Knick Knack, Paddywhack

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.