Red Shoes

Part One

Donna tried on the shoes. They were a bit tight. She took them off and reached up to put the box back on the shelf; a hand took the box and did it for her.

"Doctor!" she said, surprised. "I thought you were at the other end of the store! What are you doing here?"

Grinning at her, he walked away. She shook her head. "That was odd."

"What was?"

She shrieked and looked around. The Doctor was standing just behind her, but there was something different about him. Oh, of course! He wasn't wearing his tie. He had been wearing it when he walked away … in the other direction.

"How in the world …?"

He quirked his eyebrow at her. "I'm sorry?"

"You were just over there a minute ago, going that way. How did you get behind me?"

"I just came over to ask if you like these new shoes." He lifted his foot to show her. "What do you think?"

She blinked several times before replying. "They're nice. Yeah, they're nice."

"Good. Brilliant. I'll buy them." He looked at her as if trying to figure out why she seemed confused. "Donna? Are you all right? Is something bothering you?"

"It's just … you must be a fast walker."

"It's the shoes." He pointed at them and smiled broadly. "Have you finished yet?"

"Are you kidding? I've only looked at two aisles out of the three hundred they have here. I'll be looking for several more hours. Why don't you go tinker with the Tardis?"

"I think I will. Take your time."

"Molto bene," Donna said with a smile. "Oi, you're rubbing off on me, spaceman!"

"That's molto bene, isn't it?" He ducked as she tried to hit him, then turned to go. Donna watched him until he went around a corner, then went back to trying on shoes. A pair of dressy black heels caught her eye; she put them on and then walked around to see how they felt.

"Molto bene! You should buy those, Donna."

She spun around, wobbling, and the Doctor caught her arm. Now that was odd. He had his trench coat on, but he'd left it in the Tardis. She had seen him lay it on the console.

"All right, Doctor, tell me what's going on. How do you keep popping up like this?"

"I can't stay," he said. "Just remember: don't try on any of the red shoes."

"Why not? I like red!"

But he was already trotting away on those long legs. Donna was becoming concerned. Either she was losing her mind, or time was going wonky on her. Or … the Doctor was playing time-tricks. Which she thought he wasn't supposed to do because of paradoxes, but then again, this was the Doctor she was talking about. So why can't I try on the red shoes? It's probably some silly little game he's playing to keep himself occupied while he's waiting for me. I bet he said it so that I would try them on. He knows I like red. He's trying to help me out, in that backwards way of his.

She continued browsing the aisles, but she couldn't get the thought of red shoes out of her mind. Then she found them: six whole rows of every shoe imaginable, all of them different shades of red, from almost-pink to deep scarlet. She stood for a moment, casting about in her mind what she should do, when it hit her like a thunderbolt. The shoes the Doctor showed me were red. He was wearing red shoes.

So, he did want her to get some red shoes. Probably so they would match. He had suggested against it because he knew she wouldn't listen if he told her to buy them. Or something. Who knows what goes through that spaceman's mind? And who cares? These shoes are gorgeous!

She decided that, just to be on the safe side, she would only pick one pair, and she would only put one shoe on to see how it fit before she got back to the Tardis. She scanned the rows slowly and felt her resolve weakening. There were so many of them! And she liked almost all of them! There were those leather sandals in a low-toned autumn red, and those brilliant high heels with tiny rosettes, and red trainers like the Doctor sometimes wore, and Oh! Those magnificent dark-red shoes with just a tiny bit of heel but a whole lot of style. She grew a bit dazed as she gathered box after box in her arms and shoved them into the trolley. She would try them on at the end of this row; she didn't want to keep going back and forth.

Finally she sat down and pulled the dark red pair out. She didn't put them on at first, just admired them. She couldn't wait to show the Doctor, and she did hope he wouldn't be cross. After all, he'd had red shoes too. At last she couldn't bear it any longer. She slipped the shoes on. They fit like a dream, and she walked around in them, admiring the way they made her feet feel light and free. She didn't want to take them off. It was right about this time that she realized it was odd for the Doctor to have been still wearing the shoes he had shown her. Why hadn't he put them back in the box first, shown them to her, then paid and put them on? Well, whatever. These were perfect and she was going to buy them now. She left the trolley and started out for the checking counter, which was exactly between the men's and women's sections of the store.

About halfway there, her left foot started twitching. Then her right. It felt for all the world like her feet were trying to dance without her permission. Not that she minded. Dancing sounded wonderful. No, stop it, she told herself. This is weird. Ow! There they go again! She sat down, but her feet rebelled and she found herself standing again. The right foot tapped the floor, then the left foot, then she was doing a small jig. Maybe this is what the Doctor was talking about? Why can't he just be plain and give me a reasonable explanation? Like, the red shoes will start dancing you around? "Oh, help!"

What was that noise? Music? Yes, it sounded like a polka. She couldn't tell if it was in her head or coming from somewhere nearby, but her feet responded accordingly.

"Blast it!" Donna shouted. "Someone come and get these off of me!" Then she remembered that the store was automated and there were no employees to hear her. Well, she would just have to figure out a way to do it herself. She looked around as the music changed to a fast, pulsing beat. Everything was a blur as she began to whirl around, faster and faster. "This has to stop!" she shrieked.

To Be Continued ...