Outfoxed, by Ursula

Outfoxed

by Ursula

Rated: M

Pairing: Vic/Mac

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

"Okay, get ready," Mac said, his voice a husky whisper, both to keep the director from hearing and because he had screamed himself sore hoarse last night.

Sprawled over the latest destroyed beyond salvage bed, Victor was picking indolently at wax patches. Damn writers, not only did he run up the national debt in Neosporin, but the stuff ruined all his sheets and looked gross when it cooled. Who the hell thought it was sexy to drop hot wax all over him? Humph, it was those childhood associations... "Don't play with candles" "Don't talk about sex." The poor fragile psyches couldn't be blamed for mixing the two, Victor supposed.

Handing Victor a small ball of fabric the size of an acorn, Mac said, "Here's your costume. Put it on."

Holding up a filmy ultra-spandex G-string, Victor snorted and said, "Yeah, right, why don't I just use body paint?"

"Cause she likes spandex." Mac said, reasonably.

Grumbling, Victor got out of the bed, quickly shoving Alex Krycek back behind the mound of fallen drapes. Mac wasn't very understanding at times and, sweet, sweet Alex was another story, indeed.

"I got to take a quick shower." Victor announced, "Want to wash my back?"

Oh, bad, he had forgotten to specify Mac Ramsey, a line of characters immediately appeared, Alex first, followed by Mulder, Cory Raines (His motto being, A Dirty Mind In a Clean Body), Blair Sandberg, Jim Ellison, Fan4Richie...

Okay, there were limits, Victor picked up the twisted gnome and drop kicked him to Vancouver. A squeal followed the magical little creep the whole way...

"Oooooo, he touched me!"

Six hours later, Victor was ready, finally out of the shower, his back and other parts almost tender from attention. He wiggled into the tiny costume; it stretched, but he had to adjust and pat, writhe, and groan to get it on. Mac busily got this all on camera.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

The new bed was pristine, spanking new handcuffs, lined with faux fur, dangled from the heavy wood headboard, contrasting nicely with the pattern of shadowy foxes, phallic symbols, balls, and apple cheeks. He wore the black Spandex trifle, reaching to adjust it every few minutes as it threatened to turn into a mere cock ring of a garment any moment.

Mmm, he stretched, lithe muscles displaying all over his Greek God torso or was his sleek Canadian chassis? In any event, Mac had rubbed him with precious oil, not forgetting to make a wish when a confused genie appeared. Turning slightly on his side, Victor arched his lush, succulent, opulent, supple, pliant, lovely, ravishing....

Scottish accent comes from nowhere, "Captain, the thesaurus can't take much more of this. The search engine is about to explode!"

Overly dramatic voice enunciates a half letter at a time, " Scotty, I need a little more, Damn the crystals."

(Joined by a Frenchman with an English accent, "Damn it, not good enough."

Um, where was I?

Oh, Victor turned all that lickable flesh to his best angle ... which was any of them, really. A feather drifted out of no where... Actually, Demi X had it left over from "Under the Greenwood Tree...anyone want to buy a bunch of green tunics cheap?"

Oh, a peacock tail feather! Perfect! Victor trailed it over his nipples teasing them into pouting perfection. He shuddered, rippling washboard muscles undulating like a Siamese Temple cat's.

That was it...a high pitched scream sounded. Mac rushed out of hiding, dancing an excited coda. "We got her! We got here! No more surveillance, no more stupid assignments! No more Director's dirty looks!"

Sprawling belly down on the floor, Mac looked in the pit he had created with a left over hole from Yellow Submarine. "Oh, shit." He said, "I'm very sorry. I'm very, very sorry! And it was your birthday too. Oh, shit, it was Victor's idea!"

"Hey!" Victor exclaimed. He strolled over, knowing they had screwed up again. Yep, Shadow Fox looking quite miffed.

Victor lowered his magical chain which was attached to someplace which would make this act the supreme sacrifice and said, "Milady, climb up."

Trying his best to snow the offended list mistress, who really looked more frightening than the director, Mac waggled his eyebrows and said, "Wanna play with us?"

Before their victim could answer, the Director rode in on her Electro-broom, and screeched, "I'll have you and your little Mac too."

Avoiding the hole, which was closing now, because after all Victor and Mac HAD been acting like heels, the director lunged for all three people. She had her ins for Shadow Fox too and it mattered not one whit, that it was her birthday. Just as her foul, harpy like claws could sink into her tender prey, a screaming missile propelled back into the room. Fan4Richie's gnome-like body catapulted by the awesome boot of the good Doctor...the very good Doctor...the wise and wonderful...

Is that enough to make up for the on-list screw up?

...demonstrated the wonder of velocity and gravity just as they showed you in driving school.

His body now weighed the approximate mass of "Black Hole Sun" and drove the director into the flooring, down, down, down until she hit OZ, where the inmates, scared out of their HBO, immediately drew up petitions about cruel and unusual punishment.

"Ding dong, the witch is dead" sang Fan4Richie, dinging out the melody on his musical dong.

Ursula's Hey, spell check tried to make that Arousal! Pretty cool. hairy hand reached in, grabbed him, and said, "Get home and stay home. Sorry, folks, carry on. I was busy in the Mac 27 factory and he does wander. Just remember, it's always his fault!"

Green jade eyes gazed solemnly at Shadow Fox. Victor's hand reached out to her and he said, "Really, most of the reason we had to get rid of the director was to have a private moment with you. Please forgive us."

Mac couldn't better that so he just made puppy dog eyes at Shadowfox.

Finally, a nod signaled they were forgiven. Victor's lips so rosy and curved like bows that could launch all of Cupid's Eros and arrows glistened as his talented tongue slipped a swift cat licking cream lick over their surface.

"Just a moment!" Mac said, drawing a green velvet curtain completely around the bed. "There, now, you Nick Zone peeps, you are all as bad as the director. Give a guy, uh, some guys a bit of privacy."

And with that, the curtain closed, revealing gold lettering in the classic ass cheek enclosure, which said, "The end."

End

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Feedback to Ursula