Thank You for Shopping

Disclaimer: I don't own the X-Files, if you were curious.

The goddamn Care Bear was staring at her.

Dana Scully resisted the urge to stab it with...she surveyed her cart. A what? What would make a good stabbing implement?

Ah, yes. She grabbed the peanut butter.

Wait.

Peanut butter jars were round, right? Yes, yes they were, she ascertained after a quick mental scan of her geometrical knowledge. She put the jar back down and made the decision to get the fuck out of the toy aisle.

Scully was on a quest for socks. At least, that had been the plan when she and her partner had walked through the automatic doors. She thought she might have been sane when she had entered. Now she wasn't so sure.

Wal-Mart was some consumer-friendly brand of the devil, she determined. Scully already had a cart filled with things she was fairly certain she didn't need, but felt compelled to purchase anyway. It didn't help matters that this particular store was open twenty-four hours, and that it was going on three am. She had lost Mulder somewhere in the pet-care section what seemed like hours ago, and at this point had given up hope that she would ever see him again.

The goddamn Care Bear was still staring at her. She could feel its beady plastic eyes at the back of her skull, boring into her brain, trying to control her thoughts...

"Get a grip!" she informed herself firmly, and steadfastly began to push the cart with the gimpy wheel out of the toy section. How she had ended up in the toy section, she had yet to figure out. All that mattered was getting out of there as fast as she could, and possibly making it to the safe haven of the checkout without spending too much more money.

Didn't I come in here for socks?

Scully couldn't remember. Socks sounded right. Carefully, she reached into the cart and shifted around the miscellaneous crap. No socks. With a sigh, she maneuvered the cart to Women's Clothing. At least it appeared safer than Toys. Dana Scully could easily fall prey to cleverly discounted decorative stuffed animals. For once, she was grateful that Mulder was not with her. They would have probably acquired an arsenal of Nerf toys by now.

"We need this." Fox Mulder shoved the needed item under her nose and tapped it for emphasis. "We. Need. This. Now. I need to own it. I have to have it." He tapped it again.

"Mulder."

"Now," he insisted.

"...Put it in the cart."

It turned out to be a Nerf rocket launcher and dart gun combination pack. It was very stylish, in a black and red plastic and foam sort of way, she had to admit. Mulder probably had plans to use it to shoot at anyone that came within five feet of his office. It was also probably on sale.

The gimpy cart's wheel screeched. She kicked at it absently.

"I need socks," declared Scully, and rounded the corner to where she thought the socks might be. Wal-Mart was confusing. She tried to remember how they had ended up there in the first place.

She thought socks may have had something to do with it, but she couldn't quite remember anymore. In the meantime, she turned the cart into Housewares, eyeing an appealingly priced martini glass set.

"Do you even like martinis?" Mulder asked, looking over her shoulder as she poked at the glasses.

"I wouldn't be looking at a martini set if I didn't, would I?" Scully responded wisely. Truthfully, she was unsure if she liked martinis. What was a martini again? She stuck the glass set into the cart. "Socks," she said firmly.

"Socks," Mulder repeated. "Socks are good."

"Yes."

"Where are socks?"

"I don't know."

She shoved the cart forward, determined to find some socks. She wasn't sure why she was looking for socks anymore.

"Socks."

After all, that was what she had come in here for. Or was it rocks? Rocks sounded like socks. Scully's gimpy cart surrendered to her will, and she turned into Gardening.