More of a guest staring role for Nick, but he's the pivot the story turns on.

Title: Oh, Behave!
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Austin Powers
Pairing: None
Status: Finished
Sequel/Series:
Archive: WWOMB, CKoS, others ask, give credit, and post my email address for feedback
Criticism: Yes.
Feedback: Yes. poet77665@yahoo.com My private forum at fanfiction.net is http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?fanaction=userforum&RoomID=1762
Web pages: Scribe Scribbles at http://www.geocities.com/poet_77665 for original prose, poetry and madness, and fanfiction. The Poetic Site, for my X Files Krycek/Mulder Poetic slash series. http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver. Most of my work can also be found at http://www.fanfiction.net under the name Scribe.
Disclaimer: They belong to Mike Meyers and Chris Carter, baby.
Summary: Austin wants to swing, Scott is pissed.
Author's Notes: A plot bunny wearing go-go boots attacked me.
Warning:
Rating: R, mostly for language.

---

Austin adjusted his Nehru jacket and checked his love beads to make sure the male potency symbol (circle with rampant arrow) was hanging straight, then answered the knock at the door. There was a sullen, dark haired young man dressed in baggy jeans and a t-shirt advertising some band called Megadeth standing in the hallway. "Scott! What a fabulous surprise!"

The young Evil pushed his way past Austin. "YOU called ME, Powers. Remember?"

"Oh, yeah! Right. Come in, baby."

Scott turned and stared at him. "I AM in."

"Smashing, baby, smashing." He shut the door.

Scott eyed him suspiciously. "You're acting even weirder than usual. What are you up to?" "What makes you think I'm up to anything, baby?" He came over and moved up behind Scott, brushing his crotch against Scott's rump. "Aside from the usual, that is."

Scott moved away and said pointedly, "Because you HAVEN'T called me since Felicity came back from her stint in the Pink Pussycat Palace."

"Oh, um, yeah. Been busy."

"You said you were going to tell her about us."

"I did, baby, I did."

"And?"

Austin waved his hands about the room. "Do you see any evidence of a woman in residence?"

Scott looked around. "With your funky taste, it's kinda hard to tell. So she blew?"

"No, she was a wild bird, but not much on oral sex. That's one reason why I'm so into you."

Scott slapped Austin lightly on the side of the head. "Turn the brain on! Shit, and you can't even blame it on doing too much acid in the sixties because you left before it really kicked into high gear. I mean she LEFT?"

"Oh. Yeah. At first she was all for a threesome, but when she found out you'd be interested in me and not her, she got a teeny bit miffed."

"That's good. I was beginnin' to think I was gonna have to come over here and kick her mini-skirted ass. I don't particularly mind you havin' a little side action, but I draw the line at some bimbo livin' in."

Austin rubbed his hands. "I'm so glad to hear you say that!"

Scott's eyes narrowed. "I repeat: What are you up to?"

"Um... well..."

Scott examined Austin closely. "You're wearin' your Nehru jacket and love beads. That's the same outfit you wore the first time you wanted me to do it doggy style." He walked slowly around the room, examining various things. "Candles." He sniffed. "Sandalwood incense." He looked at the bed. "Black satin sheets, and lube and TWO boxes of ribbed condoms on the night stand." He cocked his head. "Burt Bacarach's 'The Look of Love' on the stereo." He walked over to the bar. "And the makings of martinis with FOUR glasses set out." He rounded on Austin. "What gives?"

"Okay, Scott, first off, hold on to the famous Evil temper."

"That isn't a good beginning, Powers," he gritted.

"Remember, you just got through saying that you didn't mind if I swung a little, and really, baby, this has nothing to do with me and you. It was set up a long time before that fateful night I knocked the scorpion off your bum."

"Fuck, Austin! Will you get over it and just admit that you felt me up? I LIKED it, you dip! Will you quit dithering and TELL ME WHAT'S GOING ON?"

Austin cleared his throat. "Like I said, it was set up a long time ago. I didn't remember till yesterday. I tried to call it off, but when I called his office they said he was out in the field, and they didn't know when he'd be back."

Scott raised one eyebrow skeptically. "You set up a play date with a farmer?"

"No, baby. Different field. An FBI agent. Erm, TWO of them, actually. Do you remember that fab Feebe who came down to interview me about a month ago for that special section he worked in? The Sex Files?"

"That's X Files, you goat." Scott looked interested now. "Really tall? Messy brown hair?" Austin was nodding. "Hazel eyes? Pouty mouth?" Austin nodded harder. "Fantastic ass?" Austin nodded so hard that his glasses almost flew off. "No. Can't say I remember him."

"His name is Mulder." Austin paused dramatically. "Fox Mulder."

Scott snorted. "Yeah, like your middle name is Danger."

"No, really, baby. It IS Fox. Anyway, he and his partner came down to have a chat about the whole cryogenics time travel save the world bit. Do you remember his partner, Dana?"

"No, I only saw him with some little redhead."

"Um, that WAS Dana."

"I thought Dana was a guy's name?"

"I think it's unisex, like Leslie."

"Who the fuck would name their kid Leslie?"

"Look, baby, the thing is, we hit it off. Fox was interested in swinging, and he promised to talk his partner into coming back tonight for a bit of swap around with MY partner." Austin was rubbing the toe of his boot in the shag carpet. "And... uh... Felicity is gone, and I don't HAVE a partner now, except..." He peered at Scott over the rims of his glasses.

Scott stood up very straight, mouth gaping. "Oh, I don't--fucking--BELIEVE it! You wait weeks to tell the bimbo that you're with me now while we're screwing our brains out in parked cars and Motel 6. You finally get the balls to 'fess up, then when she bails you call ME in as a last minute replacement so you can get some ginger nooky? I---DON'T---THINK SO!"

Austin put on his best analytical air. "I sense hostility."

"Let me put it this way: If I was my dad, Mr. Bigglesworth would be SO pissed right now that you'd have to start checking the floor for trapdoors." He stalked toward the door. "I'm leaving before I let my Evil genes take over and do something to you."

He jerked open the door to find a tall man in a trench coat standing there, hand raised to knock. "Wow! Quite a coincidence, isn't it? Almost eerie..."

"Can it." Scott put his hands on his hips, glaring at the man. "You're Mulder, right?"

"Um, yes. I'm looking for Austin Powers?" He smiled charmingly. "Not that I wouldn't mind settling for you."

Scott felt himself starting to melt a little, but stiffened his spine. Jerking his thumb over his shoulder he said, "In there." He looked past Mulder at the empty hallway as the FBI man stepped inside and said nastily, "Where's your PARTNER?"

"Parking the car." Mulder went to Austin. "Hey, Austin. Nice beads. Uh, about Dana..."

"Yeah, smashing bird. How is she?"

"Oh, she's fine. But look, I have to tell you... Things have changed since we made this date."

Austin's faces fell. "You couldn't talk her into coming?"

"That's not exactly it."

"Well," Scott said loudly. "I hope you three have a... a GROOVY time. I'm gonna go home and shave the peach fuzz off my old man's pussy."

As the door slammed, Mulder gave Austin a questioning look. "It's a long story, baby. He's just being true to his roots."

Scott stalked down the hall, muttering to himself darkly. It didn't exactly HURT, but it was kind of insulting. He wasn't sure how long he should give Austin the cold shoulder before he forgave him. He sighed as he got in the elevator. Probably not too long. Austin was a dork, but he WAS a good lay, and Scott sure as hell didn't feel like going back to nothing but masturbation. Anyway, Mini Me always found his porn magazines and drew glasses and mustaches on all the models' genitalia.

The elevator stopped on the fifth floor and a dark haired man in a black coat got on. As the doors slid shut he reached for the buttons, then looked at the panel and swore. "Dammit! This one is going down!"

Scott eyed him appreciatively. He had a nice body, even if that grey suit was for shit. "So what's wrong with going down?" The man looked at Scott sharply. *Whoa, DAY-um! Those are the greenest eyes I've ever seen.*

The stranger smiled slowly, and Scott felt a twitch in his jockeys. "Absolutely nothing. But I've already gotten off on the wrong floor once. Now I have to ride all the way down, then back up again." His eyes traveled over Scott in a manner that set off another twitch. "Not that I mind the company."

Scott stuck out his hand. "Scott Evil."

The stranger shook hands with him, "Evil, huh? I like that. Evil is a necessary part of this world, even though most people don't admit it."

He was still holding on to Scott's hand. *Oo. Well, Austin isn't the only one who can do the smutty double entendres.* "I think everyone should have some Evil in them."

The guy's grin broadened. "Do your parents know you're out alone?"

"I'm nineteen. Mom doesn't mind, and my father can go screw himself."

"You don't like your father?" Scott shook his head, then wiggled slightly as the man stroked his palm with one finger. "How do you feel about daddies?"

"Daddies I have NO problem with."

The doors slid open on the lobby, and the man sighed, letting him go. "I'm going to have to take a rain check, stud. I already have a date. My partner set it up back when he was still working with Dana, and he didn't remember to cancel it when they moved her and assigned me instead. He begged me to come along so he wouldn't be embarrassed. The guy is supposed to be sort of related to our area of investigation, and Mulder doesn't want to alienate him." He rolled his eyes. "I'll probably end up with the girl."

Scott stared at him. "What's your name?"

"Alex Krycek."

"Alex, are you an FBI agent?"

Alex flipped open a case to display an ID card. Then he hooked a pair of handcuffs off his belt and dangled them in front of Scott's face, purring, "Is this proof enough?"

Scott grinned back at him, reaching out to punch the button for the tenth floor. "Oh, behave!"

 

---

 

Title: The One Important Question
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Austin Powers/X Files
Pairing: Alex Krycek/Scott Evil
Status: Finished
Sequel/Series: Scott Evil Series/ Sequel to Oh, Behave!
Archive: WWOMB, CKoS, Down in the Basement, Slashing Mulder, anyone else who wants it, ask, give credit, and post my email address for feedback
Criticism: Yes.
Feedback: Yes. poet77665@yahoo.com My private forum at fanfiction.net is http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?fanaction=userforum&RoomID=1762
Web pages: Scribe Scribbles at http://www.geocities.com/poet_77665 for original prose, poetry and madness, and fanfiction. The Poetic Site, for my X Files Krycek/Mulder Poetic slash series. http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver. Most of my work can also be found at http://www.fanfiction.net under the name Scribe.
Disclaimer: None of these luscious guys are mine. I'm SOOOOOOOO deprived! *sniff*
Summary: Scott and Alex plot to make Austin jealous, and start Mulder thinking about possibilities.
Author's Notes: I hadn't planned this, but several people wanted to know what happened after Scott met Alex in Oh, Behave! Snooker is a British game that bears a passing resemblance to pool.
Warning: Major silliness, people.
Rating: NC-17

---

The One Important Question

As the doors slid shut, Alex eyed the spike-haired young man who was currently grinning at him from the other side of the elevator. He'd said his name was Evil. Okay, technically his name was SCOTT Evil, but come on. It had to be one he'd picked out himself for effect, right? Still... That was a truly sly, wicked gleam in his eyes, and Alex felt himself warming to the boy immediately. He got the feeling that THIS was someone he could relate to. Someone devious.

Scott crossed his arms and his ankles, leaning back against the wall, studying the older man. FBI he might be, but there was something about him that made Scott think he'd be the sort of recruit Dad would drool over, and not for the obvious physical reasons that were kicking SCOTT'S salivary glands into gear. There was a hint of ruthless intelligence behind that bland, nine-out-of-ten-dentists-recommend toothpaste smile. Plus, that crappy suit and stiff haircut couldn't cover up a truly dangerous glint in his eyes. That glint made Scott think that any dentist this guy DID patronize had better be DAMN careful with the drill, unless he wanted to find it shoved somewhere very uncomfortable. The intelligence factor made it almost a given that Dad would never get this guy into the Virtucon fold. He'd be too damn smart to hook up with such a loser endeavor. Then again, the FBI wasn't exactly the land of opportunity, either, so Scott had to figure that this guy was biding his time there, waiting for bigger, and sneakier, things.

Scott cocked his head. "You're not what you seem."

Those green eyes went mint ice-cream cold, even though the smile never wavered. "What makes you say that?"

Scott shrugged. "Don't go makin' snuff plans for me, dude. It's nothin' to me if you're bogus. And I know because, hey. I'm Scott Evil. It's in the frickin' genes, man. I can sniff out duplicity easier than Austin can sniff out pussy, an' if you tell my old man I know how to use a word like 'duplicity', I'll clock you."

"I'm not saying I have anything to hide, Scott," Scott snorted. "But if I did... What would it take to get you to keep that luscious mouth of yours closed?"

"That partner of yours is pretty cute."

Alex's brows drew together. "Mulder? Might as well forget it. He's straight." A smile tugged at the corners of Alex's lips. "At least he THINKS he is. Now."

Scott nodded. "Know whatcha mean, dude. It was the same way with Powers. I had to SHOW him he was bi." Scott noticed Alex's expression, and chuckled. "Yeah, no matter what happens, you won't get stuck with a girl."

"That's a relief."

"Yeah, well, you haven't met Austin yet. How do you feel about retro?"

"Fine by me. I dig the eighties."

"Farther back."

"The seventies were cool, too. Disco, Travolta was hot, even if he DID wear polyester..."

"Farther." "Fifties are good, too. James Dean and bad boys with leather jackets and DAs."

"Too far."

Alex winced. "Not the sixties?"

Scott made the peace sign. Alex popped the rod. "Ah. I see that isn't your favorite era. Don't give up on this venture yet. Yeah, Powers is a geek, but..." He smile somehow managed to be sheepish and lascivious at the same time. "I dunno. I guess it must be that freakin' mojo he's always on about. Anyway, I'M gonna be there."

Alex's smile became feral. "I'm beginning to look forward to this."

"Glad to hear it." Scott reached out and fingered Krycek's tie. "You know, that is a SERIOUSLY shitty tie."

"Ever heard of protective coloring? Keep talking, we haven't got too many floors to go."

"Okay, here's the situation. Is it safe to say that you'd like to plant the idea in Mulder's mind that bi is not bad, and that YOU should be first in line when he takes the plunge?"

"That sums it up perfectly. I know the tendency HAS to be there. He worked a long time with that redhead, Scully, and never tried to put the moves on her. Of course, she'd have probably handed him his nuts if he had. I think she has a thing going with some other female Feebe named Starling. Anyway, I'd rather not resort to rape, it might make working together a little difficult."

"No shit, dude. Anyway, I'm, like, TOTALLY pissed with Austin for taking so long to dump that Felicity chick and then springing this swinging thing on me without even ASKING..."

"You don't want to?"

"I didn't SAY that, did I? But he shoulda ASKED. I might have planned to go to the mall, or something. The dork has no consideration for others when his... uh... well, his dork is concerned."

"Okay, we've established what we want, here. You have a plan to go about getting it?"

"Oh, yeah. And believe me, unlike my Dad's doofus plots, THIS will work."

"We're almost there. Tell me."

"Got those handcuffs?" Alex dangled them again. Scott turned away from Krycek, putting his hands behind his back, wrists close together. He tipped his head back to give Alex a cheeky grin. "How do you feel about role playing?"

Alex laughed as he snapped the bracelets around Scott's wrists. "I knew there was a reason I liked you."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"That was your boyfriend?"

Austin almost spilled the martini he was pouring. "Um, no. NO." He laughed nervously. "What an idea! That's not my bag, baby, not my bag at all!"

"Oh. Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"Really?" Austin handed Mulder the glass.

"It's just that he seemed too pissed with you to NOT be your boyfriend."

"Yes, well, uh. He is, actually. Sort of. In a manner of speaking. If you can call it that."

"Do you have sex with him?"

Austin squinted his eyes, as if expecting a blow. "Yes."

"Then he's your boyfriend. That's cool."

Austin relaxed. "Look, Mulder, I'm sorry my old bird flew the coop. It's very ungroovy, you coming all the way out here and not a bit of crumpet in sight."

Mulder sighed. "That's all right. I'm used to it. Dammit." He looked around the room. "As long as I'm here, do you have any videos?"

"Oh, yeah! Got some smashing vids." Austin began to sort through the boxes stacked next to his television. "Let's see... I've got In Like Flint... Very flattering, him copying me like that, I must say. Alice's Restaurant, all about those fab hippies. Oo, Barbarella. That chic wears some swingin' costumes in this one!"

"Anything sexier?"

Austin's eyebrows did the frug. "Ah, a bit of the naughty stuff, eh?"

"I've been known to watch a few, yeah."

"I've got just the thing. VERY racy." Austin proudly held up a box. "Peyton Place!"

"Uh... I was thinking more along the lines of The Devil in Miss Jones."

"Horror? Hmm... I may have a Hammer film here about. Lovely low necklines on their wenches."

"How about Deep Throat?"

Austin frowned. "I thought that was your informant?"

Mulder blushed. "We're just friends. Austin, do you mean to tell me that with your reputation you don't have ANY porn?"

Austin cleared his throat. "Well, Scott DID have a rather suspicious looking magazine called HUSTLER the other day, but he told me it was about snooker."

"You were snookered, all right. Where is it?"

While Austin was trying to figure out where Scott might have stashed the magazine, there was a brisk knock on the door. Austin went to answer it. Standing outside was an attractive green-eyed bloke who was more or less dangling a sullen Scott from one fist. "Does this belong to you?"

Mulder came up behind Austin, appraised the situation, and said, "Krycek, what the hell are you up to?"

Krycek propelled a scowling Scott into the room. "Just my job, Agent Mulder."

Austin closed the door. "Scott, what's going on, man?"

Krycek's grip on the back of his collar allowed Scott to turn slightly. He showed Austin his cuffed wrists. "What does it look like? I'm busted, dude."

Austin gasped. "But you promised me you wouldn't do drugs! Well, not without me, anyway."

Scott, even though cuffed, managed to give him the finger. "It wasn't drugs, dick-wipe. You don't think I'd risk my stash by bringing it around here, do you? The last time I brought anything, Mini Me hid and watched, then fed the rest of it to Mr. Bigglesworth. Fucking cat thought he was a Mexican Hairless for three days. It was almost worth it to see the look on Dad's face when he humped his leg."

Krycek shook Scott, who yelped in protest. "I caught him making terroristic threats from the public phone booth in the lobby. He was threatening to tear down the Berlin Wall."

Austin gasped, "Oh, wow, Scott! Actually, that would be a blow for democracy, but it's still blackmail. Were you planning on using one of Dr. Evil's evil devices? Does he let you use them on weekends?"

All three of the other men gave Austin looks ranging from pity, through disbelief, to scorn. Mulder said, "Austin, Scott... The Berlin Wall was torn down years ago."

Austin gasped. Scott snorted. "I know that, Coyote."

Mulder frowned. "That's Fox... I mean Mulder."

"Whatever."

"Then why were you threatening to destroy something that no longer existed?"

Scott shrugged. "Seemed like a good idea at the time?"

Krycek said, "You have to take this seriously, Mulder. Apparently he'd gotten hold of a very low level bureaucrat who was so afraid that he hadn't been kept in the loop and had been given the wrong information that he was negotiating."

"How much did you ask for, Scott?" Austin said, curious. "A million, like your old man?"

"Fuck no." Scott said scornfully. "What's the point? With all the electronic security in place these days they could trace or cancel any transaction like that. No, I was asking for practical stuff."

"Like what?" Mulder asked, curious.

"Well," Krycek pursed his lips in thought. Mulder tried not to stare. "I believe he had him up to a case of Doritos..."

"A case of EACH flavor, dude." Scott said proudly.

Krycek continued, "A customized skateboard, a year's supply of Jolt cola, tickets to every play date of the next Alice in Chains tour, a Playstation II..."

"My Dad says I have to keep my crappy Nintendo 64 till they stop making games for it. Asshole."

"A year's subscription to Penthouse," Alex added. Mulder nodded in approval. "...and a case of Heineken Dark."

Austin gasped. "Scott! Bear?!" He made shame-shame motions at him. "That's illegal!"

"Bite me! I'm nineteen."

"Yeah, but alcohol across international lines..."

"I think we have more serious concerns here, Mr. Powers," Krycek interrupted. "On the way up he mentioned something about an evil super genius who plans to take over the world with his goofy sidekick. Now, at first I thought he was talking about Pinky and the Brain, and I wasn't too worried. But then I learned that he meant his father, Dr. Evil, and Number Two."

Scott smirked. "You should be more worried about Pinky. His plans are usually more successful than the lame ass plots my Dad comes up with." "Look, Agent Krycek," said Austin. "Let Scott go. He isn't really Evil. Well, he IS, but only in the sense that his NAME is Evil, he's not BAD evil, you know? He's not wicked."

Scott licked his lips pointedly, and winked at Austin. "That isn't what you said last night when I was..."

"He's just MISUNDERSTOOD!" Austin said hastily.

"I think he's making himself pretty clear." Krycek was watching Scott closely. Scott blew a kiss at him.

"But the boy hasn't a hostile bone in his body." Again the three other men looked at him in disbelief. "Well, he's not VIOLENT."

"Powers," Scott said, his voice as close to patient as it was possible for him to ever get. "I told my Dad to shoot you. I offered to shoot you MYSELF. I told him we could shoot you TOGETHER." He looked at Krycek, "You know, father and son bonding shit." Krycek nodded.

"Scott, that was so long ago. You were young and confused..."

"It was three months ago."

"I don't believe this. Why did you do it?"

"Why does anyone in my generation do something like that?" He suddenly screamed. "NOBODY LOVES ME!" After that shout, Frau Farbissina would never be able to deny he was her son, even if she wanted to. Scott snarled, "My Dad's a megalomaniacal asshole who cares more for his clone and his fucking bald cat than me, I was born in a petri dish, my main male role model for most of my life is named after a bowel movement, and my Mom is a Nazi. I love her, but she played Wagner to put me to sleep and read me Mein Kampf for bedtime stories. And my lover was ready to trade me in for a night with a redheaded, power suit wearing, tight ass FBI midget."

"Sometimes Scully wears pantsuits," Mulder protested.

"This is all very interesting," Krycek's voice was cold. "But this boy is obviously in possession of information that may be vital to our nation's security, and I'm going to get it before we leave this room."

Scott sneered. "Bite me, Feebe."

Krycek jerked Scott up so that they were nose to nose and said softly, "That IS an option."

"Krycek..." Mulder's voice was warning.

"Mulder, either stay out of my way or help me, but I intend to get to the bottom of this..." Krycek reached down and squeezed Scott's ass. "by getting to this bottom."

"Austin!" Scott snapped. "He's feeling me up. Are you gonna let him get away with that?"

Austin appraised Krycek, particularly the bulge under his jacket that indicated a gun. "Well, he IS a federale, baby."

Alex jerked Scott over toward the bed, with the other two men following. "Krycek, look, I appreciate your zeal. I can remember how it was when I discovered MY first conspiracy." Alex had pitched Scott onto the bed. The boy sprawled, legs spread suggestively, pouting at the older man. "Of course, the conspirators weren't nearly that cute..." Now Alex, Scott, and Austin looked at Mulder, who blushed. "I mean young." The blush deepened. "I mean... I mean... uh, inexperienced." Scott giggled. Mulder closed his eyes briefly. "You know what I mean."

"Doesn't matter, Mulder." Krycek took off his jacket and his holster. "It doesn't matter how young and innocent..." He looked at Scott, who bumped his pelvis up. "Make that relatively innocent, he is." Krycek toed off his shoes, removing his shirt. As his smooth, well defined chest and washboard stomach were revealed, Mulder's breath speeded up, and Austin quickly polished his glasses. "It doesn't matter how much he begs..."

Scott rolled his eyes. "I'm begging you."

"...and pleads..."

"Please, please, please."

"...and whimpers..." Alex climbed up on the bed with Scott, crawling over him. Scott whimpered, squirming.

"...and moans." Alex started sucking a hickey on Scott's neck. Scott arched his neck and moaned. loud. Austin and Mulder watched, mouths hanging slightly open. Alex paused to examine the bruise he'd put on Scott's throat. "I'm just going to have to torture him till he tells me everything."

"But Alex, baby..." Mulder gave Austin a sharp look that couldn't be interpreted as anything but jealousy. Austin amended quickly, "Agent Krycek, what could the poor lad possibly tell you?"

"For starters, he could tell me the secret location of his evil father's headquarters." Alex had pulled Scott's T-shirt up and was gently biting his nipples. Scott was beginning to pant.

"You don't have to do that!" Austin wrung his hands. "Just check his driver's license!"

Scott gasped, "Phony ID, you dim bulb."

"HE DOESN'T KNOW THAT!" Austin spluttered.

"I do now." Krycek jerked Scott's jeans down to his knees. "That's one advantage to those butt-ugly baggy jeans."

"Hey!" Scott protested. "Those cost me fifty-five bucks at J.Crew's."

"Well, if you weren't wearing them three sizes too large you wouldn't have tripped on them and I wouldn't have caught you, would I? Shut up."

"I thought you wanted me to talk..."

Krycek shut Scott up by the simple but effective method of shoving his tongue into the boy's mouth. He continued to plunge it in and out as he unzipped his own fly. Mulder blinked. "Krycek, you should stop that. The kid could charge you with sexual molestation."

Alex gave him a hot stare. "Hell, you call THIS molestation? I've hardly made it past the harassment stage yet." He pulled Scott's jockey's down and took a firm grip on the very healthy erection that was revealed. "Now this, this qualifies as molestation." Scott whooped as he bent down and took him into his mouth.

"Scott!" Austin started forward.

Scott panted, "Powers, if you stop him now, I swear to you that you'll WISH those mutated sea bass had eaten your ass!"

Mulder, sweating now, started toward the bed. "Krycek, you gotta stop! I'm senior agent here, and I order you to get off that piece of tail... I mean prisoner."

Krycek let go of Scott's cock with an audible slurp. "Mulder, back off or I'll tell Scully what happened to that pair of panties that disappeared from the laundry she had in her backseat the last time she gave us a lift." Mulder paled. He didn't protest any more, but he didn't back off, either. As a matter of fact, he edged closer to the bed as Krycek pushed down his own pants and underwear, lay down full length on the wiggling Scott, and began to thrust.

"Give it up, punk!" Alex snarled, hips pistonning.

Austin wrung his hand. He was torn with horror, guilt, and horniness that was about to blow the top of his head off. "It's all my fault!" he moaned. "If I hadn't acted so callously Scott wouldn't have felt compelled to act out, and he wouldn't be in this position right now."

Scott had his legs wrapped around Krycek's waist, bucking up to meet him. Krycek panted, "Yeah, Powers, I'll have to send you a thank you card for that."

Mulder's eyes were glazed, and he loosened his tie. "Krycek, if you're getting tired, I could spell you on the interrogation." Austin stared at him. Mulder shrugged, whispering, "I figured, you know, good cop, bad cop? Alex torments him, then I come in to soothe him?"

Austin said, "You mean hurt/comfort?" Mulder nodded. Austin looked thoughtful. "I've heard that term somewhere before."

"Cyber idiot." Scott grunted. He yelped as Alex grabbed his hips and came on his belly in a flurry of short hard strokes, then used his sperm as a lubricant to slick his hand as he finished jerking Scott off. Both of the young men, one whose hair was even spikier than usual, and one whose hair had finally been mussed out of its usual rigid stiffness, lay gasping and spunk smeared.

"Fuck," Mulder whispered, trying to adjust a sizable boner in as discreet a manner as possible. "What have you done, Alex?"

"Scott, sweety, can you forgive me?" Austin whimpered.

"That isn't the important question," Alex said firmly.

"Gotta agree," Scott groaned. "Your question wasn't important, either, Powers."

"No, I think there's only one important question here." Alex continued.

Scott nodded in agreement. "One question that has to be asked." They looked at each other. Alex winked. Scott grinned. Turning to look at a stunned Fox Mulder and Austin Powers they chorused, "Do we make you horny, baby?"

      

=====
Scribe, making the world a better place through smut!

Plot, plot, plot. Smut, smut, smut. Decisions, decisions, decisions. I must rearrange my priorities.

Have you tried looking under your bed? Perhaps you can find a clue there.

I wouldn't mind the wombats in my lingerie drawer, but they WILL insist on wearing my Wonderbra.

 

---

 

Title: Knick Knack, Paddywack
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Austin Powers/X Files
Pairing: Alex Krycek/Scott Evil
Status: Complete
Sequel/Series: The Evil Series, Sequel to E.G.G, Oh, Behave! and The One Important Question
Archive: Down in the Basement, Slashing Mulder, CKoS, WWOMB, others ask, give a credit, and post my email address for feedback
Criticism: Yes.
Feedback: Yes. poet77665@yahoo.com My private forum at fanfiction.net is http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?fanaction=userforum&RoomID=1762
Web pages: Scribe Scribbles at http://www.geocities.com/poet_77665 for original prose, poetry and madness, and fanfiction. The Poetic Site, for my X Files Krycek/Mulder Poetic slash series. http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver. Most of my work can also be found at http://www.fanfiction.net under the name Scribe.
Disclaimer: They aren't mine, dammit. Mike Myers and Chris Carter own them, the greedy bastards.
Summary: Scott brings Alex home to meet the family.
Author's Notes: When last we left our ingenue, Scott Evil, he'd just finished a lusty romp with Alex Krycek, before very a interested Mulder and Powers. There are funny German pronounciation thingies on the German phrases, but I left 'em out so the program wouldn't go wonky. Translations at the end of the story.
Rating: NC-17

---

Knick Knack, Paddywack

Scott rolled over on his belly, stretching luxuriously. "Hey, Austin. Sorry about your sheets, man, but hell. You MUST have been figuring on a wet spot, right?"

Krycek stretched out beside him on his back. "Cold water, gentle cycle and a TEENY bit of baking soda in the rinse, to give them that fresh smell."

"Yo, Alex? Howsabout...?" Scott wiggled his fingers.

"Oh, yeah. Right." Alex bounded up. Krycek was as comfortable in his own skin as most people were in sloppy sweats. Mulder and Austin both gaped. Neither one had ever seen anyone move so casually and confidently while totally in the buff. And what a buff buff it was.

Krycek found his pants and dug in the pocket, coming up with the handcuff key, then unlocked the bracelets. Scott rubbed his wrists, which were encircled by faint pink welts. "Thanks, dude. That was startin' to get real." Alex took one of his hands and kissed the swollen area in apology.

Austin said hopefully, "You mean he's not under arrest?"

Mulder sighed. "Austin, we've been had."

"No we haven't, baby. That's the whole problem, as I see it. I know I haven't been had, and I didn't notice YOU being had, and I know for DAMN sure I didn't have anybody. The only one I think who can technically be said to have been had is Scott. Lucky bastard."

Scott sat up. "As much as I'd like to listen to you babble, I need to clean up." He looked at Alex. "Ya know, that shower is big enough for two."

Krycek grinned. "Well, we could extend the role playing a little."

"Like how?"

"New prisoner in the showers with horny boss con?"

Scott frowned. "That's a little too close to what my Dad actually predicted for me. How about star quarterback and water boy after the big game?"

"Make it quarterback and tight end and you got it." Scott sniggered all the way to the bathroom, only breaking off with a yelp when Krycek goosed him.

Mulder and Austin stared after them, then looked at each other. They both cleared their throats at the same time. Austin finally said, with great bravado, "I was just playing along."

Mulder nodded quickly. "Me, too."

Scott's voice floated out from the bathroom. "Assholes."

Krycek was heard to answer. "Now, now. If it makes them feel better to pretend..."

There was the sound of running water, then a loud, falsly bright, "Whoops! Dropped the soap. Get it for me, wouldya, Scott?"

"Sure, dude. Ya know, you didn't strike me as that clums... YOW! DAMN, already?!" Austin and Mulder started drifting, as casually as possible, toward the bathroom.

They stopped when a dripping wet Krycek poked his head out the door. "One of you guys toss me a condom, huh? I don't want to drip all over that lovely shag rug. So hard to get the fibers to stand up again..."

"Unlike OTHER things we could name!" Scott yelled.

"Shut up or I'm gagging you with the washcloth, and I'd prefer to have your mouth free." Fox got a rubber from the night stand, went over, and pressed it into Alex's hand. "Thanks, buddy. Ya know, Fox, I have to thank you. I thought this was going to be a frustrating weekend, and it's NOT." He let his eyes drop to the prominent bulge in Mulder's pants and smirked, "Well, not for ME, anyway." Alex ducked back in, shutting the door.

In a moment they heard a burst of laughter. "Oh, man!" Scott chortled. "Glow in the dark? Cut the lights off!"

"And risk one of us breaking his neck? Don't think so. You'll just have to use that funky little imagination of yours. Hold still." There was a long groan, then the sounds of wet flesh slapping together.

Fox turned away, shaking his head and muttering, "And I thought he was prissy."

Austin Powers listened to the grunts and moans that were now emenating from the bathroom, and eyed Mulder. He sidled closer, and peeked up at the taller man, wiggling his eyebrows. "Well, what shall we do now?"

Mulder looked back at the noisy bathroom, then down at Austin, expressionless. He sighed. "You say you have Peyton Place?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A little later the two men exited the bathroom. Alex had a towel tossed over Scott's hair and was trying to dry it as he walked. "Will you wait a minute! Hold still long enough for me to get it combed, will you?"

"You jokin', man? You got any idea how hard I work to keep it from all laying in one direction? If I just let it dry, I can achieve the effect without styling gel."

"What have you got against styling gel?"

"Virtucon produces so many personal care items I have a hard time remembering which ones are theirs, and I ain't givin' my old man a cent of my allowance back."

They both started dressing. Austin and Mulder, on the couch, had stopped watching the movie and were turned around to enjoy the show instead. "No need to get all formal on our account, baby," Austin said hopefully.

"Yeah, well, I don't wanna get nabbed for streaking. Sooo seventies, ya know." Scott winced as he pulled his T-shirt down. "Dude! You were a little harsh with the nipples in there." Alex clicked his teeth at him, and Scott giggled.

"Streaking? Are you leaving?" Mulder asked.

"We both are." Krycek found his tie hanging from a lighting fixture, and had to jump to get it down. "Scott's invited me to the Evil compound for the rest of the weekend. I'll meet you at the airport Sunday night."

"Alex, I already paid the double occupancy fee!" Fox complained.

"Deduct it on your tax. Tell 'em I'm off doing reconnasance work."

"That would be sorta dishonest."

Scott stared at Mulder, then looked at Krycek. "How do you stand him?"

Alex leaned over and whispered in his ear. "Two words: mouth and ass."

Scott studied Mulder again, then smiled. "Oh, yeah."

"But boys," Austin tried desperately, "Look! We have popcorn, and Peyton Place."

"Movie or TV series?" Alex asked.

"Movie."

"Pass. Now, if it was the series... A young Ryan O'Neil is VERY hot." Alex picked up a box of condoms and the lubricant from the night stand. "Say, Austin, you don't mind if I take these, do you? Scott's interested in the glow in the dark fun sleeves, and you won't be needing them, will you?"

Austin glanced at Mulder. The FBI agent silently put the bowl of popcorn on the sofa between them and stared back at the screen. "No, I guess not," he said sadly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the elevator on the way down Scott said, "Thanks, man. For everything. Austin will think three or four times before he trys to pull some shit like that on me again."

"Thank YOU. I thought Foxy was going to split his inseam. He's DEFINITELY thinking about his options now. Besides," He pinched Scott's ass. "You're a really fun lay."

"Cool. I may use you as a reference in the future. Now, since I'M gonna squeal all my Dad's secrets to you," they exited the elevator and walked through the lobby. "how about telling me what you REALLY do? You're FBI like Madonna's a nun. She might wear the clothes, but the true slut shines through."

"You know," Alex said genially, "I've killed people for less than that, but from you, it's cute. I'm a paid assassin."

Scott perked up. "No shit? Cool! Here's the ride."

Alex eyed the large black SUV. "Not bad, not bad."

"Yeah, it's pretty rad, except for the detailing." He led Alex around to show him the driver's side.

Alex examined the word written in neon blue flame letters on the side. "EVILMOBILE?"

"I've considered side swiping something just to get rid of it, but one more ticket would kick my insurance premiums up around demolition derby driver levels. The thing makes me a fuckin' MAGNET for State Troopers."

They got in and drove out into the desert. Scott left the road and drove up to a cliff face, honking the horn. A crackling, disembodied voice said, "Password?"

Scott leaned out the window. "Open the fuckin' thing before I ram it!"

"Oh, welcome home, Scott. Your Mom is looking for you."

A section of the cliff face slid up, and Scott drove into the yawning gap. "Interesting," Alex commented.

"A pain in the butt," Scott countered. "Ray Charles could follow the tracks up to the 'secret entrance', then they blow the cover even more by ASKING you for the password. And since Dad and Number Two are the only ones who can ever remember it, they just let everyone who doesn't go away in. We had a tourbus of Germans through last week. That made Mom happy, though."

They parked in the Evil underground parking garage and Scott led Alex off into the maze of tunnels. "We better go see Mom first. She's cool, but, well, she IS a Nazi. Ya really don't want to get her pissed if you can help it."

They came to a door that was decorated with a heart-shaped wreath of flowers, with a little teddy bear in the center. The teddy bear had a toothbrush mustache and was wearing a swastika armband. Scott knocked and Alex winced as someone inside bellowed, "Commen sie." Scott opened the door and went in, followed by Alex.

A short, severe looking woman in a grey suit that had as much personal flair and style as a cement wall came toward him. She gave Scott the fond smile of a mother Doberman greeting its favorite pup. "Scott! Ver haf you been? I sought you ver studyink for your college placement test tonight?"

The first genuine expression of something other than annoyance and lust filled Scott's face as he hugged his mother. *Aw,* Alex thought. *That's kinda sweet. It makes me want to fuck him so bad. But then again, his BREATHING makes me want to fuck him. I may be in deep water here.*

Scott was speaking to her. "What's the point? You know Dad got the tests for me. All I have to do is memorize the darn things."

*Oo, and 'darn' instead of 'damn', or more likely still, 'fucking'. He's watching his language for her. He's CUTE when he's being repressed. This must be why I've been so hot for Mulder. I wonder if I can talk him into putting on a suit and tie. It'd be a lot of fun to tear it off him.*

"Ja, Scott, I know. Zat's what I meant. Shouldn't you haf been memorizing answers?" She was trying to sound stern. Scott shrugged and gave her a mischievious 'I'm-a-stinker-but-you-love-me-anyway' grin, and she started to melt. "So, vat ver you doink instead? Someting constructive, I hope."

"I had a date with Austin."

Frau's face froze. "And how is the International Man of Mystery?" She made the title sound like 'Scum Sucking Vermin'.

"Geeky as ever, and even more presumptuous than I knew. He wanted me to join in a swap meet."

Frau frowned. "Magic or baseball?"

"Not cards, Mom. You went through the sixties. You know, keys in the hat, fun couples, all that shi... stuff." Alex resisted the urge to bite Scott on the neck.

Frau scowled. "I should haf neutered him ven I had the chance. I don't like him, Scott. He's no good for you. You deserve somevun special." She looked past her son, eyeing Alex closely. "Und who is zis? Scott, introduce your friend."

"Yeah, sorry. Mom, this is my new friend, Alex Krycek. Alex, this is my Mom, Frau Farbissina."

Alex took her hand and kissed it. "Frauline. I thought for a moment that you were Scott's sister."

"Stierschiesse, but I like it. Vhat do you do, Herr Krycek?"

Before Alex could answer, Scott spoke up excitedly. "He's undercover with the FBI, Mom. Not FOR them, WITH them. He's really an assassin."

"Ja? Zat's a gut, solid profession." She nodded her approval.

"He's gonna stay the weekend, okay?"

"Of course. Ve haf plenty of room."

"Uh, actually..." Scott shuffled his feet, blushing. The sight of a blushing Scott Evil was almost overwhelming. Alex started to get a boner. "I figured he could stay in my room. I mean, I have that big ass bed, and it would save on linens..."

"Not vis vat I suspect you two intend it vouldn't." Frau turned shrewd eyes on Alex. "Vat are your intentions, Herr Krycek? My little boy doesn't need anozer feckless heartbreaker in his life."

Alex put his hand over his heart and said, "Ich denke, dab ich Ihren Sohn heiraten mochte."

Frau's eyes widened. She said thoughtfully. "Krycek... zat isn't a Jewish name, is it?"

Alex shrugged. "I have no idea. They didn't tell me when they assigned it."

Finally Frau smiled, and Alex smiled back at her. Scott wondered why he was suddenly thinking of wolves and sharks. In any case, it was two predators reaching an understanding. Frau kissed Scott on the cheek. "Have fun, liebling. Zer is sauerbratten und schtrudle in ze kitchen, if you like. I am going into town. Zey are showing Schindler's List, und I could use a good laugh."

She left, and Alex said, "My, she's a vicious bitch. I like her."

"Yeah, Mom's cool. C'mon, my room is this way." They made their way down the corridor. On the way they came to an open doorway off to the left. Scott held a finger up to his lips and whispered. "Sh. Tiptoe, okay?" He went up on the tips of his Air Jordans, and they crept past the doorway.

They were past and starting down the hall when a whining voice called, "Scott?"

Scott winced. "Crap." He kept going.

"Scott? Come see Daddy." Scott kept going. "Or I chip up the VISA."

Scott's shoulders slumped, and he turned back to the room, sighing. He stalked into the room with Alex at his heels. Alex looked around with interest. It was a typical sixties bad spy movie meeting room, complete with large, highly polished table, too-hip-to-stand egg chairs, and a huge video screen. In one of the chairs at the head of the table was a standard issue bald headed, scar faced villain.

Scott crossed his arms, dropped his chin on his chest and snarled, "What do you want?"

*Oo, sullen again.* Alex eyed the table, wondering if he'd have a chance to screw Scott on it later.

"Frau suggested that we spend some quality time together."

"She held a gun to your head again, right?"

"Biggest frickin' Magnum I've ever seen in my life. I thought I was safe when I got that Colt Python away from her. I don't know WHERE she's getting them."

Scott whispered behind his hand. "Mini Me. He's runnin' a black market around here."

"So, Scott, what have you been up to?"

"The usual. Havin' sex with your arch enemy."

Dr. Evil winced, and Scott smirked. "You do that on purpose, don't you?" Evil accused.

"Yeah, but one insight isn't gonna convince me you aren't an asshole. Can I go now?"

"You haven't introduced me to your friend."

"Why? So you can embarrass me on a first name basis?"

"Hey, you know. I'm always interested in the homeboys from your hood." He looked at Alex. "Hi, dood. What's the 411?"

Alex looked at Scott in disbelief. Scott put his hands over his face. Alex smiled and extended his hand. "Hi. I'm Alex Krycek."

Dr. Evil shook hands. "Scott, I'm impressed. One of your friends said four words, and none of them were 'dude', 'man', 'bogus', or 'fuck'. Please, Alex, have a futuristic, non-ergonomic seat."

Alex sat in one of the egg shaped chairs. Scott did the same, muttering, "I feel like fuckin' Mork from Ork whenever I sit in these."

Alex looked at him curiously. "You're not old enough to remember that?"

"Cable. TVland. Comes on after Gilligan's Island."

A large, hairless cat padded into the room, leaped up on the table, walked directly to Alex, and climbed into his lap, beginning to purr. Alex stared at him in astonishment. "What the fuck?"

"That's Mr. Bigglesworth," Scott explained. "He's pretty cool. You don't have to worry about him shedding on your clothes, and he never hacks up hairballs."

Alex picked him up and turned him over and around, examining him. "This is the weirdest thing I've ever seen. Could I borrow him? I want to put him in a little silver space suit and drop him in Mulder's lap. He'll cream his jeans."

Dr. Evil was frowning, his hand hovering over a panel of buttons. Scott said warningly, "Dad! I'll tell Mom that you donated to B'nai Brith."

"I thought they were Jehovah's Witnesses and I wanted to get rid of them, okay?" But he pulled his hand back from the buttons. "Well, Scott," Dr. Evil began. "Would you like to know what Daddy has been up to?"

"No."

"Good, I'll tell you. I have come up with THE plan to blackmail the president of the United States." Alex sat up, interested, wondering if he should take notes. "I will arrange for a young female intern to start an affair with him. After a romantic encounter, she will make sure that DNA evidence of his misconduct is captured on her dress, then with this evidence..."

Alex interrupted. "Sir? It didn't bring down our LAST president, I don't think it will work with our current one."

Dr. Evil frowned. "It's been done?"

Scott snorted. "Jerk."

"Well, how was I supposed to know? No one ever tells me anything around here. Okay, I have another plan. I can have a man sneak into Buckingham Palace, even into the bedroom of the Queen herself! Then we threaten to expose the shoddiness of their security, and by implication the weakness of the monarchy, and... Why are you shaking your head, Scott?"

"Christ, Dad, I TOLD you to take a subscription to the National Enquirer, didn't I? That happend ages ago. She just made a phonecall to security asking for some cigarettes, and since she doesn't smoke they knew something was up, and caught the dip. He's in a looney bin somewhere, I think." He made a face at Alex. "Queen Elizabeth in a nightie?" They both shuddered.

Alex looked thoughtful. "Now, if it was Prince William..."

"I can't believe this!" Dr. Evil fumed. "My best ideas, stolen!"

"Dad, these happened AGES before you dreamed up your goofy plots. How can you say they were stolen?"

"Zip it, Scott. This wouldn't happen if people TOLD me things. If they gave me a CLUE, if they tossed me a fricken' BONE now and then. Okay, last idea, best idea. I have a way to completely undermine the image, reputation and public's confidence in the FBI." Alex raised his eyebrows. "I will reveal that J. Edgar Hoover was a secret transvestite, and... Okay, why are you laughing?"

Alex quit trying to disguise his snickering. "Well, sir, that isn't exactly a secret."

"It isn't?"

"No. There's a picture of him in chiffon and high heels on the bulletin board in the breakroom at Quantico."

Dr. Evil slapped the table. "I don't BELIEVE this! Am I not the head honcho here? The main dude? The big cheese? The Grand Poobah?"

"The Great Stierschiesse?" Alex suggested.

"Yes, good." He looked a little confused, but wasn't about to admit it. "Well," he stood up. "I'm going to go cruise the Websnare for ideas."

"Internet or World Wide Web, you moron!" Scott snapped.

"Fine. Good. Whatever." He left the room.

Scott sighed heavily. "I don't know. Maybe he'll discover cyber-porn and it'll keep him off my ass for awhile."

"Speaking of being on your ass, where did you say your room was?" Alex asked. Scott giggled as Alex dragged him up out of the chair and felt his crotch carefully. Scott moaned as Krycek's hands squeezed his butt. "Ah, yes. Still there."

As they walked to Scott's room, the boy shot sideways glances at Krycek. "Look, Alex, are you sure you still want to do this after you met my Dad? I can understand. I mean, the idea of having sex with anyone who shared his DNA would scare the shit out of ME."

They entered Scott's room. Alex looked around at the typical teenage slacker clutter with satisfaction, noting the scattering of video games, the posters featuring nearly naked young women AND young men, and the various articles of clothing draped on every flat surface. He picked up a pair of boxers, examined them, and took a long, appreciative sniff. "Scott, I'm going to say something I hope won't freak you out too much."

"What, Alex?"

"I'm about to quote your father."

Scott looked stricken. "Dude!"

"Oh, I don't think you'll object to this." He grabbed Scott by the shirt and tossed him on the bed, jumping on top of him. "To quote your Dad..." He reached down and cupped his hand over the erection Scott had been sporting since Alex had groped him in the meeting room. "Throw me a frickin' bone."

Translations:
Stierschiesse--bullshit
Ich denke, dab ich Ihren Sohn heiraten mochte--I think
I want to marry your son.

=====
Scribe, making the world a better place through smut!
Plot, plot, plot. Smut, smut, smut. Decisions, decisions, decisions. I must rearrange my priorities.
Have you tried looking under your bed? Perhaps you can find a clue there.
I wouldn't mind the wombats in my lingerie drawer, but they WILL insist on wearing my Wonderbra.

 

---

 

Title: Randy Newman Had the Right Idea
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Austin Powers/X Files
Pairing: Scott Evil/Alex Krycek
Status: Finished
Sequel/Series: The Evil Series
Archive: WWOMB, CKoS, Down in the Basement, Texfiles, others ask, give a credit, and post my email address for feedback.
Criticism: Yes.
Feedback: Yes. poet77665@yahoo.com My private forum at fanfiction.net is http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?fanaction=userforum&RoomID=1762
Web pages: Scribe Scribbles at http://www.geocities.com/poet_77665 for original prose, poetry and madness, and fanfiction. The Poetic Site, for my X Files Krycek/Mulder Poetic slash series. http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver. Most of my work can also be found at http://www.fanfiction.net under the name Scribe.
Disclaimer: Scott and his associates belong to Mike Myers. Alex and Mulder belong to Chris Carter, and I think they're both just poopy for not sharing. No profit turned, no money earned. Entertainment is my goal, but comments feed my mortal soul.
Summary: Alex is on a sleep over at the Evil compound, and runs into some more of the Evil household.

Author's Notes:
Short People by Randy Newman

Short People got no reason.
Short People got no reason.
Short people got no reason to live
They got little hands
And little eyes
And they walk around
Tellin' great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feet
Well, I don't want no
Short People
Don't want no
Short People
Don't want no
Short People
Round here
Short People
are just the same
As you and I
(A Fool Such As I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(It's A Wonderful World)
Short People got nobody
Short People got nobody
Short People got nobody
To love
They got little baby legs
And they stand so low
You got to pick 'em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin' peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They're gonna get you every time
Well, I don't want no
Short People
Don't want no
Short People
Don't want no
Short People
'Round here.

Warning: Yes, I know it's politically incorrect to make fun of the vertically challenged. Give me credit, people.
Rating: R

---

Randy Newman Had the Right Idea

Scott Evil was giggling madly as Alex Krycek, lying full length on top of him, licked his neck. Alex was licking his neck while he decided the next part of Scott that he wanted to taste. Scott suddenly gasped, "Oh, shit! I forgot to do a sweep! Lemme up, Alex."

Alex, understanding perfectly about the importance of security, rolled off him. "I'll help. What are we looking for? Bugs? Explosives? Hidden cameras? By the way, if it's bugs or cameras, can I have copies of what we do? I can get Mulder so hot his zipper will melt."

Scott peered cautiously under his bed. "It's more along the lines of road kill."

"What?"

Scott gingerly tweezed the top sheet of the bed between thumb and forefinger and lifted it, squinting in anticipation. All he uncovered was a pair of underwear. "Hey, and I thought I was out of clean skivvies." He picked them up, looked at them, took a sniff, thought, then shrugged, and dropped them in a dresser drawer. "Flat cats, skunk pancakes, armadillo pate'."

"You find these on a regular basis?"

"It's better than the horse apples." Scott checked each drawer. "Aw, SHIT! Look at what that little..." He paused, looking closer. "No, that's the left over pizza from last Tuesday." He reached in and broke off a bit of crust, munching it. When he saw Alex's look he said, "Don't give me that. The dry desert air preserves it."

"I didn't say anything. Considering some of the things I had to eat during survival training with my real employers, week old pizza is a delicacy."

Scott went to his closet. "Check the bathroom, huh? And be DAMN sure you look at the toilet seat before you sit down. Dad's always talking about how he had his scrotum shaved when he was fifteen. I bet he wished he'd kept it up after Mini Me pulled that stunt with the super glue on his seat."

"So I'm just looking for booby traps?" Alex went into the attached bathroom. He carefully checked the toilet, medicine cabinet, and shower. Alex also checked out the reading material in the magazine rack beside the toilet. *Hm. Playboy AND Manbeat.* He tried to rifle the pages, and smiled. *And stuck together pages in both. That's my Scott.* There was a yell from the bedroom, and he bolted out, gun in hand. Scott was holding a pair of Doc Martins, a disgusted look on his face. "What is it?" Silently Scott upended the shoes. Unidentifiable lumps pattered to the floor, in a rain of what looked like fine gravel. "What the fuck?"

Scott gritted his teeth. "I knew Mini Me was up to something when he volunteered to clean Mr. Bigglesworth's litter box."

"Oh, man!" Alex sniffed, then wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah. I tried to tell Dad he should put him on a special Science Diet formula food, the one with chlorophyll. Not only would his shit stink less, but it would make sure he didn't have bladder problems, which would stop him peeing on Dad's chair in the conference room. You'd think THAT would persuade him, but NOOOO..."

"You mean to tell me that someone put cat shit in your Doc Martins?"

"Not just them, man. My Nikes, my Reeboks... Damn, he even made little piles on my sandals."

Alex peered into the closet. "Thorough bastard."

Scott sighed. "Well, it could be worse, I guess. At least I looked before I stuck my foot into anything. I can just close the closet door for now." He did.

Scott rubbed his face. "The mood is kinda spoiled. Want to hit the kitchen? Mom makes a killer strudel."

"I could eat." He grabbed Scott's butt.

Scott snickered, slapping at his hands. "Later. C'mon, I know there's beer."

They left the room, and Krycek said, "Just a moment." He unwrapped a stick of gum and chewed it briefly, then removed it from his mouth and stretched it out.

Scott watched, interested. "My mom never let me do that. She said it was gross, but I always thought it was kind cool."

"It's useful, anyway." Alex bent down and plastered the main blob on the doorframe, and the second blob on the door, attached by a gooey string. "Okay."

"What kind didya use?"

Alex bent forward and made a kissing motion. "Guess."

Scott happily gave him a very sloppy, intrusive kiss, then stood back, smacking his lips thoughtfully. "Juicyfruit."

"How terribly politically incorrect of you, my dear. Though I can't argue with you about the juicy part, I certainly don't think of myself as a fruit. Speaking of which, what type of strudel did your Mom make?"

"Dunno. Let's go find out."

They made their way to the kitchen, and stopped just inside the door. "Scott, what the hell is a plaid walrus doing in your kitchen?"

"Fat Bastard!" Scott yelled.

The floor shook as the behemoth in front of the refrigerator turned. There was a roast chicken in each hand and probably a third in his mouth. "Wha'?"

"Son of a bitch!" Scott surveyed the kitchen. There were opened boxes and cans and empty bowls, plates, and platters on every flat surface.

Fat Bastard belched. "Eh, Scotty boy. Ya got tha name right tha firs' time. It's Bastard. Now," he ripped half of the chicken off and chewed thoughtfully. "While some maht argue that a son o' a bitch WAS a bastard, technically..."

"Shove it!"

Fat Bastard chuckled. "Now laddie, while ah'm all for food play, ah dunna think that a chicken would be..." He trailed off, eyeing the chicken in his right hand. "Weel, ah suppose if ye used plenty o' butter an' mebbe tied th' wings..."

"Don't you DARE finish that thought! Have you left ANYTHING?"

Fat Bastard scratched his head with a chicken. "Weel, I dunno. I MAY have missed summat."

"Not from lack of trying," Alex said, looking at the destruction.

The rest of the chickens disappeared as Fat Bastard stared at Alex. "An' who's this likely lad?"

"My friend, Alex. Get your eyes off him," Scott said shortly.

"Now Scott. He's disgusting, but there's no reason to be so short with him."

"You don't understand, Alex. He'll eat you."

Alex gave Fat Bastard a queasy look. "Not in this lifetime."

"No, you don't understand. He'll EAT you. With mint sauce."

"Ah resent that!" Fat Bastard said indignantly. "Besides, mint sauce is for spring, an' it's autumn. Now, CRANBERRY SAUCE..."

"Scott, there's a pan of strudel on that counter under that empty Cheetos bag. Get it and back out behind me, very slowly."

As Scott obeyed Fat Bastard spluttered. "Now, laddies, no need to be so suspicious." He burped. The walls trembled briefly. "See? Ahm quite full. Uh, wouldya mind puttin' that strudel back?" Fat Bastard started to waddle toward them.

Alex drew his gun. Scott yelled, "For God's sake! You got any idea what will happen if you puncture him?"

"What?"

"Alex, there are two empty institutional size pinto beans cans on the table! THINK!"

Alex blanched. "Oh, my Lord!"

"Yeah, that's right. There'll be an explosion to rival White Sands, and the fall out will be a lot more deadly."

Fat Bastard was still advancing. He crooned, "Scott, I allus liked you, ya pretty little girly boy. C'mere an' I'll show ya a genuine haggis."

Scott made a sound somewhere between a moan and a retch. Alex looked around desperately for an alternative weapon. He grabbed a can of whipped cream, flipping the cap off with his thumb as he shook it. "Stand back, or I'll let you have it."

Fat Bastard wiggled his hands. "Ooo, ahm SO scared!" He ground his hips, the kilt flapping. "C'mon, sport. Ah have a cream scone big enough for the both o' yas."

"It reminds me of that Walt Disney movie with the hippos and elephants in tutus. RUN, SCOTT!" As Scott scampered back down the hall, Alex depressed the nozzle. A stream of white goop spewed out, burying Fat Bastard's face. As Alex had anticipated Fat Bastard stopped immediately and began scraping the fluff off his face, eating it. Alex made his escape.

He caught up with Scott farther up the hall. "Thanks, Alex. I'd rather not have to kill myself."

"Just remember, Scott. Keep a roll of Lifesavers or a bag of Fritos on you at all times. Throw food, and you should be able to escape."

They came to Scott's room, and as Scott reached for the door, Alex caught his hand. "Wait." He pointed down.

Scott squatted and looked. "Hey." There was not strand between the two blobs of gum.

Alex held his finger to his lips, then leaned his ear against the door. After a moment he nodded and mouthed, "Wait here." He jerked the door open, darted in, and slammed the door shut behind him.

There was a blood curdling string of sounds from behind the door: thumps, crashes, and high pitched yowls. Then the sound of the toilet flushing. And flushing. And flushing.

"Oh, wow. That does NOT sound good!" Scott whispered.

The door opened. A disheveled Alex stood there, straightening his lapels and smoothing his hair. "All right. You can come in now."

Scott came in cautiously, peering around. "What happened, dude?"

"Tell me, this Mini Me you told me about, does he look like your Dad after he'd been left out in the rain, then put in the drier on high?"

"Uh, yeah. That's pretty accurate."

"The little asshole was short sheeting your bed. And he also slipped a dye disc into your showerhead. Blue. You would have ended up looking like Mel Gibson in Braveheart."

Scott looked around. "So, where is he?"

Alex crooked a finger, led Scott to the bathroom, and pointed. Scott saw a pair of size two shoes sticking straight up out of the toilet. They wiggled. Alex said, "He's stuck. Can't get back out, but I figure if he's motivated enough he'll be able to crawl through to the main sewer line, then make his way out."

Alex reached over and flushed the toilet again. Scott could hear high pitched squeals over the rushing water. He looked at Alex with moist eyes. "I love you."

"C'mon, sweetheart." Alex put a hand around Scott's shoulders and led him back to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He took the strudel.

"It's apple. You can have all of it. I'll just watch you eat." Scott's voice was adoring.

Alex took the pan. "That's sweet, kid." He put the pan down on a table and shook the can of whipped cream. "But..." He pulled Scott's waistband out and shoved the nozzle under it, squeezing. There was a hiss, and as Scott squealed Alex said, "But I want to have dessert first."

=====
Scribe, making the world a better place through smut!
Plot, plot, plot. Smut, smut, smut. Decisions, decisions, decisions. I must rearrange my priorities.
Have you tried looking under your bed? Perhaps you can find a clue there.
I wouldn't mind the wombats in my lingerie drawer, but they WILL insist on wearing my Wonderbra.

 

---

 

Title: Pout For Me, Baby.
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Austin Powers/X Files
Pairing: Scott/Mulder/Alex
Status: Finished
Sequel/Series: The Evil Series
Archive: WWOMB, CKoS, anyone else who wants, ask, give credit, and provide my email address for feedback
Criticism: Yes.
Feedback: Yes. poet77665@yahoo.com My private forum at fanfiction.net is http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?fanaction=userforum&RoomID=1762
Web pages: Scribe Scribbles at http://www.geocities.com/poet_77665 for original prose, poetry and madness, and fanfiction. The Poetic Site, for my X Files Krycek/Mulder Poetic slash series. http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver. Most of my work can also be found at http://www.fanfiction.net under the name Scribe.
Disclaimer: None of these yummy guys are mine, except in an alternate universe, which I visit frequently.
Summary: Scott and Alex work on Mulder's inhibitions
Rating: NC-17

---

Pout For Me, Baby!

Fox Mulder sighed heavily as he unlocked his hotel room and stepped inside. *Well, THIS weekend certainly hasn't worked out like I planned. I thought I was gonna get to whoop it up with some hot CIA babe, with maybe a side dish of Scully. What do I get instead? Peyton Place with a short spy with bad teeth. Crap. It's gotta be the damn aliens, NO ONE could could have this kind of luck without outside interference.*

He frowned, noticing that the lights were on. Hadn't he left them off? Then he heard it... a sound from the bathroom! He pulled his gun and advanced cautiously. He kicked the door open.

Scott Evil, standing in front of the toilet, jumped and squawked, falling back against the wall, round eyed. "FUCK! Scare a guy to death, whydoncha?"

Very bewildered, Mulder did not immediately lower his gun. "What are you doing here?"

Scott waved his hands. "Uh, DUH? It's a toilet, man. What the hell do you usually do in a toilet? Damn, all I can say is one, I'm glad I peed BEFORE you kicked the fuckin' door in, and two, I'm glad I had it put away. Gettin' caught in the zipper is NOT my idea of a fun evening."

Mulder winced in sympathy. "Okay, what are you doing HERE? And where's Alex? And how did you get in?"

Scott scratched his chin. "He SAID you were a nosy bastard."

"Hey!"

"Don't get all touch, Cutie. Okay, let's answer these one at a time. How did I get in? Simple. I snitched Alex's room key while he was sacked out."

Mulder frowned. "Damn, I didn't think he was that careless."

Scott snickered. "Well, he was more PASSED out than sacked out. We... uh... got kinda vigorous. Unless he's decided to get up and run around, he's at the Evil Compound, in my room, in my bed. Unless he rolled off again. Ya know, he's not all THAT big, but he makes a hell of a thump when he falls off a bed."

"I don't think I want to know how you found that out."

"Restraints broke."

"I said I didn't want to know."

"Tough titty. As to why I'm here, I wanna take a shower."

Mulder finally laid the gun aside on the cabinet. "Don't you have a shower at your place?"

"Yeah, but there's a clone stuck in the toilet right now, and the idea of gettin' naked in the same room kinda grosses me out, ya know? So I figured I'd come over here and sluice off." He lifted his arm and sniffed delicately at a pit. "I'm gettin' kinda ripe, and I'm all sticky. That canned whipped cream is wicked gummy if you don't get it all off." He pulled up his shirt. "Feel."

Mulder started to reach out, then jerked his hand back. "I can take your word for it."

Scott snorted. "That ain't what Alex said. He said you'd never be satisfied about ANYTHING till you got your hot little hands on it."

Mulder looked indignant. "Why, that..."

"Chill. He's got a great deal of interest in your hot little hands." He grabbed Mulder's hand and slapped it against his abdomen. "See what I mean?" The FBI agent froze, hand splayed flat against the teenager's belly. "Go on, try to move your fingers without peeling them up. You're pasted."

Fox stroked tentatively. "It IS a little tacky."

"Right. I need to shower before I have to use a solvent to get my clothes off." He skinned his shirt over his head. Mulder's hand stayed in place, and Scott looked down at it. Folding his arms he gazed at Mulder and said, "As long as you're down there, howsabout gettin' the buttons for me?"

"Uh... I don't know..."

"It's simple, man. Just kinda push on the side of each button, then pull the material to the other side, and they just s-l-i-d-e on out."

"That's not what I meant. I know how to open buttons." Scott smirked. "I do so!"

"Prove it."

"Fuck!" Mulder started jerking Scott's fly open, muttering to himself. "Act like I can't open a simple button..."

"Yeah, he said you wouldn't be able to resist a dare." Mulder stopped, scowling up at him. Scott's eyebrows went up. "Lose track?" Mulder finished working the buttons quickly. "Thanks." He pushed the pants down.

Mulder blinked, then cleared his throat. "Uh... no underwear?"

Scott pulled a pair out of his pant's pocket. "I only have one clean pair. Ya didn't think I was gonna put them on until I'm clean, didya?" Scott opened the shower and turned on the water. Testing it, he said, "Strip."

Mulder blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Strip and get in with me or get out of the room. I don't know you well enough for you to hang around and watch me shower."

"But you WOULD shower with me?"

Scott shrugged. "Different things, dude." Scott stepped into the shower. "Better hurry. Dad's working with some gadget to screw around with the electrical system of Las Vegas, and ya never know. He might actually succeed, and we'd lose the hot water."

Mulder could see a wavery image of Scott through the frosted glass of the shower door. The boy was whistling, scrubbing a bar of soap over his chest and shoulders. Mulder started to unbutton his shirt. Scott's hands moved down, rubbbing the bar around his crotch. A little surprised, Mulder looked down at his own crotch, and noticed a very definite lift in the fly.

"Whoops!" Scott tossed the soap onto the floor. "Dammit, dropped the soap!" He turned his back to Mulder and bent at the waist, giving a slightyly blurry, but very tempting, view of his butt.

Fox swallowed hard. "I... uh... I'll wait outside."

Scott sounded vaguely annoyed. "Suit yourself, man."

Fox went and sat on the edge of the bed, spread his knees, and stared down at his tented fly. "All right," he whispered. "We make a deal. You just be patient, and I'll get rid of him as quickly as possible, then we can watch something on the pay-per-view-porno channel." *Throb* "I said no! No teenybopper. We'll watch Forrest Hump, okay?" *Pulse* "Okay, how about Baby Oil Orgy: you liked that one last night." *Throb* "NO! He's a GUY, all right?" *PULSE!* "Jesus! Compromise: how about Backdoor Boys?"

Scott, wrapped in a towel, came out of the bathroom. "Mulder, are you talking to your dick?"

Mulder whipped his knees together. A little too quickly, as it were, because he got a pained look on his face. "No."

"Are you sure? Alex bet me ten bucks that you talk to your privates."

"He... You were discussing my privates?"

Scott dropped down on the bed beside him. "I'll discuss anyone's privates, as long as they're not too hideous, and you're definitely not that." He hooked a leg over Mulder's.

Mulder eased it back off (though he DID manage to get a good feel of firm thigh while he was doing it). "Scott, I don't think Alex would like you being here and... uh..."

"Coming on to you?"

"I guess."

"I'm glad you noticed. I was beginning to think you were even more socially retarded than I thought. Anyway, Alex wouldn't mind. He's a share the wealth kinda guy." Scott threw an arm around Mulder's shoulders. "Tell me the truth, Mulder." He held thumb and forefinger about an inch apart. "You're about THIS far from being a virgin, ain'tcha?"

"I am not!" Mulder was indignant.

"Oo, you ARE cute when you pout."

Fox resisted the urge to stamp his feet. "I DO NOT pout!"

"What-evah, sweetcheeks."

"I've had lots of sex!"

"How much of it was with other people?"

"Well..."

"Thought so. And how much of THAT was with guys?"

"None. I'm straight."

Scott rolled his eyes and said in a bored voice. "Fine. You're straight. You're a ruler. You're a plumb line. Your one of those funny-ass tube thingies with a bubble in the liquid that they use to level stuff."

"As long as we're clear about that."

"Check." Scott pointed at an open bag of sunflower seeds on the nightstand. "Can I have some of those?"

"Oh. Sure." Mulder started to reach for them.

"Don't bother. I can help myself." Scott reached across Mulder, snagging the celophane bag. He poured a small amount into his palm, then held up the bag. "Want some?"

"Just a couple." Scott shook two into Mulder's palm. As he laid aside the bad, Mulder put one seed in his mouth, cracked it with his teeth, spat out the shell into an ashtray, and munched the seed.

Scott watched this procedure. Fox repeated it, and Scott said, "Dude, you're wasting a lot of motion there."

"There isn't really any other way to eat them."

"Sure there is." Scott stood up. Before Mulder could protest, he'd straddled the FBI agent's lap, sitting down so that the towel rode up his thighs. One hand gripped Mulder's shoulder. "Relax, I just want you to be able to see this clearly." He popped the sunflower seeds into his mouth and handed the ashtray to Fox. Mumbling, "Hold this," he put his onther hand on Fox's other shoulder. "Watch."

Scott concentrated, and started making a face. Mulder could see his tongue poking at his cheeks. There was a muted crack. Scott bent his head and spat a shell into the ashtray, then chewed and swallowed. Then the tongue poking started again. Another crack. Spit. Chew.

Mulder watched, fascinated. "I don't believe this." The tongue was busily working again. Crack. "You're doing that with a bunch of them in your mouth, and you're NOT swallowing shells?"

Spit. Chew. "It's all technique, man." Scott's voice was a bit garbled, since he still had several seeds to go. "You should see what I can do to a marischino cherry stem."

"I've seen that done before. So you can tie a knot in it."

"I can do a sheep's shank." Poke. Crack. Spit. Chew. "That's it." He set the ashtray aside, then ran his tongue thoughtfully over his lips. "Mmm. That was good. I think they were a teeny bit too salty, though. Tell me what you think." Scott kissed Mulder quickly, pushing his tongue into his mouth. Mulder wilted all over, except his cock. That was at attention, stiffer than a Marine on dress parade. Scott pulled back. "Well?"

"I don't know. I need another example."

"Sure." Scott started to reach for the sunflower seeds.

"Not like that." Mulder grabbed him and fell back on the bed, dragging the boy down with him.

"All right!" Scott kissed him enthusiastically, squirming and wrestling.

Mulder came up for air, panting. "Yeah, a little salty." He looked down. "How the fuck did my shirt come off without me noticing it?"

"You were preoccupied."

"I can buy that, but what about the pants?"

"I was busy."

"And the shorts?"

"Look, I'm good, okay?"

"I just don't understand how we laid down on this bed with you wearing a towel and me fully dressed, and now you have on more than I do."

"I can take care of that." The towel sailed across the room. "Happy?" Scott rubbed their crotchs together. Mulder moaned. Scott looked between their bodies. "Well, PART of you is happy, anyway. What's the problem?"

"I told you, I'm straight."

Scott peered down. "Um, actually I think you curve just the TINIEST bit to the right, but that's not a problem."

Fox scowled. "Why won't you listen to me?"

"Oo, look at that bottom lip! Ya know, I used to think Austin was a geek, shouting 'Pout for me, baby!' at his models. Now I'm not so sure. Look..." Scott lay back on top of him. He propped his elbows on Mulder's chest and rested his chin in his hands. "I had this discussion with Austin. Most people are at least bi, if they meet the right person."

"But I never..." Scott moved his hips. Mulder groaned. "I mean, I haven't..." Scott ground slowly. "...yet..."

"Mulder, you've been working with one of the hottest studmuffins on the face of the earth. If you haven't at least THOUGHT about it, you need to have that doctor expartner of yours take a look at you, 'cause your hormones may need adjusting. Although..." He reached down and grabbed, "they seem to be functioning pretty well now."

Mulder was whimpering. "Ican'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan't..."

*Squeeze* "Got physical proof right here that ya can, dude. Still, if it's the whole Dominant/submissive/top/bottom/pitch/catch/I'm-not-gay-as-long-as-I'm-driving thing that's givin' you problems..." Scott roled off him, landing on his back and throwing his legs wide, "It's fine by me. Mount up."

Mulder, panting, looked sideways at him. "No protection."

Scott pointed. "Drawer in the night stand."

"What? How did you...? And why...?"

"Alex told me. He never goes anywhere without his supplies. You may have the boy scout mentality, but he's got that 'Be prepared' shit DOWN. Oh, and before you try to use THAT as an excuse, there should be lube, too."

Muttering to himself, Mulder opened the drawer and came up with the supplies. Scott held out his hand. "Gimme the tube. If I wait for you to get me open, we'll be here till Wayne Newton quits playin' the strip."

Mulder watched, fascinated, as Scott squeezed some gel out on his fingers, then reached down to spread his own cheeks. "I just can't understand enjoying that." He watched as one greased finger disappeared, then two.

"Then why are you drooling?"

Mulder touched his chin apprehensively. "I am not."

"Not there, dumbass." Mulder yelped as Scott reached out and stroked his prick, rubbing his palm over the head. "See?" He showed Mulder the slick smear. "Anyway," Scott groaned happily as he managed to work a third finger in. "Probably all you have to compare it with is a prostate exam. Florescent lights, a table with stirrups, and some guy in a white coat don't exactly make for a hot experience." He paused, "Well, not unless you're experienced enough to be into kink." He suddenly gasped.

"Shit! I knew it! You hurt yourself! Lemme get my cell phone, I'll call 911."

"Hold up, gallant rescuer. I just hit my prostate, that's all. Okay." He grabbed his knees and pulled back. "C'mon, stud."

"But... but...."

"Yup." Scott wiggled. "Butt, right here. Hurry up, I feel a breeze."

"Oh, man. I don't believe I'm doing this." Mulder moved up between Scott's legs.

"Ya believe in shit like world-wide conspiracies, alien abductions, demonic possession, and fuckin' GHOSTS, and ya can't believe you're about to get a little same sex ass? You're weird. Sexy, but weird."

"How should I...?"

"Works on the same principle as regular humping, man. Put it in and move." He paused. "NOW!"

"Gah, you're pushy!"

"Well, if you didn't procrastinate like... oooooo. That's nice."

*groan* "Um, thank you. You're..." *pant* "BOY, you're tight."

"Really? Glad to hear it, after the last few hours with Alex. Now, don't just STAND there. Put your ass in gear."

"Okay."

There were several minutes of increasingly vigorous activity. "Hey, Mulder, once you get used to the idea you're gonna be a real stud-puppy."

"You think so?"

Scott locked his legs around Mulder's waist. "Trust me. You managed to get past the 'omygawd he's a guy' thing. You can get past the other thing."

"I'm screwing you. I'd say I've pretty well overcome my inhibitions."

"Hi Alex." Mulder froze. Scott squeezed. "Hey, no letting up! Is he always this easily distracted?"

Alex shut the door and came over to the bed. "No, maybe it's just me. Hi, Scott." Alex cocked his head, "Hi, Mulder. Please, don't stop on my account."

Mulder had been flushed, now he looked like he'd spent five or six hours under a sunlamp. "Alex, this isn't what it looks like."

Alex sat down. "Mulder, it looks like you're fucking Scott. I can't think of very many other things it COULD look like."

Mulder started to pull away, but Scott had his ankles locked. "Scott, lemme, go."

"Uh-uh."

"Look, you gotta let me go!"

"Mulder, do you see this laying up along my belly here? Do you know what it is?"

"A... um, an erection."

"A fuckin' hard-on, Mulder. And it won't go away on it's own. Get to work." Scott blinked. "Damn, I can feel heat radiating off you. I haven't seen anyone blush like that since Number Two came up behind me while I was cruising the Steamy Studs Site on the 'net."

"Anyway, Scott," Alex said, "How do we stand?"

"You owe me ten bucks."

"Not twenty? I was surprised when I walked in on this. I figured it would've taken you at least a half hour to get him going."

"Just ten. You were right about him talkin' to his dick, so it brings it down."

"I DON'T BELIEVE THIS! You two were laying bets on me being seduced?" Mulder jerked.

Scott whooped. "Hot DAMN! Do that again!" Mulder scowled. "Aww, look! Alex, he's pouting again! I can't STAND it!"

"Mulder, will you relax? It wasn't so much a bet as a... um... Okay, it was a bet. I just thought it was about time you took the step. I figured Scott could help you get over your 'doin' it with a guy' taboo, and I was right. Now it's time for you to get over your other taboo." Alex got up and moved behind him.

"WHAT taboo?" Mulder jerked a few more time, causing Scott to writhe and coo (and, actually, he wasn't EXACTLY trying to get away by this time). "Sheep?"

There was the rustling of cloth. "Nope. Partners."

"HEY!"

Scott tightened his legs and mimed a kiss at Mulder. "Pout for me, baby!"

=====
Scribe, making the world a better place through smut!
Plot, plot, plot. Smut, smut, smut. Decisions, decisions, decisions. I must rearrange my priorities.
We do not stand on ceremony here. We lay down on it and suck it dry. Brian Kelly.
I wouldn't mind the wombats in my lingerie drawer, but they WILL insist on wearing my Wonderbra.

 

---

 

Title: De Nile Is Not Just A River In Egypt
Author: Scribe
Fandom: Austin Powers/X Files
Pairing: Scott/Mulder/Alex
Status: Finished
Sequel/Series: The Evil Series Sequel to Pout For Me, Baby!
Archive: You want it, you got it. Just post a credit, my email addy, and my site URL.
Criticism: Yes.
Feedback: Yes. poet77665@yahoo.com My private forum at fanfiction.net is http://www.fanfiction.net/index.fic?fanaction=userforum&RoomID=1762
Web pages: Scribe Scribbles at http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/scribescribbles for original prose, poetry and madness, and fanfiction. The Poetic Site, for my X Files Krycek/Mulder Poetic slash series. http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/foxluver. Most of my work can also be found at http://www.fanfiction.net under the name Scribe.
Disclaimer: All things Powers belong to Mike Meyers. All things X Files belong to Chris Carter
Summary: Scott and Alex are doing their best to convince Mulder, but he's being stubborn.
Author's Notes: When last we left Scott Evil, he was, uh, in 'congress' with Fox Mulder, and Alex Krycek (whom Scott had made serious whoopie with earlier) had just come in, and was apparently preparing to enter, if you know what I mean, and I think you do. 'Try it, you'll like it' was an Alka-Seltzer slogan.
Warning: Multiple partners, comic treatment of coersion.
Rating: NC-17

---

De Nile Is Not Just A River In Egypt

Mulder reached back, trying to pry Scott's ankles apart, but they were locked tighter than Brittany Spear's chastity belt. Scott sighed, enjoying the squirming, which made Mulder move around inside him in VERY interesting ways. "Dude, I like what you're doing, but you ain't going anywhere, believe me." Krycek had his shirt off and was unbuckling his belt. "He's right, Mulder. The boy's legs may be a bit short..."

"Hey!"

"Sorry, cupcake, but let's face it: you're short. That only makes you more adorable."

"All right, then."

"As I was saying, short, but VERY muscular."

"Track. Normally I hate physical exertion if it isn't sex, but with my Dad and Mini Me and Fat Bastard around, being able to run fast is a good idea. Fuck, it's a survival tactic."

"This is all fascinating, but LET GO!" Mulder pinched Scott on the hip, and the boy yelped.

"Hey! You gotta agree on a safe word before you start the S and M shit, Mulder!"

There was a jingle as Krycek's trousers hit the floor. "Oh, crap! PLEASE let go."

Scott grinned. "Beg."

There was the double thunk of Krycek's shoes hitting the floor. Mulder looked back in time to see him sliding his underwear down. "Shit! Pleasepleaseplease!"

"Nah."

"Why, you little..." Scott squeezed. "fine ass bastard. Oo." "Mulder," Scott braced his arms on the bed and shoved up at the agent, impaling himself even deeper. "Why do you think I'm doing this? For my health? To earn a boy scout badge?"

"Meritorious Humping," Krycek commented, going to search the night stand.

"It sure would solve a lot of the crap they've had about gay scoutmasters, I guess. Anyway, I do this because I LIKE IT. I don't do things I don't like. Ask Number Two. He spent most of my life trying to nag me into cleaning my room every day. Or Dad. He's been trying to get me to join the Future Evil Geniuses of America for ages. Like I'd be part of something called FEGA."

"Look, kid, I may be a psychologist, but I don't do family counseling."

"Geek. My point is, this feels GOOD. Try it, you'll like it."

"You're not fooling me. I'm old enough to remember the rest of that commercial. The guys says, 'So I tried it. Thought I was gonna die.'"

"Since when do you trust Madison Avenue? Dude, they're the ones who tried to convince us that New Coke was a good thing."

Mulder paused in his struggles to look thoughtful. "You know, I'm pretty sure that was some sort of a conspiracy. My theory is that they wanted to change the formula, so they pulled it off the market and gave us crap, then pretended to cave in to consumer demand and put the reformulated soft drink back on the market, knowing that the addicts would be too desperate to notice a subtle difference, and..."

"Alex, will you hurry up and fuck him? Maybe that will shut him up."

Alex had found the Astroglide, and was squeezing some out onto his fingers. "Don't count on it." Mulder yelped and jumped as Alex stroked his ass. "Oh, come on, Fox. I'm warming it up."

"Look, there are definite consent issues going on here, Alex," Fox said desperately. His voice rose in pitch as Alex gently parted his buttocks. "SERIOUS consent issues."

"Okay, Fox, so I won't fuck you."

"WHAT?" Scott reared up to glare at him. "Look, man, this was for your benefit. I mean sure, I'd have screwed him anyway, but I would have preferred face down or doggy style. Missionary is a bitch on my back when I really get going, and..." Alex had his eyebrows raised, and was holding a finger to his lips behind Mulder's back. "Uh... okay. But I'm telling you, Mulder, you're depriving yourself."

"Fox, I'm just going to give you a little bit of a massage while you finish up with Scott, okay?"

"Well..." Krycek kneaded his ass, and Fox's expression went slack with pleasure. "Yeah, that would be okay. I mean, guys get massages from other guys in gyms all over the world, right?"

"Right," agreed Krycek, working his fingers on the pale globes. "Gyms, saunas, bath houses, hot tubs..."

"Alex, where the hell do you think that finger is going?"

"Not really many places for it TO go, is there? Relax. I'm gonna give you a colonic massage. Very relaxing."

"I've never heard of it."

"New technique."

"Scully usually keeps up on these sort of things, and she hasn't said a word about it."

"It's not in her field of expertise. It's for health purposes, Mulder."

"Oh. Well, if it's for health purposes... Ooo..."

His hips jerked as a slick finger slid into his rectum, and Scott said dreamily, "Thank you, Alex."

Mulder was panting. As Alex worked the finger back and forth he gasped, "Alex, you're moving it."

"Duh," said Scott. "Massage usually involves moving the hands, doesn't it?"

"I guess so."

"I'm not reaching the area that needs attention." Krycek gripped Mulder's hip with his other hand and pressed a second finger into the narrow channel.

Mulder whined. "Krycek, that feels a little uncomfortable."

"Of course it does. Deep, penetrating massage makes you ache a little before the good feeling sets in, surely you know that?"

"I guess, but I'm not sure I want..." Krycek pushed very hard, crooking his fingers, and fireworks went off, both in Mulder's head and his crotch.

"Damn, Alex, do it again!" said Scott, watching Mulder in fascination. "I think he's speaking in tongues."

"I knew he was going to be noisy when he got started. He's probably noisy when he jerks off."

"Maybe we can find out later?"

"Let's concentrate on getting through this first." Alex shoved again, and Mulder whimpered, trying to push back to meet him. "Mulder, how's the massage going?"

"Huh?"

"I said, do you want to continue?"

"Fuck, yeah."

"You know, I think that you might benefit from really, REALLY deep massage."

"You mean you can go deeper than this?"

"Yes, with the proper, er, instrument."

"Do it."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Look, Scully is always griping at me to take better care of myself, so this is one thing I can do for my health. It IS for my health, right?"

"I promise you that it's the best tension and stress reliever known to man."

"Then do it." "Yeah, bring on the equipment," Scott crowed. "But don't forget to put the protective shield on."

*crinkle* *roll*

Mulder was babbling. "Yeah, if it's going to be an invasive procedure, you should go through the whole sterilizing regime, but that takes a lot of time."

"Frau says human spit is an antiseptic." Krycek leaned around Mulder to stare at Scott, who shrugged. "She did whenever she wanted to clean my face when we weren't near a sink."

Mulder and Krycek exchanged looks. "No," Alex assured him. "Not this time, anyway. I think it's a mother-propaganda thing. Look, Mulder, concentrate on screwing Scott, and I'll finish this up for you, okay? Just hold still for a second so I can get the instrument in place."

Mulder moaned as the 'instrument' was pressed up inside him. Alex moaned, too. Fox said, "Alex? What's wrong, why are you making that noise? Did you put it in wrong?"

"Does it FEEL like I put it in wrong?"

"Hell no."

"Fine. Shut up and I'll turn it on."

"I thought HE was gonna turn it on." Scott smirked.

Alex jerked his hips, driving deep into Mulder, which in turn shoved him deeper into Scott, which brought a yelp from everyone involved. "Smart ass kid. Teach him a lesson, Mulder. Screw his brains out."

"But Krycek, he's so cute." Scott stuck his tongue out at him. His timing was perfect. It inspired a flurry of short, hard strokes that had him howling with pleasure. Krycek did a little howling himself, because Mulder's back strokes drove him back on Krycek's prick. "Man, Krycek, you're GOOD at this! Did you take training?"

"Some, but it's mostly self taught. Okay, now we need to go for the glandular secretions to, uh, cleanse you. Yeah, that's right. It's clean your pipes. Let's see if I can trigger it."

Alex threw himself against Mulder, throwing Mulder against Scott. Just before he did, Scott unhooked his feet. It never occurred to Mulder to try to get away now. Scott stretched, but his legs were way too short to reach around Alex, too, but he managed to wiggle his heels encouragingly against the dark haired agent's sides.

"I think he's almost there, Alex," Scott yelled. "You get his balls, I'll get his nipples." Mulder made more noise than the monkey house when half the females are in estrus and the other half has PMS when they started the double assault. Scott's fingers sought out the sharp points on his chest at the same time Alex reached down between his legs and tickled his testicles.

Mulder came like the fourth of July, complete with Roman candles and sparklers. Scott and Krycek weren't far behind. Soon they were a pile of sweaty, sated flesh. Scott grunted. "Guys? Oxygen." Alex pulled back, then sort of heaved the limp Mulder off Scott and onto the bed before lying down on his other side. They all panted, their breathing gradually slowing to normal.

Fox murmured. "Krycek? Is there a local gym in D.C. where they do this sort of massage? I didn't see it on the list of services offered by Gold's Gym."

"No, you usually have to go to a specialist for this. If you decide you're really interested, I can provide you with a few contacts."

"Is it expensive?"

"No, I can pretty much guarantee you that the guys I'm thinking about won't charge you. In fact, you'll probably get a nice dinner and maybe a movie out of it." Fox blinked, and Scott said, "You're confusing him, man."

Mulder sat up, and winced. He looked down at his right hip and rubbed a sore spot. "Damn, I got a bruise."

"Sorry about that," Alex apologized. "You were moving around a lot, and I had to get a good grip."

"Oh. Ow." Mulder rubbed his left hip. "Damn, you left finger marks when you..." His face went blank. "Wait a minute." He looked at his right hip. Then his left hip. Then his right hip. "If you were holding on to BOTH hips..."

"Yes?" Krycek smiled at him.

Scott rested his chin on his thigh, smiling up at him also. "Why are you griping? Do you see ME complaining about the bruises you put on MY hips?"

"But I wasn't giving you a colonic massage, I was..." He trailed off.

Scott held his fist over his head, then spread the fingers sharply. "FLASH! Lightbulb time."

Mulder cleared his throat, then said, "Oh, yeah, I remember. I banged the rental car door against my side when I shut it. You remember that, don't you, Alex?"

"No."

"Well, I did."

"Mulder, lay back down and shut up. I want to take a nap." Scott shoved Mulder's torso flat on the bed, then squirmed around till he had his head on Mulder's belly and his legs draped across Krycek's waist.

Mulder twitched a little at the soft tickle of the black, spiky hair. "Uh, Scott? Thanks, but you do realize that this was purely an experiment."

"Mm."

"I mean, a person needs to be open minded enough to try new experiences, even if they don't intend to ever do it again."

"Erm." Alex tickled Scott's kneecaps, earning a giggle and a gentle kick, before the other FBI agent also closed his eyes.

Mulder was starting to feel drowsy also. "Because I'm not gay."

"Uh."

"No, really. I'm not even bi. I was just curious, and now my curiosity is satisfied." He sighed voluptuously. "Boy, is it satisfied. So, we can all just kind of pretend this didn't happen. Right?"

Krycek sighed. "Mulder, you are SO Egyptian."

"What's that supposed to mean."

Scott cracked one eye and managed one more smirk before drifting off to sleep. "Never mind, Cleopatra. Just get your asp to sleep."

=====
Scribe, making the world a better place through smut!

Plot, plot, plot. Smut, smut, smut. Decisions, decisions, decisions. I must rearrange my priorities.

We do not stand on ceremony here. We lay down on it and suck it dry. Brian Kelly.

I wouldn't mind the wombats in my lingerie drawer, but they WILL insist on wearing my Wonderbra.

Archived: August 29, 2001

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