Robin Wears Heels by Isabelle

Rating: PG

Fandom: Sex & the City

Ship: Carrie/Big

Quickie: Carrie and Big go shopping for shoes and have a little discussion about them.

Prompt: for verschreibsel, who requested it

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There comes a time in a woman's life when she realizes she is in desperate need of new shoes. Regardless of the fact that her closet if full of them and more than half have hardly had a proper all-nighter, the fact still remains – she needs new shoes.

"Where you off to?" Big asks as he sees me on my way out, shopping outfit on and a smile on my life.

"As great as you were last night, I'm slightly unsatisfied." I smile indulgently as his eyebrows do that 'I don't believe you, baby' look. So I waltz over to assure my man that my dissatisfaction has nothing to do with our bedroom antics. "Shoes. I need new ones."

His confusion melts into a smile. "For a moment there, I considered purchasing a Batman outfit."

I let out a laugh and throw my arms around him. The honeymoon period is just delightful. I'm too satisfied with life to write. "Only if I can be Robin."

"Kinky," he murmurs and kisses me. I pull back before my shoe-shopping trip turns into another round in the bedroom, because this girl really does need new shoes.

But he's undeterred and begins kissing my neck. "Once you get what you need," he murmurs between kisses. "You're putting on a fashion show for me."

I pull back once more, smiling happily. "Let me guess? Heels… and nothing else?"

"Now you see, that type of fashion I can be a fan of," he agrees, and I laugh. "Who are you meeting?"

"Samantha, she's in desperate need of new shoes, too," I inform him, slipping on the dainty gloves I was able to find in a sample sale earlier this week. He takes a moment to remove the glove I have just put on and kisses my hand, giving me a coy look from between his lashes.

Damn. But I'm determined.

"I'm seriously considering the cape," he states, not pleased that he hasn't been able to convince me to stay in on this fine Saturday morning with him to read the times and have coffee.

"You see, that alone makes me want to leave and see what I come home to."

He smirks and kisses me once more, then turns me and gives me a light tap on the ass, encouraging me to go. I replace my glove and waltz to the door, throwing one last look his way. He winks back, having fully expected my last glance.

Later that day, I start thinking: if a relationship can't be saved with a cape – can it be saved by shoes? I know mine certainly was.