Disclaimer: Fox and Alex don't belong to us, and they never will. We reserve all rights to Mrs James, however. Note: Yes, there are holes in the plot. We don't know why Alex was in the supermarket. We don't know how he knew about the packing room. I guess it's just one of life's little X-Files. (Or maybe he's a regular at Safeway. ) fortuita@hotmail.com for feedback MUSTARD By Michelin and Fortuita Krycek glided silently through the brightly lit aisles, eyes taking in everything there was to be seen. He assessed the occasional grocery item, but rejected them all. His eyes flew wide when he reached the personal care aisle. An intimately familiar figure was picking something from the second bottom shelf. His eyes narrowed when he realised the product was even more intimately familiar, and he smirked. KY. He sauntered towards his erstwhile ex-partner, who seemed absorbed in the information on the pack, until he was standing close behind him. "KY, Mulder?" Mulder stiffened from head to foot, shock making his voice harsh. "Krycek?" "You know, Mulder," Alex said seductively, "there's a little packing room behind fruit n veg." The only part of Mulder that hadn't been stiff decided to follow the trend. He allowed himself to be herded down the aisle and through the fruit n veg to Alex's little packing room. His basket remained clenched in his nerveless fingers. As soon as they were inside Alex kicked the door with his foot, though Mulder noticed detachedly that it didn't quite stick, but bounced open a little. After that, he was incapable of noticing anything. Alex pushed him up against the wall and his shopping basket hit the floor with a clatter. No rational thoughts troubled him while he was being thoroughly kissed. Only when the first couple of buttons on his jeans were popped open did a hint of concentration return. And it could hardly have been called rational. With a move he had *not* learnt at the academy, he flipped their positions so that it was him holding Krycek against the wall. "Christ, Alex," he rebuked, pulling at the other man's fly, "be fair." Alex was quiescent during his partial disrobing. When his jeans were part way down his thighs he used Mulder's rather considerable distraction to flip them again. "I am being fair," he purred, efficiently finishing the job he'd started earlier. Mulder's head tipped back and his hands pushed against the wall. Knowing fingers were skimming up inside his t-shirt and he arched into them. Alex permitted him a few inches of space, but purely for his own purposes. With Mulder tight against him, he was easier to move. Alex manipulated him around and mulder found himself nose to the wall. He had just a second to get his hands up as a brace before he was pushed forward and his feet kicked apart. He heard a rattle and a muffled expletive. Something clicked to the ground, and Mulder wondered what it was. Krycek's "Fucking mustard" made it perfectly clear. Before he could swivel around to see what the hell was going on, cool slickness eased between his arse checcks. He braced his hands more firmly and released a little sigh. *** Meanwhile, back at the fruit n veg... Mrs Adele James eyed her jar of pickles. They were a lovely bit, and she was looking forward to having some at lunch. They did need something though. Something hit her foot. She looked down. Hm, Dijon mustard. Just what she fancied. She spent a minute or two contemplating how she could get all the way down to the ground. Just when she'd decided to risk a fall, a nice girl picked it up for her. "Thankyou, dear," she said comfortably, putting the mustard in her basket. That was all she needed, really. *** Mulder gasped and came. He leant against the wall trying to steady his breathing. Alex slipped out of him and he heard a few rustles of clothing. When he summoned the energy to turn around, Krycek was gone. He dazedly rearranged his shorts and jeans, checking the mark on the wall ruefully. Nothing he could do about that. Scooping up his basket he langourously wandered towards the register. He propped his hips against the counter while the girl did her work. He was gazing off into the distance glassy-eyed and completely missed her look of great suspicion and slight distaste when she gingerly scanned the partially used tube of KY. Mulder handed over some cash, idly glancing in his single bag of shopping. "Shit," he muttered. "Forgot the mustard." THE END fortuita@hotmail.com for feedback.