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Afternoon At Albertsons

Afternoon At Albertsons

by Closetfan


Rated: G

Summary:  Just a little slice of life with a kinder, gentler John Smith.

Warnings: none

Disclaimer:  the standard stuff




Aisle 7:  health and beauty aids.  Just what he'd come for.


Hannibal steered his shopping cart slowly past rows of shampoos, deodorants and shaving products.  Too many choices.  He picked a can of Barbasol and grinned as he looked at the label.  "For a close shave."  It's what his dad had used, and the only brand Hannibal ever used when he had a choice.  Let Face use that fancy electric shaver.  John Smith would always be a shaving cream and razor man. 


He pushed his cart on towards the meat department.  BA was going to stop by and take a look at Hannibal's car again (he'd have to make up his mind soon whether to buy a new one or keep asking BA to cobble the old one together) and it would only be right to feed him.  He picked up several steaks, and a bag of conveniently placed charcoal for the grill.  His mouth watered as he thought ahead to the evening's meal of smoky, fire-seared steaks.  He thought for a moment, and picked up two more before moving on. 


If BA was coming to work on the car, then Face would stop by, probably with Murdock in tow.  Murdock enjoyed working on an engine, and they hadn't busted him out in a while.  He'd be getting a little antsy by now.  No one had really said anything about an unscheduled holiday from the VA, but they rarely did.  Somehow, Murdock just always seemed to show up with one or another of them.  He was fun to have around.


With Murdock's potential visit in mind, Hannibal headed next for the produce section.  He picked up several heads of crisp lettuce and other salad fixings.  He also got a bag of the apples Murdock liked.  He tried to make sure there was fresh produce around when Murdock came to visit; he rarely got it at the hospital.  Honestly, how was a man supposed to stay regular under circumstances like that?  Besides, he'd been craving a good salad lately, himself. 


Next to dairy, where Hannibal picked up a gallon of milk, and on to frozen foods.  Sure, he thought as he put two gallons of vanilla ice cream in the cart, they guys would tease him about the bland flavor choice.  But this was the good brand - the one with the real flecks of vanilla beans.  Even Face couldn't complain about that.  And for Hannibal's money, there was no finer treat than a good vanilla ice cream on a warm spring evening.


Satisfied with his cartload, Hannibal pushed on towards the check out.  As he waited to be rung up, he gazed out towards the parking lot, where the early afternoon sun played off of windshields, creating tiny bright spots that showed through the tinted plastic that was drawn halfway down, like a window shade, in the front window the grocery.  A small smile played across his lips for no reason at all.


He really liked days like this. 


Afternoon At Albertsons by Closetfan



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