buffy! You're actually here? Is there an apocalypse pending?” He teased her.
She crossed her arms over her chest and frowned repressively at him. “Oh, ha, ha. And, for your information, there probably is an apocalypse around the corner. Look at my shoes!”
He glanced down at them. At first, he just thought that they were a rather attractive pair of sneakers, but nothing special, then he looked more closely.
“Buffy, I say! Is that...”
She glared at him, knowing somehow that it was all his fault. “Yes, they're tweed.”
Before he could stop himself, a giggle erupted. He slapped a hand over his mouth, but couldn't suppress his hilarity. He actually fell back against his door as he gave up the battle and simply whooped with glee.
His laughter was infectious and her eyes twinkled, but she still managed to put a pout on her lips as she watched him laugh himself almost dizzy.
“So,” he had to stop for another giggle, “to what do I owe this fashion transformation? I was under the impression that the Hellmouth would freeze over before you ever wore tweed.”
She growled something at him that he couldn't quite make out. “What was that again?”
“I said, they're cool, OK? Are you satisfied now? I am actually wearing tweed. Look what you've done to me!”
He reached out, swept her into his arms and swung her around in a circle. “Oh, Buffy. You do delight me so.”
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