Title: Hairless? I Could Care Less.

Author/pseudonym: Scribe

Fandom: Austin Powers/xfiles

Pairing: Scott Evil/Walter Skinner

Rating: NC-17

Status: WIP

Archive: Yes, to any archive that recieves this (RS, WWOMB, allslash, etc.)

Feedback: Pretty please.

Series/Sequel: The Evil Series

Disclaimers: I do not own these characters or concepts. This is written strictly for entertainment,
and no profit has been made.

Summary: Krycek wants Skinner to 'babysit' Scott. Skinner helps Scott over his objections to bald men.

Warnings: Scott is a slut. If that bothers you, don't read it.

Hairless? I Could Care Less.
by Scribe

alter Skinner pushed his glasses a little farther up on his nose, leaned on his desk, and looked at the dark haired young man sitting across from him. "Let's clear up a few matters here, so I can be sure I understand this, Krycek."

"Sure."

"I'm your superior." Krycek raised an eyebrow. "All right, I'm your immediate supervisor."

"Yes."

"I'm your senior in age, experience, and job responsibilities."

"Yes."

"I have job stress that was a major contributing factor to my divorce."

"So I've heard."

"I have to ride herd on Fox Mulder, quite possible the most exasperating man on the face of the Earth."

"Without a doubt."

"All these things are true?"

"Yes, quite true. You'll get no arguement from me."

"And you're asking me to do WHAT?"

"Babysit."

Walter stared at him. "I've always believed that hanging around Mulder too long would drive someone crazy, but..."

"Look, I know that you have tonight off."

"I might have a date." Alex looked at him. "All right, I don't have a date, but I might have had
plans." Alex looked at him. "Explain this to me again."

"He's from Las Vegas. I met him a few months ago when I went out there with Fox. Fox had some sort of arrangement made, but it fell through. This was one case where plans getting screwed worked out good--at least for me."

"How old is this boy?"

"Nineteen."

"And you think he needs to be BABYSAT?"

"You know I have that last minute stakeout with Fox. Scott's supposed to be staying with me while he looks over Washington U., but I can't leave him alone at my apartment."

"Why not?"

"I'd rather not come home to find the remains of an orgy. Not that I MIND orgies, but the clean-up is a bitch, if you don't have hired help.

"Why don't you ask Scully? She isn't dating any more than I am."

"He kinda has a prejudice against Scully. His boyfriend got the hots for her last time she was out
there. And knowing his mind, and the types of materials and devices he has access to... It would
just be safer if he stayed with you, sir."

Walter considered.

"C'mon, sir. I can't take him with me. Not only is it against regulations to have citizens along on an
operation, but neither Fox or I would be able to concentrate on business, if I know Scott."

"He's that annoying?"

"No, I didn't say annoying--I said distracting. It's hard to watch a warehouse when someone's giving you head."

"He'd... uh..."

"He's the single most voraciously sexual person, male or female, I've ever run into." Alex grinned. "Bless 'im."

Walter tapped his fingers on the desk, studying Krycek's lasciviously nostalgic grin. The idea was
beginning to sound interesting, but still... "Perhaps you'd like to know what, if I may be pardoned the intentional pun, you are getting into." Krycek tossed a thin catalogue on Walter's desk.

Skinner picked it up. "Maurice's Manstuff. Thanks, Krycek, but I HAVE a copy at home."

"Do you remember seeing a young man wearing a tiger striped thong and a braided rawhide collar?"

Skinner suddenly sat up straighter. "You mean HE'S page 32, item 2b?"

"He's also page 16, item 3."

Walter got out his handkerchief and wiped a sudden sheen of sweat off his gloriously bald head. "I'm not saying 'yes', mind you..." Alex started grinning, and Walter scowled. "...but I'm willing to meet him, and see if I can stand it."

"That's more than fair." Alex stood up. "He's down in my office. Come on, and I'll introduce you."

As they made their way to the basement, Walter said, rather sarcastically, "So, you felt like you had to leave him with Fox to babysit while you came to talk to me?"

"Perish the thought. I had to peel Scott off Fox, then send my partner out to the car to wait. We NEVER would have gotten out of here, and if we DID, Fox wouldn't have been worth spit the rest of the night." Alex chuckled. "Scott's likely to be a little pissed about that. He doesn't take frustrated lust very well."

The doors slid open in the basement, and they made their way toward the office that Alex shared with Fox. Alex paused with his hand on the doorknob, ear cocked toward the door. When Walter looked at him questioningly he said, "Walking in on Scott Evil in an empty room can be a very interesting experience. I like to have some idea of what to expect."

"What do you hear?"

"Bleep... bloop... bleep... blipblip."

"Sounds like Fox trying to explain how aliens stole his last cell phone. Are you SURE he isn't in there?"

"I don't think he could have gotten untied in such a short time." Alex opened the door.

Scott Evil, his feet propped up on Krycek's desk, heard the door open, but didn't look up from the
Gameboy. He'd just tossed double sixes, and was heading toward the last stretch of the board. He was worried, because his computer oponent had a monopoly on the high rents up around Go. He heard Alex say, "Scott? I want you to meet Walter Skinner."

"Crap! I have to pay out about a thousand bucks! I'm gonna have to mortgage everything on my red monopoly." He stabbed at the buttons. "Hi."

Walter looked at Alex. "Is he familiar with the concept of eye contact?"

"I'm in no hurry to look at you. I came out here expecting a few days of uninterrupted nookie, and now I'm being fobbed off. I'm young, I have attitude, and I'm pissed. I feel obliged to be sullen and difficult for at least a few hours."

"Not while you're under MY authority, kid."

There was a steely tone in that voice, one that grabbed Scott around the base of his spine, then
reached forward and tickled his groin area. He looked up in surprise. Then he frowned, and looked at Krycek. "Bald? Alex, you've met my father, you've met and flushed Mini Me. I thought you'd know that I had an issue with baldness."

Walter stalked over to the desk and glared at Scott. "If you're going to insult me, look me in the face, boy."

Scott looked up... and up... and up... "Damn, there's a WHOLE lot of you, isn't there?"

"And all of it is ex-marine, so don't give me any shit."

Scott got up and ambled over to Krycek. "Alex, you're leaving me with a gigantic bald-headed ex-jarhead control freak?"

"You'll thank me. I have to go now. I'd tell you to be a good boy, but I don't want to curb your fun."

"Oh, all right, desert me. Save me some Mulder, though."

"Check."

Alex left, and Walter and Scott stared at each other: Scott with wary interest, Walter with well concealed glee. Finally Walter said, "Come on."

"Yes, master," Scott said sarcastically. He felt another grab of interest below his waistline when he saw the gleam in Skinner's eye. "Tell you what, you don't have to put up with me all evening. Just give me your address and I'll run over there around two or three and crash on your sofa."

Walter got into his personal space and stared down at him. "I'll tell YOU what. You come out to my car without my having to carry you, and I'll let you ride to my house in the front seat instead of in the trunk."

Scott put his hands on his hips. "I'd like to see you try!"

*****

"I've never in my life seen a trunk so fucking CLEAN."

Walter lifted him out. "I hope you didn't do anything stupid, like let the air out of my spare while you were in there."

Scott tried to take off. Walter caught him by the back of the collar. Scott demonstrated the practical uses of oversized clothing by slipping out of his shirt and making a run for it across the lawn. Walter caught him before he could get across the neighbor's iris bed, hoisted him under one arm, and carried him back to his house.

Mrs. Kravitz, peeking out the window, whined, "Abner! Mr. Skinner just hauled a half-naked, struggleing teenage boy into his house!"

Her husband turned a page on his paper. "Sure, Gladys. Just like our LAST neighbor used to twitch her nose and make weird stuff happen."

Inside, Walter dumped a squirming Scott Evil on the sofa. When Scott started to spring up, he pointed and said, "STAY!"

Scott, wide-eyed, subsided. "Dude, do you have an older sister who's a Nazi? I thought only my Mom could come up with that tone of voice. She can make pit bulls forget that they're house trained."

Walter went over and locked the door: thumb lock, deabbolt, chain, and floor security bar. When he turned back, Scott cleared his throat. "So I guess this means we're not going out for dinner?"

Skinner went over and sat in a chair near him. "Tell me about yourself, Evil."

Scott shrugged. "What's to tell? I'm a typical teenager. I was conceived in a petri dish. My Dad is
a megolamaniacal evil genius... *snort* *choke* Sorry, I can't use the term genius in relation to Dad with a straight face. Evil dork who had himself frozen for thirty years, and is constantly trying to take over the world with stupid ass plans that always go wrong, instead of just enjoying being mega rich. I've spent the last year being tormented by my Dad's evil miniature clone. Both of 'em are bald. Maybe that will give you a clue as to why I'm not real impressed by the smooth look. Nineteen. I like heavy metal music, I'd like to surf, but I live in the desert, I was careful not to get much above a C in school, so my friends wouldn't think I was uncool." He paused. "Oh, yeah. I'm a slut, and I'm bi." He gave Walter a defiant look. "You got a problem with that?"

Walter leaned forward. "No. I'm into bondage and discipline, I'm a Dom, I'M gay, and you're the cutest thing I've seen in a LONG time. Do YOU have a problem with THAT?"

Scott slithered off the end of the couch and started to back toward the kitchen. "Tell me, would trying to make a break for it get me in, er, trouble?"

"Do you prefer handcuffs, chains, or straps?"

"Thought so." Scott darted toward the kitchen.

Walter followed at a liesurely pace. Scott was tugging frantically at the back door. "Oh, I guess I
didn't mention that you need a key to open the back door." Scott slumped against the door and watched him through narrowed eyes. "Of course, the kitchen offeres all sorts of interesting possibilities." Skinner opened a drawer. "Let's see. Wooden spoon, spatula, pancake turner, turkey baster, egg beater..."

*SQUEAK!*

"No, no egg beater. Not for a novice." He shut the drawer and walked to the refridgerator. Opening it he said, "Okay. Honey, chocolate syrup, bananas..."

"You keep your bananas in the fridge?"

"Keeps 'em nice and firm. Canned whipped cream, maraschino cherries. What do you think?"

Scott's voice was weak. "All sounds kinda cold, man."

"I could warm up some caramel sauce."

Scott darted out and pounded up the stairs. Walter closed the refrigerator. "Yeah, it IS a little early to eat." He went upstairs. Scott was just coming out of the bathroom, wide-eyed. "Ah, I see you found the manacles in the shower." Scott darted into the front bedroom. Walter waited patiently. Scott came out, looking a little desperate. "Nice ornamental bars on the windows, don't you think?"

Finally Scott ran down the hall and into the back bedroom. Walter followed, rubbing his hands together, but resisting the urge to whistle. He was almost there when he heard the shout, "HOLY SHIT!"

Walter entered. "And now you've found the playroom." He locked the door.

Scott stared around. No windows. Ceiling mirrored. Floor black, thickly padded and carpeted. Walls black and (he looked closer) sound-proofed. "Uh oh."

Walter was stripping off his shirt. "You know, if we weren't in my neighborhood, I would have let you run a little more. I LOVE the chase."

Scott watched as the shirt hit the floor. Walter might not have much hair on his head, but he had a
respectable chest thatch. He ran his eyes over he broad shoulders, the big, hard looking arms, the well defined chest, and the washboard abs. Suddenly the polished pate didn't seem all that off-putting.

"Take your clothes off."

Scott cocked his head. "So, if I don't do exactly what you say, you get all dominant and force me to do it, and maybe end up ravishing me, huh?"

"No maybe about it."

Scott stuck out his tongue and said, "Warning: typical teenage self-important, arrogant statement coming up. You're not the boss of me!" Walter pulled off his belt. Scott started stripping.

Walter got down to his skivvies, then went over and opened a large chest, rummaging in it. Finally he came up with a handful of black straps and chrome rings and buckles. Scott had gotten down to his underwear. Yes, he was wearing underwear this time--black silk mini boxers. He'd intended to ask Alex to try removing them with his teeth.

Walter handed him the object. "Take those off and put this on."

Scott turned the straps this way and that, hooking his fingers in the rings, examining the buckles. "What the fuck is this, and how do I wear it? Even Maurice's outfits were easier to recognize." Walter sighed, took hold of the waistband, and ripped the boxers off with two quick pulls. Scott quickly shielded his crotch, squawking, "Dude! My MOM gave me those!"

"Sorry, but I told you, shorts off FIRST, then harness. I'll sew them up for you before you leave."

"You SEW?"

"They don't advertise ALL you can learn in the Marines. Get into that."

"Stand still."

*strap* *rustle* *clink* *buckle* *CINCH*

*YELP!"

*loosen.*

"Thanks." Scott's voice was just a tiny bit shriller.

Walter ran his hand over Scott's chest, hooking his fingers under the straps that ran above and below his nipples, and pulled him close. "Safe word."

"Huh?"

"I don't think that will work. Sounds too much like the noises you may make when I fuck you." Scott's knees gave out, but Walter kept his grip on the straps, so he didn't fall. "What's wrong?"

"You're a little overwhelming, dude."

"You said you were a slut."

"Well, yeah, I'm not denying THAT. But usually I'M the one who's crawling all over someone. I'm not used to some big, aggressive guy putting the moves on me."

"Well?"

"I like it."

"If your knees are still weak, you can go sit on that nice padded bench over there."

Scott went to the bench. "Um... any particular reason why there are stirrups on the end of this bench."

"Same reason there are clamps on the other side."

"Maybe I'll stand."

"Don't want to sit on the bench?" Scott shook his head. Walter sat on the bench and patted his knee.

"You gotta be kidding."

Walter grabbed the harness again, this time by the strap that ran around Scott's waist, and dragged him closer. "Look, kid. You have issues with your father, right?"

"Issues hardly begins to describe it. If you enter 'dysfunctional' in a search engine, our family
homepage is the first listing you get."

"So you don't like your father." Scott gasped as a very large, very warm hand closed around his cock. "How do you feel about daddies?"

"I'm getting the idea that fathers and daddies are VERY different things."

"Yep." Walter pulled. He did it gently, but there was no way Scott WASN'T going to follow that lead, and he ended up sitting on Walter's lap. "Since you don't have your own safe word, I'll give you one. Stress."

"Stress?"

"That's what we're BOTH going to feel if you want me to stop."

*stroke*

*purrrr* "Tell me a story, Daddy."

"Once there was a bad little boy." *strokestroke*

*whine*

"He ran into a big Papa Bear."

*squeeze* *pant*

"Who fucked him senseless."

"The end?"

"Where else?"

"No, I mean 'that's the end of the story'?"

"No, then he ate him. We will now have an instance of life imitating art."

*lift* *stretch* *spread* *clampclampclampclamp*

"HEY!" *tugtug* "Shit, no WONDER women hate going to the gynocologist. These stirrups are fucking uncomfortable."

Walter made another trip to the chest. He returned holding two small tubes, which he considered.
Muttering to himself, he said, "Let's see, which do I want? Cherry, or peach?"

"Hate ta tell you this, man, but skip the peach if you want there to be ANYTHING cherry about my ass."

"What the hell." Walter squeezed some of both on his fingers.

"Oh, man, BOTH?"

"Fruit cocktail." *probe*

"YIP!"

"Besides, a little extra lube isn't such a bad idea." He stripped off his underwear.

Scott craned his neck, then gasped. "Crap! Pull out the vanilla, chocolate, and mint flavored ones, too! You don't seriously think you're going to...?" Walter was kneeling at the end of the bench, between Scott's lifted and spread legs. "Cripes! THAT'S what you meant with the flavored..." *lick* "Son of a BITCH!" *lick* *probe* *slurp* *pantpant* "Whoooooo!"

Walter stood up and rolled on a condom. Scott, eyes glazing, looked. "Walter, oh, no. Not ribbed."

"Shut up unless you're going to moan and beg."

"Ha! I told ya, I BEEN to the rodeo before. It won't be all that easy to make me..." Walter thrust into Scott. Scott arched. *moooooan* "Ohpleaseohpleaseohplease!"

Walter stayed very still for a moment. "Are you absolutely POSITIVE you aren't a virgin?"

"Dude, it's pretty hard to mistake having a dick up your ass for anything else."

*squeeze* "Ooo. No, I don't think a virgin would know how to do that.

Walter started pumping. Hard. After a few minutes, Scott panted, "Now I see the practical nature of the cuffs and stirrups. You'd have fucked me right over the edge of this a long time ago without them. Turn my legs loose."

Walter never missed a stroke. "No."

"Fuck! Why not?"

"From what I've seen, they'd end up around my neck, and you look like you have strong thighs."

"Uh... maybe. But I want to MOVE."

"You'll get your chance. Now..." He changed the angle of penetration so that he bumped Scott's
prostate at every pass. Scott started speaking in tongues. He came in another couple of strokes, and the clenching of his ass pulled Walter over the edge, too.

Walter collapsed on top of the panting Evil. Scott grunted. "Look, unless you want to be up on
manslaughter charges for accidentally smothering me, get up."

Walter pulled out, eliciting another yip, and went to the chest. He pulled a large rubberized sheet out and spread it neatly on the floor, then went to the door.

Scott called, "Yo, Skinner."

Walter paused. "Call me 'Daddy', and I might listen."

"Sheesh. Daddy, where the heck are you about to go while Sonnyboy is still racked up?"

"I need to get a few things for our next scene."

"Next?"

"You didn't think you were getting off with just one, did you? I thought I told you: it's been a LONG time. I don't get my hands on sweet stuff like you often, so I figure I'd better make the most of it."

"You don't have what you need in that chest?"

"I have to go the the kitchen for the supplies."

"Uh..." Walter opened the door. "Uh..." He stepped out into the hallway. "LEAVE THE FUCKING EGGBEATER!"

*****

*squelch*

"That is some seriously sticky shit, Daddy."

"Yeah, but it has a high sugar content, and you're going to need the energy."

"I just don't know what I'm gonna tell Mom when she asks why I got cavities. 'Well, it might have
something to do with all the canned cream, honey, and chocolate syrup I lapped off that dungeonmaster's dick.'"

"The can says they've added calcium."

"I'm a guy, I don't need to fight osteoporosis."

"Get to work."

*lap* *slurp* *smack* *gobble*

"Ahhhh...."

*nibble* *suck* *lick*

*peel*

"PUT THAT GODDAM BANANA AWAY, DADDY!" *Yowl* "That WASN'T what I meant!"

*****

Six am.

The car pulled up at Skinner's house, and the petite redhead got out and went to the front door. She knocked, and waited. After a while, she knocked again. Just when she was wondering if she should call Skinner on her cell phone to wake him up, the door opened.

Skinner was there, barefooted, and wearing a robe and a very self-satisfied look. "Hi, Dana. What are you doing here?"

"Mulder and Krycek took down that Magik card counterfieter at the warehouse, and they're busy with paperwork. Alex asked me to pick up someone named Scott and take him back to his apartment."

"Sure." He yelled back into the house. "BRAT!"

"Coming, Dad." A dark haired young man ambled down the stairs. "You called, you big, bald, buff,
beautiful brute, you?"

Walter ruffled his spiky hair. "Your ride is here."

"Okay."

Skinner pinched his cheek. "You have the email address?"

"Yes, sir."

"At least every other day, with details, or I fly down to Las Vegas and whip your butt."

"Promise?"

He swatted Scott's butt and nudged him out, waving before he shut the door.

Scully examined Scott as they walked back to the car. He was limping a little, but he had a pleased, dreamy look on his face. In the care, he winced, and sat gingerly, as if trying not to put his full weight on his butt.

They drove in silence for a few moments. Dana kept casting glances at the young man. He'd been obnoxious, arrogant, and smart ass when she'd met him, but not quiet. "You okay?"

He grinned. "Fine."

"Do you want to get breakfast?"

*burp* "No thanks--couldn't eat another bite."

"Don't tell me Skinner cooked for you?"

"N-o-t exactly. Can I use your cell phone?"

She frowned. "Are you going to call a 976 number?"

"Too tired for that. Don't worry, it's an 800 number, toll free."

"Oh, all right."

"Cool."

Scott got the cell phone and punched in a number. "Hello, Thanksalotte? Yeah, I wanna order two gifts, to be delivered. Right. Both of these will go to the J. Edgar Hoover building in D.C. Right. Credit card? Wait." He pulled out a credit card and read off the number. "Yes, I'm Dr. Evil. That's right, first name Dr. My confirmation password? Bigglesworth. Good. Okay, the first one is your biggest, baddest fruit basket. Send it to office --, that's in the basement. To Alex Krycek... That's K-r-y-c-e-k, just like it sounds. A hundred dollars? No, that's not too steep.
Have the card say, 'Alex, thanks. Scott.' Okay, the second one is going to office ---. No, no fruit
basket. One... no, two dozen red roses. Card says the same thing, except make it to 'Daddy'. Right. Thanks."

Scott stretched, winced, and grinned. Dana looked at him suspiciously. "What are you thinking of?"

He shrugged. "I'm thinking that maybe I ought to write a fan letter to Billy Zane."

END