Title:  On His Toes

Authors:  bellefleur "the brains" & mimic "the brawn" 117

Email:  bellefleur1013@yahoo.com & mimic117@yahoo.com

Rating:  Maybe R for language and not much of that

Setting:  Season 7-ish

Disclaimer:  Not ours, although we can keep hoping.

Summary:  "What is it with women and shoes, anyway?"

Dedication:  For Audu2 and Penelope, window-shoppers 
extraordinaire, on their almost-joint birthdays.  Without 
them, this story would not exist.

Authors' Thanks: To the IWTB list for providing shoe 
information to the footwear impaired.

Beta thanks:  To Cindy, ever faithful, always ruthless.  
And to Paige, for allowing us to pick her shoe-loving brain.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

On His Toes
by bellefleur & mimic117


Mr. Richard's Footwear Emporium
Friendship Heights, MD
3:45 PM

"If I never see another pair of shoes again..."  The remainder of 
Mulder's grumble was drowned out by the jingle of curtain rings 
as he thrust the burgundy velvet door covering aside with one 
shoulder.

Scully removed her headphones and watched him trudge to the 
back corner of the stock room with seven boxes of shoes in his 
arms, then she returned her attention to the pair of security 
monitors on the table in front of her.  

"Well, they're certainly keeping you on your toes," she 
observed.

He groaned as he bent to set the pile of boxes on the floor next 
to her.  "Get me a tutu and sign me up for Swan Lake."

"It was only one group, Mulder."

He straightened, one hand pressing into his back.  "It was the 
bridal party from Hell!  I'm amazed six women actually agreed 
on one style of shoe in under two hours.  Before that it was four 
teenaged girls who kept looking from my nose to my feet and 
giggling.  It's been a constant stream of footwear fanatics since 
the store opened.  I've barely had time to pee, let alone eat 
anything."  

He tiredly scanned the shelves, obviously trying to find where 
the various shoes belonged.  When she pointed at an aisle two 
down from her station, he glared at her.  "You could help."  

Scully checked the monitors.  The owner, Mr. Richard, was 
clearing up after the bridal party invasion.  He'd given his 
regular employee the day off, so it had been only him and 
Mulder assisting customers all day.  There was no one else in 
the store at that moment.  She set her headphones on the table 
and went to join her partner.  She could spare some time to 
keep him happy.  He really had been extraordinarily busy.

She couldn't blame Mulder for his pissy mood.  This wasn't 
exactly their usual territory, staking out a shoe store.  Skinner 
had assigned them as one of the surveillance teams since they 
weren't out on a case and every available body was needed to 
help.  

There was a serial killer loose--a shoe fetishist.  All of his 
victims were found naked, except for one high-heeled shoe.  
Very fancy, strappy, impractical shoes, designed by Jimmy 
Choo.  Expensive shoes.  That was the first clue: women who 
normally shopped at Payless were found wearing several-
hundred-dollar Jimmy's when they died.  Obvious conclusion? 
The killer was buying the shoes himself.

Once the shoes were traced back to the small, exclusive stores 
where they had been purchased, security videos provided 
fuzzy pictures of a generic-looking man who turned up within 
twenty-four hours after a disappearance.  According to 
employee statements, he always paid in cash.  Geographic 
mapping of the stores and dump sites helped to further narrow 
down the list of places they needed to watch.  Good thing, too.  
A woman had been kidnapped the previous afternoon.  Now 
the clock was ticking.  

There was little time to get teams familiarized with the 
assignment and placed in stores around town, but they'd 
managed.  Now all they could do was wait until their guy 
showed up to buy his preferred brand of shoe.  

Scully took a couple boxes up the rolling ladder since Mulder 
was already crouched on the floor, searching the bottom shelf 
for the right tag.  As much time as she'd spent shoe shopping 
over the years, Scully had never really given much thought to 
the actual mechanics of getting shoes onto shelves.  She had a 
new respect for the people who worked in full-service stores; 
the ones like Mr. Richard who still personally assisted each 
customer.  She vowed to patronize the smaller stores 
whenever she had a chance.  Women's feet could not live by 
Payless alone.  

Mulder stood and jammed a box onto the shelf right next to her 
elbow.  "How did I end up selling shoes while you get to sit 
behind the desk?" he asked.  "You know how hard it is to make 
Skinner believe my reports.  I couldn't sell shoes to someone 
standing on hot coals.  So why me?"

Scully pointed at the box in his hand and waggled her fingers.  
He passed it to her.  "You should have called 'tails', Mulder."

He snorted.  "Either Eisentrout used a double-headed coin or 
he likes you better.  Flipping a coin is an idiot's way of making 
decisions."

"Well you didn't have to tell him that.  Besides, if you'd quit 
calling him Agent Rainbowtrout, the SAC might be more 
inclined to play nice."

He shoved another box into an open slot.  "When he stops 
calling me Alienboy, I'll consider it."

Scully heard the tinkle of bells at the front of the store, 
heralding the entrance of more customers.  Mulder tilted his 
head back and groaned.  "I quit.  I'll fax my resignation to 
Skinner.  Just don't make me--"

Mr. Richard's voice at the doorway interrupted.  "Your 
assistance please, Mr. Fox."

Mulder leaned an elbow on the edge of a shelf and made 
sobbing noises into the crook of his arm.  "I'm stuck in a 
demented Dr. Seuss book.  Save me, Scully!"

She climbed down the ladder, patting his shoulder in passing.  
"You're the great observer of humanity, Mulder.  Have fun with 
the customers.  I'm stuck back here, staring at computer 
screens."  

Scully returned to the security monitors and put her microphone 
headset on.  She pointed to her ear.  "Check your receiver.  Am 
I clear?"  

He pushed on the large piece of plastic hooked over his left ear 
and snuggled into the ear canal.  It was the latest in wireless 
receivers and looked a lot like a hearing aid.  With Mulder's 
short hair, they wouldn't have been able to conceal a regular 
receiver so he'd opted for one that hid in plain sight, then 
proceeded to complain about it all day.

He gave her a thumbs-up, but he still looked peeved.  "How 
about we switch places?  Isn't it my turn to be the voyeuristic 
security guard yet?"

She shrugged apologetically.  "Not much longer, partner.  The 
store closes at eight."

Mulder pointed a finger her way.  "Undercover at Disneyland, 
Scully.  Ride attendant for It's A Small World.  Eight-hour 
shifts.  Just you wait."  He straightened his tie, checked to 
make sure his shoulder holster was secure and concealed, then 
stomped out again.

Scully held back her smile until she saw his image on a 
monitor.  She was sure to regret baiting him later, but for now 
she was enjoying herself for a change.

She could see several people milling around out in the store.  
More than one group must have entered at the same time.  Mr. 
Richard was talking to an elderly man and woman, probably a 
married couple.  Mulder trailed after a pair of women as they 
ooh-ed and ahh-ed over a display of the most expensive shoes.  
Scully had to give him credit.  His disgust with the assignment 
didn't bleed into his voice as he asked, "May I help you lovely 
ladies?"

The diminutive brunette smiled at her friend.  "Did you hear 
that, Laverne?  He called us lovely."

"A man of taste and perception, Lucy."  The woman with the 
close-cropped, platinum hair inclined her head, waving a regal 
hand at a pair of strappy, black heels.  "Indeed, you may help 
us, my dear sir.  The Vera Wang in a size seven-and-a-half, if 
you please."  

Mulder bent toward the smaller woman.  "And for you, 
madam?"

She peeked at him from under her lashes.  "Oh my, I'm such a 
shoe whore.  They all look wonderful.  Decisions, decisions..."

"May I suggest the same shoe your friend is trying, in whatever 
tiny size will fit your dainty feet comfortably?"  

Scully covered her mouth and chuckled into her hand.  
Apparently Mulder was taking her advice to heart.

Lucy wrinkled her nose.  "I'm a seven-and-a-half, too.  Not very 
dainty, I'm afraid."

"Nonsense!" Mulder replied.  "You have the feet of a pixie, I'm 
sure."

Laverne's "And it's time she gave them back" earned her a 
swat on the arm.  "Try the Vera's," she insisted.  "They're a 
nice, stacked shoe."

Lucy thoroughly perused each table's display while Mulder 
shifted from foot to foot.  Scully could tell his admittedly-thin 
good humor was edging toward transparent.  It looked like he 
could use some help.

"Get the Vera Wang while she's making up her mind," she said 
quietly into the mike.  She saw Mulder's head dip slightly.  

"This is an important decision," he said jovially.  "Take your 
time while I get your friend's selection.  I'll be right back, 
ladies."

He shoved aside the door curtain and strode straight to Scully's 
table.  "What am I supposed to do with these two?  What the 
hell is Vera Wang?  I don't have a clue what they're talking 
about!"

Scully waved her hand to shush him.  "Keep your voice down 
and don't panic.  Did you get the style number of the shoe she 
was pointing to?"

"Yeah."

She continued, "Vera Wang is the brand name of that shoe.  
You'll find those in the very last aisle."

"But why'd she call it by name?  Everyone else just refers to the 
shape or color.  It took a while, but I finally understand what 
'sling-back' and 'strappy' mean."  

Scully decided not to comment on the color issue, especially 
considering the earlier fiasco when a woman asked for oxblood 
pumps and he brought her brown ones.  "I guess these two are 
only interested in certain designers."

Aggravation took the place of panic.  "Well that's just great.  
Only I could end up with a couple of finicky shoe experts."  

"Fashionistas," Scully corrected.  

He squinted at her.  "What?"

Scully sighed.  "Never mind.  Just get back out there with the 
shoes.  I'll feed you any info as you need it.  Okay?"

"Peachy," he muttered.

There were still other customers in the store so Scully couldn't 
leave her post to help him find the shoes but it didn't take him 
long.  He waggled the box at her in passing, then she saw him 
appear on the monitor again.

"Here we are," he chirped.  "Now, if you'll allow me..."  Mulder 
pulled a pair of white, cotton gloves from his suit coat pocket.  
He turned toward the surveillance camera, grimacing for 
Scully's benefit as he worked them on over his hands.  He'd 
done that ever since Mr. Richard had chewed him out for 
handling the shoes with his "soiled, oil-laden" fingers.  Scully 
could empathize with Mulder's loathing: the gloves were a 
couple sizes too small, making his long, elegant fingers look 
like Mickey Mouse-hands.  

Digits safely ensconced in cotton, Mulder dropped to one knee 
and reached for Laverne's bare foot.  Lucy was still absorbed in 
eyeing the shelves.  She pointed at a pair of strappy, peep-toe 
stilettos.  "Are those by Mizrahi?   I've always liked his look.  
Does he make boots?  I love furry little boots."

Laverne huffed dismissively.  "He's making a line for Target 
these days, dear.  Not exactly what I'd call a top-of-the-line 
brand name anymore.  I wouldn't be caught dead in Mizrahi."

Lucy gasped.  "NO!  Well, I never.  We certainly can't have 
THAT, can we?"  

Laverne looked over at the table for a moment, lips pursed.  
"What about that cute Dolce and Gabbana kitten-heel sandal?  
I'll bet that would be very comfy during the summer."

There was a short, awkward silence.  The two customers 
looked from each other to Mulder, still laboring over Laverne's 
feet.  Either he didn't realize the casual comment was a request 
to try on that shoe, or he was pretending not to hear them 
because he had no idea what they were talking about.  Scully 
was just about to bail him out when Lucy tapped her friend's 
arm.  

"Laverne," she hissed, gesturing with her head toward Mulder.  
"He's wearing a hearing aid!  The poor man couldn't hear you."  

Scully watched as Mulder froze.  They had strict orders not to 
blow their cover under any circumstances.  If Skinner found out 
he'd been made by a couple of fashion-conscious shoe 
fanatics, Mulder would be back on wiretap duty for a month.

Still, it was like a tailor-made excuse.  Scully murmured into her 
mike.  "Use it to your advantage.  Pretend you really didn't hear 
what they said."  She knew he understood her when his hands 
started moving again.  

As he finished buckling the shoe on Laverne's other foot, she 
tapped him on the shoulder.  When he raised his head, she 
leaned into his face, speaking slowly and loudly.  "Dol-chay and 
Gah-bah-nah."  

Scully was surprised the woman didn't use hand signals, too.

Mulder smiled, making an attempt to keep up appearances, but 
Scully recognized his panic face.  He stood and moved over to 
the table, clearly waiting for rescue.

Scully wasted no time.  "The white, almost-flat sandal with the 
really short heel sitting farther toward the toes."  He reached 
for a sling-back.  "No, three to your left, looks like a flip-flop 
with a heel."

He plucked it off the shelf and held out it, receiving a smile of 
approval.  "I'll be right back."  He returned it to the shelf 
before heading to the stock room.

Scully watched Laverne as she strutted around the little store in 
her Vera Wang's.  The woman obviously knew a good pair of 
shoes.  They fit her beautifully and did great things for her 
calves.  Scully thought about coming back when she was off 
duty to try on some Vera's... and whatever else happened to 
catch her attention.

The curtain rings rattled as Mulder entered, stuffing the hated 
gloves into his pocket.  "I feel like Al Bundy out there."

Scully frowned.  "Selling shoes makes you feel like a serial 
killer?"  She hoped he wasn't experiencing any murderous 
impulses toward the customers.

"Not Ted Bundy--Al."  

She tried to place the name but had no idea what he was 
talking about.  

"'Married With Children?'" he offered.

"Oh, you mean that new guy in Accounting?"

He rolled his eyes.  "Never mind."  He disappeared down a row 
of storage shelves.  "What is it with women and shoes, 
anyway?  Talk about a fetish."

"Must I remind you we're here looking for a *man*?"

He emerged with another box.  "But at least the man knows 
what he's looking for.  He won't come in and try on a dozen 
pairs before he decides."  She raised her eyebrow at him but 
forgave the chauvinistic jab when his scowl comically mutated 
into a grin just before he turned to cross the threshold onto the 
sales floor.  She wasn't sure how much longer he was going to 
last.

Lucy seemed to be watching Mulder very intently as he walked 
toward her.  As soon as he'd donned his gloves and knelt down 
to remove the Vera Wang's from Laverne's feet, Lucy leaned 
toward her companion.

"Did you notice the size of his feet?" she stage-whispered.  

Laverne tilted closer.  "No!"  She looked down.  "Size twelve?"

"At least.  And did you see his hands before he put the gloves 
on?  VERY long fingers."

"So, you think..?"

"Oh, most definitely.  As he was walking back here just now?  
Coat flapping open, the wash of air against the slacks--  Very 
impressive profile, if you take my meaning."  Lucy nodded 
rapidly several times.

Laverne glanced sideways at Mulder.  "You observant little 
hussy.  I'll be watching for that."

Scully suddenly wished Mulder really was hard of hearing.  
From the set of his shoulders, she could tell that he'd 
understood the gist of their conversation.

He finished fastening the kitten-heel sandals on Lucy's feet and 
gave the two women a stiff smile.  They smiled back innocently, 
apparently under the illusion that he hadn't heard a word they'd 
said.  

The moment might have grown uncomfortable if Laverne hadn't 
hopped out of the chair in her stocking feet and trotted to a side 
table.  "Lucy, look!  They have Jimmy's!"

"Jimmy's what?"

The blonde tsked.  "Jimmy Choo shoes, silly.  I've seen 
pictures before but I'd heard they were only sold in their own 
name brand stores.  I didn't know they were branching out.  
You really *must* try a pair.  Sinfully expensive but so 
wonderfully quirky."

"They look terribly impractical," Lucy replied.  "Who wears 
them?"

"Who wears them?" Laverne exclaimed.  "Who doesn't!"

Scully had seen those earlier and been sorely tempted.  It was 
probably a good thing there'd been no time to shop.  Her shoe 
budget would never stretch to cover three-hundred-dollar-plus 
Jimmy's.  Besides, where would she wear them?  It wasn't as if 
her social calendar was packed with formal events.

Lucy decided against the Jimmy's, but thought she might try 
the camel Betsey Johnson pump with the darling bow and the 
cone heel.  Scully managed to feed the info to Mulder with only 
a couple of minor missteps.  As soon as he'd turned away from 
the two women, he unobtrusively buttoned his suit jacket and 
then hastened to the back room.

On his way through the curtain, he expelled a deep breath but 
didn't meet Scully's eyes.  Even though they'd had this 
conversation a couple of times on boring stakeouts, she had 
never quite convinced him that women engaged in such 
speculation about male body parts.  After the giggling 
teenagers earlier in the day and these two, with their whispers 
loud enough to be heard without a mike, he couldn't help but 
believe.  Not that *she'd* ever talked about her partner with 
other women, but back in college...  Besides, after years of 
seeing Mulder's very fine ass bent over the file cabinet 
drawers, she'd developed a preference for his rear view.  

The shoes Mulder needed were on the top shelf of an aisle 
right in Scully's line of sight.  She took the opportunity to 
indulge herself as he climbed the ladder and stretched for the 
right box.  Yep, a fine pair of gluteous maximus if she ever saw 
them.  She made it a point to be staring at the monitor when he 
climbed back down again.
 
Mulder returned to the sales floor--jacket still buttoned--in time 
for Scully to catch Laverne's pronouncement.  

"Life is too short.  Buy the shoes."  

Scully couldn't have agreed more, but apparently Lucy didn't.

"I just don't know," she dithered.  "They're terribly pricey.  How 
would I justify-- I'll think about it.  Oooh!"  She pointed at a 
dark-blue, impossibly high, stiletto pump.  "Is that Manolo?  I 
really *must* try it!"

"Very well, ma'am.  I'll be right back.  Again."

Mulder's voice was tired, flat, barely hanging onto the edge of 
courtesy, the flirting tone gone.  He wasn't having fun anymore.  
It made Scully feel a bit guilty for checking out his ass when his 
good humor was obviously waning.  But only a little bit.

The parade of shoes seemed to go on forever.  Scully kept one 
eye on other customers as they entered and exited while Marc 
Jacobs, Manolo Blahnik, Cynthia Rowley and more Jimmy's 
were tried on and rejected.  Every shoe color and style 
imaginable were represented, as well as some Scully had 
never seen before.  Mulder no longer spoke to her during his 
trips into the stock room, simply scanning the shelves rapidly 
until he found what he needed, then yanking the box down and 
marching back out.  He eventually stopped trying to return all 
the boxes to the storeroom and left them on the sales floor, to 
Mr. Richard's undisguised annoyance.  The two men had 
already engaged in a minor sotto voce skirmish because "Mr. 
Fox" wasn't pushing his customers to buy more accessories.  
Mulder pointed out that he needed to actually sell some shoes 
first, and besides, pimping purses wasn't in his job description.  
Scully wasn't willing to bet on who would crack first if the 
killer didn't show up soon.  

She was so focused on the monitors, she jumped when her cell 
phone rang.  She pushed up one side of the headphones in 
order to answer.  

"You and Mulder can stand down," Skinner said.  "The perp 
was caught making a purchase at another store in Chevy 
Chase.  Believe it or not, he actually had the missing shoes in 
his car trunk."

"Mulder will be pleased to hear it," she replied.  Skinner went 
on to give her the location and time for the debriefing--six 
o'clock--which struck Scully as rather short notice.  It was 
already a little past five.  

She was just about to hang up when something occurred to 
her: Eisentrout should've been the one calling.  Skinner 
wouldn't have made the call personally without a good reason.  
She had a feeling Mulder's earlier jabs at the SAC were about 
to bite them on the ass.

"Sir?" she asked, hesitantly.  "What time was he caught?"

There was a long pause.  Skinner cleared his throat, which was 
never a good sign.  "Shortly before two o'clock."

Scully closed her eyes.  That was over three hours ago--before 
the wedding party and the current fashionistas.  After the day 
he'd had, Mulder would probably blow a blood vessel when she 
told him.  She wanted to launch into her views on Eisentrout's 
professionalism, but that would only lead to questions about 
what provoked him in the first place.  Sometimes you had to 
pick your battles.  If only Mulder could get that through his 
head.

"Thanks for the call, Sir." She hoped Skinner couldn't hear her 
exasperation.  "We'll be sure to attend the debriefing, even 
though we won't have anything to contribute."

After a gruff acknowledgement, Skinner hung up.

Scully took the headphones off and set them on the table.  No 
need to keep tabs on the store anymore.  She glanced at the 
monitors.  Mulder was removing perhaps the tenth pair of heels 
from Laverne's feet.  He'd be coming back for more shoes in a 
minute.  Scully met him near the door and beckoned him 
farther into the stock room.

"Skinner just called," she murmured.  "The perp was caught.  
We have to be at the debriefing in less than an hour."

Mulder leaned his head back, eyes closed.  His whispered 
"Thank you" didn't appear to be directed at her.  She waited for 
his mind to catch up with what she'd said.  When it did, his 
eyes popped open again.  He squinted at her.

"Skinner?"

Scully nodded.  

"How long ago?"

Damn his intuition.  She knew he wasn't asking when their boss 
had called.  "Over three hours."  

"Son of a bitch."  Mulder scrubbed his palms over his face, but 
that was all he said.  It was a milder reaction than she'd 
anticipated.

He took a deep breath, blew it out, then smacked his hands 
together, rubbing them briskly.  "Right."  He turned around and 
marched back into the store so fast, it took a moment for Scully 
to catch on and follow.  By the time she pushed aside the 
curtain and peeked out, Mulder was approaching his erstwhile 
customers with a melancholy smile on his face.

"Ladies, to my everlasting regret, a family emergency has come 
to my attention and I must leave you in the much-more-capable 
hands of Mr. Richard--"

Laverne waved him to a halt.  "Oh, there's no need to do that."

"She's right," Lucy agreed.  "We should get going."  She 
glanced at her watch.  "We still have three more stores to hit 
and it's already after five."

Mulder scanned the assortment of heels and sandals still 
scattered around their feet as the women slipped back into their 
own shoes.  "Which pairs would you like boxed up?"

Laverne smiled at his offer.  "We were just looking. Thanks for 
your help, though."

"We'd never be able to afford *these* shoes," her friend 
concurred.  "We just wanted to see what they were like."

Mulder's mouth dropped open. 

Lucy gestured at the floor.  "Wait.  We should help clean up.  I 
mean, all these shoes..."

Laverne clasped the brunette's arm in a firm grip and guided 
her toward the door.  "No no, dear.  That's why they pay him 
the big bucks.  Let's stop by Louis Vuitton first.  Maybe I can 
score a new handbag.  This one is seriously last year."

"Aren't those bags rather dear?"

"Of course they are, but it never hurts to look."

Scully walked over to stand beside Mulder, resisting the urge to 
reach up and push his sagging jaw shut.  They watched the two 
chattering women exit the store, passing by the window on their 
way to further shopping adventures.  

She looked around at the sea of boxes on the floor, shoes 
spilling out everywhere; lying on their sides, perched one on 
top of another, kicked underneath the chairs.  There were 
probably a dozen different styles scattered about, the most 
expensive shoes the store had to offer.  Scully picked up a cute 
Cynthia Rowley burgundy pump with a strappy, looped cut-out 
all along the sides and across the toe, then tapped Mulder on 
the shoulder.  He turned stunned eyes toward her.  She held up 
the shoe.  

"Do you have this in a size 5?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

THE END

Footwear disclaimer:  Since both of us are pretty much clueless 
about fashionable shoes (especially from the time period in 
question), and since both of our best experts were off-limits due 
to being the recipients of this story, we humbly apologize if we 
appear to have taken certain liberties with the timeline or the 
footwear.  It probably wasn't intentional.  

More shoe info than you can kick a heel at is available on these 
sites:
http://www.footcandyshoes.com 
http://www.jimmychoo.com
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=1435521

THE END

Feedback:  bellefleur1013@yahoo.com & 
mimic117@yahoo.com