Condiments
Scully watched Mulder, a look of profound disgust etched all over her face.
Her partner dribbled chocolate syrup over a plate of nachos with boyish glee.
"That's just sick," she said, staring at her own food, her appetite gone.
Mulder looked up. "Well, you had raspberry pecan dressing on your salad once."
"That was salad. Not cheese and fried corn chips."
"So?"
"Besides, I thought you were going to paint your apartment lavender."
"That was a phase," Mulder said, shrugging. "And it hasn't been brought up in almost three years."
He was met with a snort.
"Oh, and what about your bee pollen kick?" Mulder queried in return.
"That was a legitimate diet plan."
"You can't even have bee pollen. Bees don't make pollen."
"Yes, but bees get pollen."
"Pollen of the bees."
"Yup."
Mulder let the silence settle briefly before saying with an air of announcerish pomp, "Meanwhile, Agent Mulder goes back to his deliciously normal nachos."
"With chocolate syrup."
"You eat unbuttered popcorn."
"You put peanut butter on chicken."
"It's healthy."
"Not if it's an entire jar of peanut butter on four chicken quarters."
"Hey, look, a distraction," Mulder said suddenly, pointing over Scully's shoulder. She looked.
When she turned back—
"Mulder!" she cried furiously. "You put syrup in my soup!"
He was unable to respond, incapacitated by his all-consuming, raucous laughter.
Scully glared.
"I…can't…believe…you fell…for that…" Mulder finally choked out, wiping tears from his eyes.
"It's not funny, Mulder," Scully said stonily.
Still chuckling, Mulder reached across the table and picked up her spoon with a great flourish. "Would you care for a taste of that, Miss Scully?"
A/N: Hmm…