For Ames - Chris/Lance and Office Depot

"Office Depot," Lance repeated clearly and slowly. "I am going to OFFICE DEPOT."

"Yeah, I heard you." Chris affected outrage. "What, is there some law that says you're the only popstar who's allowed to like Office Depot? Is it in the Constitution? I don't think so."

Lance appeared unimpressed.

Chris thought fast and spoke faster: "In fact, I'll have you know that I have a well-documented highlighter fetish. Just ask JC."

Lance's eyebrow shot right up to his hairline. "Did you just say--?"

"No time to waste if we're going to make it before closing time," Chris interrupted loudly. He snatched the keys from Lance's slack hand and made a beeline for the car. "I call shotgun!"

*

In the interests of authenticity, Chris made a show of uncapping a handful of highlighters and sniffing each, one by one. "Ahhh," he sighed. "Mmmmm."

Within the next five minutes he also managed to fondle a ruler, sensuously run his fingers through a container of paperclips, and lick a three-ring binder. Good work, if he did say so himself.

"Chris! I hope to god you're going to pay for that," Lance hissed, looking over his shoulder.

"But of course." Chris blithely dropped the binder into Lance's cart where it landed atop a rapidly-growing pile of molested stationery. "Geez, Lance, what kind of a sick freak do you think I am?"

He turned away, smacking his lips, and looked around for the next thing to grope.

*

Chris spotted it as they were loading the bags into the car.

"Hey!" He dived in beneath Lance's arm and came out waving a packet of ultra-deluxe super-duper jumbo-size CEO-quality highlighters. "Where did this come from?"

Lance tried to snatch it back.

"You bought this?" Chris hooted and batted Lance's hands away effortlessly. "Lance Lance LANCE, you decadent yuppie."

"I didn't buy it for me," Lance said, sounding vexed. He folded his arms.

Chris opened his mouth to say, yeah right, for WHO then?, before thinking about it and saying "Ohhhhhhh" instead.

"Yes," Lance said acidly, "Oh."

"But, see," Chris said slowly. He handed the highlighters back to Lance. "I don't actually have a highlighter fetish."

"You don't?" Lance looked at him suspiciously.

"Nah." Chris grinned suddenly. He reached out and grabbed Lance's hand. "More like a Lance fetish."

By Ro, February 2004

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