"I have shoes," Willow protested.
On her hands and knees deep in her best friend's closet, Buffy simply huffed and shoved aside the sixth pair of black flats she found. "You have boring shoes."
Rolling her eyes, Willow flopped back on her bed. "I don't even want to go to this stupid dance," she mumbled.
"It's our first Valentine's Day Ball, Will. You're going."
"I don't have a date," she protested petulantly.
"Me neither," Buffy replied with a shrug. "Riley is off on some stupid mission, but that's not stopping me from going and having fun and being gorgeous."
"Yeah, but you're you."
Backing out of the closet, Buffy rose and carefully took the cream satin and lace gown in its protective plastic bag off the bar. "You're going to blow everyones' minds in this."
Willow felt herself blushing. "It's not me. I don't know how you talked me into it."
Buffy shot her an amused smirk. "I think you were high on mochas."
"Which you fed me. You're an enabler. A bad, bad enabler."
"So, how many mochas will it take to get you to the shoe store?"
Rolling her eyes, Willow stretched her green and white fuzzy socked feet in the air, then swung them over the side of the bed. "I have those ivory flats. They'll work."
"No flats! For one, the dress is too long. You need heels."
"I told you it was too long."
"It's supposed to be too long because you need to wear heels with it." Hanging the dress back up, Buffy grabbed her purse. "Come on, shoe shopping."
"Noooooo," Willow protested, but was already stuffing her feet into clogs.
In fashion, the Slayer would have her way.
And just over four hours and five stores later, Willow had to admit that, despite her currently aching feet from trudging all over the mall, the gold open-toed and sided three inch heel shoes were beautiful and would perfectly accent the dress Buffy had talked her into.
She put her aching foot down on purse shopping, though. She already had a vintage gold one that would work.
"You owe me so many mochas."
Willow grinned back.