A Trip to the Market
by Laura Mason

An ABC story means: the story is 26 sentences long. Each sentence must start with a different letter of the alphabet, in order (tho you can start anywhere in the alphabet). So here ya go:

 "Xylitol -- what kind of ingredients are you eating in all this supposedly healthy food, MacLeod?" and he tossed the box disdainfully into the cart.

"Yams, yams...stop bitching, old man, or next time I'll leave you in the car with the window cracked."

"Zebra meat, can we find that in this benighted town?" A bewildered look from his companion, and Methos continued. "Best thing with yams. Cooks in Africa wouldn't dream of serving them separately."

"Despite your assumptions, old man, I'm not stupid. Enough! First of all, yams are native to this continent..."

"Good try, MacLeod, but the term refers to all kinds of tubers. How insular of you to assume that only good old American sweet potatoes count."

In a few moments, Methos would be so warmed to his topic that MacLeod wouldn't get a word in edgewise for the rest of the day. Just about time to change the subject, but he could hardly raise his voice loud enough to be heard over the old guy's ramblings.

"... kibbeh, that's what they'd call it there, but in Africa..."

"Listen, Methos, I need your advice. Make my casserole with canned yams, or would fresh sweet potatoes be better?"

"Now you want my advice?"

"Only because your vast wisdom has convinced me," he replied with his sweetest smile. Praying that the 'puppy eyes' would work as well as they usually did, he hedged his bets by picking up a long, thin zucchini from the bin they were passing.

"Quite effective, MacLeod. Really, you should patent the look."

"So what do you think?" he moved the vegetable suggestively toward his mouth, leering at Methos with the 'horny puppy' look that hadn't failed yet.

"Time to check out, MacLeod," was the husky reply as Methos licked his own lips, eyes focused on the zucchini.

"Until we do, think about this" and MacLeod closed his lips over the tip of the vegetable. Victory was never sweeter than when he saw Methos' eyes glaze over with pure lust.

"When we get back to the loft, Mac, you'll pay for this," Methos threatened as he subtly tried to adjust himself so he could actually make it out of the store.

 

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