From: raietta@www.myspace.com Reply-To: mk_waffers@egroups.com To: mk_waffers@egroups.com Subject: [waffers] Happy Thanksgiving! Date: Thu, 23 Nov 2000 18:42:54 -0000 Hi, guys!! Sigh, am finally on my Thanksgiving Break, and am feeling the joy of being able to sit on my ass all day long and do nothing-- rapture! Bliss! Delight! And I finally get to post things to this ML!! Wahoo!! (more bliss, rapture, and delight) So, to those of you who celebrate it, HAPPY THANKSGIVING!!!! ;-()= <-- (that's supposed to be a turkey. My e-mail graphics suck, I know) And to those of you who don't celebrate it, you ain't missin' much, in my opinion. ;0) I hate cranberry sauce. ("I love it!" my Mulder fictive is whispering to me over my shoulder as I type this.) I hate yams. ("Yams are great!" Mulder whispers to me again, only a bit louder, this time.) I hate all kinds of pie, but especially pumpkin. ("That's messed up," Mulder says. "Shut up, Mulder," I say, annoyed. "Well, it is," Mulder insists, and I turn to glare at him. He is pouting over by the window, looking quite sulky. "Go away," I order him, but he just raises his eyebrows at me and deliberately seats himself on the computer desk and grins at me. Creep.) But I really, really, *really* hate, above all else, turkey and stuffing. Gross, gross, gross! And that's basically what Thanksgiving is all about. "I can't believe you don't like turkey and stuffing," Mulder says, shaking his head in a pantomime of disbelief. "It's icky," I reply, quite primly, and Mulder just rolls his eyes. "Well, it is," I mutter, and try to ignore him. Mulder hates being ignored, though. Just ask Scully. ("He hates it," Scully says. Thanks, Scully. "You're welcome," Scully replies, smiling.) So, to stop my ignoring him, Mulder leans way over on the desk, and obstructs my view of the computer monitor. "Cut it out!" I shout. Man, this guy is exasperating. "Whatcha writing, now, Raie?" he asks, peering at the monitor, pretending to be interested. "Nothing, you clod! I'm, not *writing* anything, I'm *trying* to *type* something on the computer, but you keep on interrupting me! So cut it out!" "I'm not doing anything," Mulder protests, oh so innocently, and I imagine strangling him with his tie. "I'm just sitting here, watching you type. Is that so wrong?" "Mulder!" "Well, is it?" Frantically, I cast beseeching eyes to Scully, who is reading the newspaper, and she just shrugs at me. "Sorry Raie, can't help you there." Dammit! "Krycek!" I shout, as loudly as possible. Mulder, who is sitting too close to me to withstand my bellows, winces as his eardrums shatter. "Krycek! Get over here!" "Yeah?" Alex pops his head through the doorway, blinking green eyes at me. "What's up?" He is, I can see, munching on a slice of pumpkin pie. "Mulder's annoying me," I whine, suddenly sounding like I've reverted to the status of a five-year-old. "Make him go away!" "Fox..." Alex begins wearily, and Mulder raises his hands protestingly. "I'm not doing anything! I'm just sitting here, trying to have a nice, mature conversation with Raietta, and she keeps on hollering at me." "I am trying," I say to him frostily, "to type up a nice e-post to the WAFFers ML, but you keep on interrupting me." "Doesn't look like you're writing much of anything to anyone, if you ask me," Mulder says skeptically, looking at the screen. "Krycek!" I shout, desperately. "Get him out of here!" Scully snickers. "Okay, Fox," Krycek says, putting down his plate of pie. "Time to leave poor Raietta alone." "But I'm not *doing* anything!" Mulder cries, looking stung. "I just wanna watch her type stuff! Is that such a crime? I just want to spend some quality time with my good ol' pal, Raie. Is that so wrong?" "C'mon," Krycek says grimly, and when Mulder refuses to budge, he slides his arms under Mulder's knees and around his shoulders and, Mulder squeaking indignantly, sweeps him up from the desk and holds him in his arms in a classic fairy tale pose. "Alex! Put me down! This is damn embarrassing!" Mulder shouts. I almost expect him to start kicking his legs, but he holds onto what shred of maturity he still possesses and keeps still. "You should have thought of that before you started pestering Raietta," Krycek replies. Scully snickers again, from behind her paper. "C'mon, we're leaving." "God dammit, I will NOT be carried around like some weak little feminine princess in a fairy tale, it's a threat to my manhood!" Mulder squalls. "Put me down!!!" "Quit wriggling!" Krycek shouts, struggling to hold Mulder up as he wriggles in his arms. "I'm gonna drop you!" "Good! Lemme go!" "Listen!" Krycek yells, and Mulder stops wiggling around for a moment to gape at him. "If you stop struggling, and leave quietly with me, we can go get some pie in the kitchen." Mulder considers this for a moment. "Pie?" "Very yummy pie. Pumpkin pie. Then, when we're done, we can go bother Araxdelan. She could use a break." Mulder mulls over this some more. Scully rolls her eyes from behind the newspaper. "Okay. Pie it is! Then, off to annoy Araxdelan!" "Sounds like a plan to me," Alex grins, and carries Mulder out the door. Thank God. Sorry, Rax! As your second-in-command, I know that siccing an annoying Mulder on you isn't very nice *or* loyal, but if I sent him to Aris, she'd kill me. I sent Mulder and Krycek to her place one time, to offer her roses, and it didn't turn out too well. Well, family is here, demanding my attention, so I must be off. I think I'll go eat a chocolate orange. Yum! Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! --Jess