One Day in Alexandria

Fandom: the X-Files

Category/Rated: G and very silly, but not necessarily in that order.

Year/Length: ~712 words

Disclaimer: Not mine, no profit, only having fun.

Summary: Life is never dull in the vicinity of a double agent and hired assassin.

Author's Notes: This apologyfic was written for the Fight Club. That will teach me.

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Alex looked around the apartment and his heart sank. It was happening again.

He'd put on his tightest, blackest leather, stuck weapons all over his person in subtle ways, and spent a good forty minutes ensuring that they were only just visible. He'd got the lube, he'd got the spatula, and he was ready for action.

Where was Mulder?

The kitchen was empty...well, kinda empty anyway. Absently he drew his Glock and blew a hole through the roach he had spotted scurrying for the dark safety behind the fridge.

No Mulder anyway, and he'd apologize to the neighbors later, if they survived.

Turning, he headed to the bedroom.

Satin sheets lay on the bed, almost tidy. The cuffs and the whip had been polished, and the egg beater lay ready. Mulder was not around, unless he'd crammed himself into the closet for some unknown reason.

Brightening, Alex checked the closet. Nope... Not a Mulder to be seen. Idly, he flicked a throwing knife at the rat that was nibbling on Mulder's tap shoes, skewering it to the wooden floor. The blood made an artistic addition to the decor.

Smiling to himself, he moved on. There was nothing he could do here until Mulder came back.

The bathroom was his next stop. No Mulder to be seen there, though the make-up left in the basin gave notice of his recent occupation. Alex screwed the top back onto the mascara and thought 'What a slut!' to himself as he nonchalantly garroted the flukeman that reared from the toilet bowl as he passed.

Returning to the living room, and clubbing to death the two ninjas that leapt out from behind the curtains, he sat down on Mulder's couch and prepared to wait. The couch had a life of its own, sticky and somewhat smelly, but Alex liked it. It reminded him of Mulder.

Fumbling for the remote. Alex prepared himself to wait for his beloved. He was just dozing off to the strains of ' Little House on the Prairie' when the door opened, and Mulder entered.

"Alex," Mulder observed, perkily.

"Mulder," returned the rugged and sexy assassin.

They paused. What more remained to be said? Alex surveyed the groceries that Mulder was carrying and waited, but Mulder didn't seem ready to offer any explanation for them.

Finally, as Mulder seemed intent on unpacking his groceries, Alex snapped.

"Hey! What about me? Shady triple agents have needs too. How can you be so careless of my feelings."

Mulder looked up from where he was stacking cans of beans, cabbages and a cucumber.

"I just found myself something to do that would be fun. That's all. You're away so much that I don't even know who you are any more. Now I'm preparing to immerse myself in my new hobby. If you have plans to make sex, you're just gonna have to wait." A single stride and Alex had the pouting G-man shoved back against the counter, and was demanding his response with mouth and hands.

Struggling against the ominous presence of his lover and nemesis, Mulder writhed, wriggled and paused to stomp on a snake or two that were oozing from the garbage disposal unit. Then he pushed Alex away, beating at the broad chest with his tiny fists.

"You must understand that I have needs too. I'm tired of being second best." Alex seemed stunned. He hadn't realized that Mulder rated himself so highly.

"What have you done. Are you telling me that something has come between us?" Deftly he reached down, fondling the two things that had come between them, and eliciting gasps and soggy patches on the front of their pants, but not necessarily in that order.

Mulder laid down the spoon with which he had been eating cold beans direct from the can and led Alex to his computer.

"Look. I'm an author now. There, I have a page of my own. I'm changing my diet, as an inspiration. I'm part of an internet community now."

And when Alex looked, he realized that there was no way he could compete.

He knew that he had lost his lover to slash. The evidence was there on the screen in tasteful, yet bilious green. He read the logo, and quailed.

"The Fart Club."


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