elrhiarhodan

Title: Retail Therapy I - The Perfect Pair of Shoes (Kink Bingo - Foot/Shoe Fetish)
Author:

elrhiarhodan
Rating: NC-17 (See W/E/T)
Fandom: White Collar, no spoilers
Characters/Pairings: Neal Caffrey, Peter Burke, Elizabeth Burke, P/E/N - OT3 (Paladin 'verse PWP)
Warnings/Enticements/Triggers: Shoe Fetish, Shopping at Barney’s New York, hints of cross-dressing and corset!kink
Word Count: ~3000
Summary: Written for a prompt from the awesome

hoosierbitch, Neal and Elizabeth, Shopping. This was supposed to be a ficlet for my latest PromptFest, but it turned EPIC. In short, it is sale time at Barney’s New York, and Elizabeth has her eyes on at least two pair of Christian Louboutins with five-inch high heels.

For

kink_bingo, Foot/Shoe Fetish.

Unbeta’d and thus probably full of errors. Comments and criticisms are loved and adored.

ETA - Due the the unprecedented response, I am writing a sequel to this, wherein El and Neal shop for the frilly bits.
____________

"Hi honey." El leaned over Peter's desk and gave him a kiss, and then handed him a brown bag.

"What's this?"

"Your sandwich. Deviled ham, just what you like."

"But I thought I was going to take you out today. It’s Friday and I cleared the decks for a nice long lunch."

"I'm sorry - but there's a once-a-year sale at Barney's. It starts today, and if I wait, all the good stuff will be gone." El bit her lip, feeling just a trifle guilty at disappointing her husband. “Unless you'd like to come with me?" As guilty as she felt, dragging Peter along would be a disaster.

Thankfully, her husband, her super smart husband knew his own limitations and tolerances. "No," he sighed. "Deviled ham it is." He came out from behind his desk to escort El downstairs and was surprised to find his partner waiting for his wife, hat on his head at a jaunty angle.

"Ready, Elizabeth?"

Peter turned to El and tried to lay down the law. "You are not taking Neal shopping in the middle of a work day."

"Peter! You said you weren't busy...I don't see why I can't borrow Neal for a few hours." She lightly slapped at Peter's arm. "Besides, I'll need someone to carry my packages."

"Peter - come on. It's Barney's..." Neal’s voice rose in a slight whine, like Satchmo’s when he was begging for table scraps.

Truthfully, Peter didn't mind Neal going shopping with El, but there was still such a thing as office discipline. "Neal - an hour. You have an hour."

"Peter!" Elizabeth gave him The Look - the one that only married women seem to have. He had no ability to stand against it...it actually frightened him sometimes.

“Okay, two hours, but I’m going to want the report on that First National mortgage fraud cases before you leave for the day.”

Neal tried to hide his smile. Peter was playing it up for the rest of the office - the First National report had been finished, polished and turned in three days ago. And Peter knew quite well that Neal would not be back in the office today. He’d be lucky to see either him or his wife sometime before Saturday afternoon unless he decided to head to Neal’s apartment.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Neal relaxed against the backseat of the cab, which was reasonably clean.

“Shoes…” Elizabeth smiled, wicked and seductive and Neal felt like he was about to explode right there, in his pants, in the barely less than public NYC medallion cab.

“Someone I know, actually two someones did a very good job of wreaking my favorite pair of Christian Louboutins a few weeks ago, and they need to be replaced. I have these in mind.” She pulled out a printout of a pair of five inch high cranberry pink silk satin strappy mules.

Neal looked at them, swallowed hard, looked at Elizabeth, at her feet, at her face and finally back at the printout. “I don’t think you have anything in your wardrobe to match these, what did you have in mind?”

Elizabeth leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Lingerie. Just lingerie.” Neal turned to her, eyes wide, pupils mere pinpricks in a sea of icy blue. She licked his lips and bit down hard enough to mark, but not to draw blood. “What do you think of that, Mr. Caffrey?”

Neal worried the bruise with his teeth and his tongue. “Mrs. Burke, I think that is a most excellent, excellent idea.”

She handed Neal another printout. "What do you think of these?"

It felt like all of the patchouli-scented air in the cab had been sucked out. These shoes were also Christian Louboutin, with five-inch heels. Instead of strappy satin mules, they were black leather peep-toe pumps, covered from stiletto heel to the very tip with silver studs, the contrast between the relatively sedate styling and the outrageous decoration was dangerously erotic.

“I hope they have these in my size. Peter loves toe cleavage.”

“I think it’s pretty hot too.” Neal couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to say.

El smirked. “You have no idea how much Peter likes toe cleavage. I can reduce him to a stuttering mass of sweating boy with the right amount of toe cleavage. He’s gets like you when you see him in his bifocals, except he has less self-control than you do.”

Something went through Neal, something wicked and utterly sexual. “Do you think we’ll have time for pedicures afterwards?”

Elizabeth’s eyes light up. “Neal Caffrey, are you thinking what I think you’re thinking?”

He handed her back the pictures of the Louboutins. “I don’t think they’ll have these in my size, but maybe we can find something that will put him to the test.”

“Hmmm, not today...let’s stay focused. Today it’s Elizabeth’s shoes and lingerie. Tomorrow, it’s Neal, pedicure, shoes and lingerie.”

His head whipped around. “Lingerie - Elizabeth. That’s not really a look for me.”

“Oh, not something frilly and emasculating. I was thinking of a corset maybe. You’ve certainly got the waist for it. Something in black satin or velvet, with piping to match your eyes.”

Neal considered the possibilities, and he found them … attractive. “That would have to be a custom item, certainly. Do you really think Peter would like me in one?”

“Honey...I think you could have your revenge for those glasses in a heartbeat. And if you let him put it on you, there’s no telling what you could get out of him.” Elizabeth was practically gleeful at the idea. “Of course, you’d have to survive the fucking first.”

Her voice must have gotten a bit too loud, because the cabbie hit the brakes and cursed in a language that neither of them were familiar with.

Both of them looked down at the dirty footwell, slightly abashed. Only slightly.

Midday traffic was surprisingly light, and they made it to Barney’s without further incident or accident. The store was crowded but not mobbed. Sales at Barney’s weren’t heavily publicized, but those in the know, knew. Neal navigated to the elevator bank, holding onto Elizabeth’s hand. He felt strangely free, anonymous - just another well-dressed man among others, in the company of a very beautiful, very confident woman. He wrapped his arms around Elizabeth and rested his cheek on her head during the short ride to the fourth floor. It was a lovely moment of two minds in perfect sync, and he kissed the top of her head before the doors opened to a scene of controlled chaos.

Chaos was probably not the right word. There were no screaming or badly behaved customers, hassled or short tempered sales people, but the designer shoe department was busy in a hectic manner at odds with the normally sedate and genteel store on non-sale days.

Elizabeth found a seat, handed Neal the printouts. “Get to work. I didn’t bring you here to admire the scenery. I take a size five and a half in the Louboutins.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He gave her a little bow and went off to get her shoes.

She watched him turn the charm onto one of the more junior sales clerks - that swift, bright smile that could make nearly anyone want to get closer. The Social Engineer at work. She wouldn’t be surprised if the young man slipped Neal his phone number with the boxes of shoes.

It didn’t take more than a few minutes for the clerk to come back with a half-dozen boxes of shoes, which Neal quickly and efficiently relieved him of. The young man wanted to hover, but Neal handed him something green and he disappeared to take care of other customers.

Bringing Neal was definitely one of her better ideas.

The smile on Neal’s face was thoroughly dirty. “Give your phone and your headset.”

Elizabeth was puzzled but she complied. The new headset, a gift from Neal, was one of the ones that picked up subvocalizations, so the user could whisper and be heard clearly. As she took off her own shoes, Neal fitted the earpiece and dialed a number.

Peter sat at his desk thinking that he should have gone with Neal and Elizabeth, if only to keep both of them out of trouble. And then he thought...shopping, and he shuddered. He flipped idly through the case files in front of him - mortgage fraud, another boiler room scam but no exciting undercover opportunities (yet), and the results of a three-day surveillance report on a warehouse filled with counterfeit designer handbags.

When did work become so boring without Neal in the office? That question made him nervous. Neal was past the stage where he wanted to run – and he was pretty clear that he wanted the life he had with him and El. Their relationship still felt as strong and as good and as right as it did from the very first time they came together – no, it was actually better. He didn’t worry that Neal would leave him and El, but once that tracker came off, Neal had no reason to continue working with him other than the pleasure of his company. Peter saw the long years stretching out until his retirement without Neal by his side.

He shook his head and tried to banish the vaguely depressing thoughts. His father would say he was buying trouble when it wasn’t even on sale. Peter forced his attention back to the surveillance report when his cell phone rang. It was El - the tiny speaker trying its best to pound out the beats to that stupid rap song she and Neal loved so much.

“Hi hon - how’s the shopping going?”

“Hi Peter!” It wasn’t El, but a very happy and very devilish-sounding Neal. He had no clue how the man did it, but he could infuse more trouble into those two words than the entire Gotti crew could do on a year’s worth of wiretaps.

“Why are you calling me on my wife’s phone? Is everything all right?”

“Oh, Peter. Everything is just fine. We’re at Barney’s and Elizabeth’s about to try on this incredible pair of silk and satin mules.”

“Mules?” Peter had this image of his wife slipping into a pair of bedroom slippers shaped like Eyore.

He could hear a bit of exasperation in Neal’s voice. “Mules are backless shoes.”

“Oh, like clogs.” Peter felt kind of proud of himself, knowing that.

“Not hardly...and technically, these aren’t really mules, since the front is slightly opened. When she puts it on her foot, you’ll be able to see just a bit of the cleavage between the toes. Elizabeth told me that that is something you like.”

Peter felt himself go cold and then hot. He never thought he had a foot fetish until El had come home one day with a pair of black shoes that showed just the tiniest bit of space between the big toe and the index toe. He couldn’t stop staring at it, it was like a little bit of forbiddeness revealed to the world. He never could bring himself to ask her to wear those shoes when she went out in public with him, he thought he’d go crazy if he had to see that little bit of skin and dark space all evening long.

“Peter, are you with me?” Neal was laughing at him.

“You are NOT doing this to me, Neal Caffrey. You are not having phone sex with me while you are helping my wife try on shoes.”

“Well, you could always hang up. We promise not to call back.” He could hear El’s laughter in the background.

Peter got up and closed his office door, and the door to the conference room - times like this, he despised the fishbowl office. But disconnecting was not an option. Sitting back down, he swiveled to face the windows and prepared himself mentally for the exquisite torture that was Neal Caffrey.

“Tell me more about these mules. What do they look like.” He could play this cool, he knew he could.

Neal’s voice was low and sexy and even if he was reading from the telephone book, he could turn Peter on. “They are an icy dark pink satin, with straps across the top of the shoe that look like bondage ties that have just been undone. The heels are about five inches and will do incredible things to Elizabeth’s already incredible legs.”

Peter licked his lips. “Has she tried them on yet?”

“No, I am just about to slide it on onto her right foot. Her toes are pointed and she’s slipping into the shoe. It fits snug around her arch and instep, I bet it feels like when you push your cock into her pussy.”

Peter ground his teeth against the surging arousal. If he was smart, he’d hang up. In this, he wasn’t smart, he was a dumb as the log between his thighs.

“I’ve just put the left shoe on her foot, and I must say, I was wrong...they don’t look like loosened bondage straps - no, they look like her feet have just been tied by a Master. There’s just a little bit of skin and toe showing, and then a bit of skin on the top of her foot, but the best part is the way you can see just under the arch of her foot, another delicious and mysterious space.” Neal paused for breath, and Peter could tell that he wasn’t unaffected.

Licking his lips and trying to keep his hands off his cock, he asked Neal how El looked in them.

“Peter - she’s walking around, and my god...it’s ... it’s like she’s in control of the universe.”

He closed his eyes, imagining El strutting, hands on her hips, head thrown back, her ass tight while balancing on those heels, her leg muscles taut, her tiny ankles turned just so.

“Peter, are you there?”

“Yeah...I’m here. Barely.”

“Elizabeth wants to talk to you.”

There was a bit of rustling as they transferred the earpiece. “Peter?”

“Hi honey.” Could there be anything more banal to say? “The shoes sound, terrific.” Jeez, and you sound like an idiot.

“They are, Peter...they fit like a dream, and they are very, very comfortable. I’m almost as tall as Neal in them. But I’ve got a problem.”

“Problem?” Peter’s voice went up at least two octaves.

“The pink are insanely delicious...but I don’t have anything to wear them with.”

Peter’s mouth dropped opened at the though of El walking around naked, except for those shoes.

“They also come...” Peter thought his wife, his wicked wife, put special emphasis on the verb… “in black. Black satin with red heels.”

Every coherent thought left his brain, along with all the blood above his waistline. “I think I’m going to get both pair, and then we’ll head over to La Perla and try to get something that will match the pink.”

“La Perla?” The name sounded vaguely familiar. Handbags? Peter reached for the surveillance report and heard rustling as his wife and his lover exchanged the earpiece.

“Peter? You there?”

“Yeah - so El wants to get a handbag to match the pink shoes? Sounds nice.” He could practically hear Neal rolling his eyes.

“Peter - you’re thinking of La Furla - middle market Italian leather goods. La Perla is Italian lingerie. Very delicate, very expensive lingerie.”

“Oh.” There was nothing more he could say.

“You don’t have a problem with this? Me taking your wife to buy bras and panties and maybe a matching garter belt and corset, do you?”

“Corset?”

“Yeah - not really a foundation garment, something completely ornamental. Lots of lacy panels and satin straps.”

“Foundation garment?” Peter’s brain seemed to be two or three sentences behind the speed of sound.

“Elizabeth’s figure doesn’t need to be augmented or constrained by a corset. At least I don’t think so. All those panels and boning and grommets and tightly pulled laces are completely unnecessary for a woman with your wife’s shape.”

Peter felt himself grow dizzy and lightheaded at the image. Did Neal have any idea what he was doing to him?

“But back to the shoes. There’s another pair that Elizabeth’s trying on

“Wait a second…we were talking about underwear. I want to hear about the underwear.” It was Peter’s turn to whine.

“Tell you what, big boy. When we get to La Perla, we’ll call you back. Their dressing rooms are big enough for two, so Elizabeth will give me a private show.

The only sound that came from Peter’s mouth was a squeak.

“Do you want to hear about this other pair of shoes that Elizabeth has on now? They’re black leather with a peep toe…”

Peter just banged his head against the back of his chair and listened as Neal quietly drove him insane.

FIN
The Shoes