Disclaimer: The characters and situations of the television program
"The X Files" are the creations and property of Chris Carter, Fox
Broadcasting, and Ten-Thirteen Productions, and have been used without
permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

Archive:  MKRA/MSSS: Yes    Gossamer: No    Usenet: No
          Can be distributed to mailing lists, which require age statements.

Cert: NC-17, contains description of sex including homosexual sex.
      (Some non-consensual scenes)

Notes: If you're looking for plot and character exposition, then you 
might as well leave now <g> this one is a Very Extreme Possibility.
Thanks to Spooky in the basement at Harvard for the loan of her
mixing bowls, and for translating to American where necessary.

Feedback: If you would care to offer some feedback then send a note to
           100257.1177@compuserve.com
 
                             Hors D'oeuvres
                             by Pollyanna

                  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Hors d'oeuvres - literally 'outside the work'

                  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Assistant Director Skinner sighed, took his glasses off, rubbed his
eyes with the palms of his hands, and wondered if it was too soon to 
consider early retirement. It had been another long day, and now he 
was faced with yet another problem from Mulder and Scully. When he put
his glasses back on and looked across the desk, he saw that they were 
both looking concerned, which made the situation even worse. How could
he bawl out two of his best agents, especially when they were about 
the only friendly faces he saw nowadays. But an expense claim for over
two thousand dollars for a simple stakeout in Washington - it was just
unbelievable, perhaps he should assign it to them as an X-file. 
*Alright, let's try to make some sense out of this.* Perhaps the more 
reasonable member of the duo could shed some light.

"Agent Scully ..."

"Sir, I have a suggestion. Let's leave this discussion until
tomorrow morning."

He raised a suspicious eyebrow at her.

"The expense form will still be there, you'll be feeling a lot 
fresher, and I have an invitation to issue."

"An invitation?" now the suspicion was in his voice.

"Every couple of months, I give the take-outs in Mulder's neighbourhood
a rest and invite him round for a meal. It's completely casual, only 
one rule - no talking shop. I can easily make it stretch for one more."

Skinner was about to refuse point-blank, socialising with agents was 
completely against the rules, but then Mulder chipped in, with one of
those comments which gave the impression that he was actually 
visiting from five minutes into the future.

"It won't be the Assistant Director and Special Agents, just a few 
friends hanging out together - you can go back to bawling us out 
tomorrow with no qualms." 

He gave one of those zany grins, which Skinner almost found himself
returning, and then he heard himself saying.

"All right, what time shall I turn up ?"

"Seven thirty, but don't worry if you're late - Mulder always is."
The Assistant Director felt more relaxed already as the two agents 
left, although he might have been a little worried if he had seen the 
high five they gave each other outside his door.

                  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Skinner was outside Scully's door at seven twenty-five, clutching a 
bottle of wine for protection and feeling amazingly awkward. He 
pressed the buzzer, and after a minute during which he contemplated
bolting, Scully opened the door. She was dressed in jeans and a green 
sleeveless top, and he congratulated himself on choosing the chinos 
and polo shirt from his wardrobe.

"Hello Sir, before you enter I need your solemn vow - no mention of 
work."

"I think I can manage that Agent Scully, one night out of 365 without 
thinking about it will be a boon."

"Then step right in, and thanks for the wine. Fleurie - one of my
favourites, should go well with the main course. Come into the kitchen
and open it for me, it can stand for a while."

"Thank you Agent Scully... umm, what should I call you, Agent Scully 
sounds a bit too much like work."

"I'm afraid you'll have to stick with Scully, Mulder absolutely
refuses to get on first name terms with anyone." 

Skinner looked around with interest as he entered the kitchen. It was
bright and modern, but also managed to look homey, aided by the 
wonderful smells coming from the pot simmering on the stove. He was 
rather puzzled by a set of bowls in a corner which seemed to be 
covered with green fun fur *Probably a present from Mulder.* Scully
handed him a brandy glass two-thirds full of wine, which he tried to 
refuse.

"Don't worry if you're driving, you can get a cab back, and you are 
here to relax - that's an order."

"Yes ma'am," he said meekly, and after a tentative sip, thought
*Oh well, why not?* and took a gulp, swilling it savouringly round his
mouth before swallowing. Scully handed him the corkscrew and he got to
work on the bottle he had brought. The buzzer sounded again, and Scully
went back into the other room, he heard the sound of her and Mulder 
whispering together, before they both came into the kitchen.
Mulder was still in his suit *Must have been working late, again.* But
he was ripping off the godawful tie, loosening the top button, and the
jacket got thrown back into the living room onto the sofa.

"Hello Sir."

"Good evening, Mulder." *Were they going to call him Sir all evening?*
that was going to put a damper on things. Perhaps he could get them to
use Skinner when they were all sitting down at the table. Mulder 
poured himself a brandy glass of wine while Scully did culinary things
to the pot.

"Be about forty minutes," she said consideringly.

"Time for some hors d'oeuvres then," said Mulder brightly, from his
position leaning against the door-frame.

"You could almost imagine that this man ate proper meals regularly 
from the way he talks," Scully said in a long-suffering voice. "I
wonder Sir, could you reach up to that cupboard over the door, and 
fetch down the big platter you find there. I'd ask Mulder but he's
always dropping things."

Skinner reached up and opened the doors to the high cupboard, 
wondering as he did so how Scully managed when she was on her own.
As the doors opened, something metallic came tumbling down, Mulder's 
hands reached up to his as they both tried to catch them, but as
Skinner heard something click, and actually identified the metal as 
two pairs of handcuffs, he realised that Mulder had not being trying 
to catch them.

"What in the..."

"Surprise!" chorused Scully and Mulder.

                  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

"Surprise? What do you mean - SURPRISE!" Skinner was no longer feeling
relaxed.

"Happy Birthday, Sir," said Mulder cheerfully.

"My birthday is not until next week," Skinner enunciated in icy tones,
while tugging fruitlessly at the handcuffs. Mulder had clipped one end
of each pair around each of Skinners wrists and the other ends were 
firmly attached to something in the cupboard.

"Well, of course we know that, Sir. After all, we are your best agents,
but we figured you might be on your guard next week, so we decided to 
spring the surprise early." Mulder had come round to join Scully in
the kitchen, and they both beamed at him.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny, now let me go."

"Not quite yet, Sir, I think when you've warmed up a little you'll
enter into the spirit of the occasion, but to start with, a little 
restraint is needed."

"Warmed up? To what?"

Scully, the reasonable one, looked at him seriously.

"Well, Sir, it seemed to us, that work and life in general was just
piling up on you, and that you needed the chance to let your hair 
down," Mulder snickered and Scully shot him a reproving look. "Sorry
Sir, bad choice of words, what I'm trying to say is we decided that 
you needed a completely irresponsible evening - wine, women and song."

"Although we were actually thinking more along the lines of wine, 
pasta and sex," Mulder chimed in helpfully.

For a moment Skinner doubted his hearing, and then he looked at Mulder
and Scully searchingly, they were looking cheerful, anticipatorily 
cheerful.

"No. No Way. Let me go immediately - that is an order."

"Sorry, Sir, no work here," Mulder said gravely.

"Then why are you still calling me Sir?" Skinner's voice rose up a 
notch, as Mulder moved towards him while he was speaking.

"Well, it's difficult to break the habit. Perhaps when we're better
acquainted."

Skinner tried to twist round to keep an eye on Mulder who was moving 
behind him, but then Scully approached him from the front, and he 
could not keep an eye on both of them at once. Scully partially solved
the problem by reaching up and removing his glasses, then Mulder
totally solved it by yanking the polo shirt out of his chinos and
pulling it up to cover his head. As he was blinded by that he suddenly
found a pair of small determined hands at his waist, undoing the
buckle of his belt, then the button, then the zip, and then his
trousers were round his ankles. For a moment he thought that they had 
been just playing a joke after all, but the same determined hands came
back for his boxers, and they joined his trousers. He was grateful for
the polo shirt which was currently sparing his blushes, but then 
Mulder pulled it with a pop over his head, and up to his hands, 
tucking it between his wrists and the handcuffs to prevent chafing.

Skinner wanted the ground to open up, or to die, or both, any order.

Mulder's voice sounded behind him.

"Tsk, tsk, Scully. We're being rude to our guest here, let's make him
feel more at ease."

Scully reached down to her waist and pulled the green top off in one 
move, then calmly undid her bra, and placed it and the top on a stool.
She shimmied out of the jeans and pants together, and kicked away her
moccasins as the jeans came off. Skinner was distracted from his own 
embarrassment by his admiration of her body, full breasts, but in 
proportion to the rest of her body, tiny waist, that he was sure he 
could put both hands around, at least if they were not over his head, 
and a tantalizing haze of reddy-brown hair.

His attention was diverted by Mulder's ass as it walked past him, the 
muscles seeming to have a life of their own. Mulder was all lean limbs
and pale skin, he dropped his clothes with Scully's and then turned,
and Skinner was able to see the fine hairs on his chest and the
darker, thicker hairs around his ... *Oh, shit.* ... Mulder's cock,
although not yet erect, was showing a determined interest in the
proceedings.

"Umm, could we talk about this?"

Mulder and Scully demonstrated their uncanny knack of knowing just 
what the other was thinking.

"No," they chorused, and then they advanced.

                  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

Mulder stood in front of him, while Scully did a reconnaissance round
the back.

"Which would you prefer Scully, front or back?"

Scully stroked a warm friendly hand across Skinner's buttock, making 
him gulp and jump.

"Well, although it's very nice, I think you're better equipped for a 
rearguard action. I'm sure I'll find something to occupy me 
elsewhere."

Skinner heard her soft footsteps padding into the living room, and 
then she returned and dropped a cushion on the ground in front of him,
Mulder politely stepping to one side. Scully knelt on the cushion and 
ran her hands up the outside of his legs, swerving to touch the inside
of his thighs and then resting them on his hips. She looked up at him 
and he realised he had never seen that particular mischievous look 
before, then she leant forward and licked, slowly, consideringly and 
with some appreciation. He bucked backwards from the amazing 
sensation, but then Mulder stepped back behind him, and came close, 
chest to back, holding his hips in a firm grip, his hands just above
Scully's.

With Skinner restrained, if not immobilised, Scully was able to
concentrate on the job in hand, or rather, mouth, and she had a 
very talented mouth. His cock soon decided that it wanted to come out 
to play, and he was erect and straining within a minute. Scully took 
this as a mark of approval and redoubled her efforts, licking, 
sucking, now fast, now slow, the merest hint of teeth, and then a 
scrape that caused a chest-deep groan. Her hands moved from his hips 
to his balls, she took them delicately in her fingers and rubbed them.
His brain was just about active enough to admire the way she moved
them at different speeds, one hand was slow but speeding up, the other
fast but slowing down, and there was one stomach-coiling moment where
they matched speeds, before going off, each on their own merry way.

Then Mulder said something and Scully stopped, Skinner made a small 
querying sound of disappointment and Mulder reached forward and 
nibbled his ear. And then Skinner became conscious of the fact that
Mulder had been slowing rubbing lubricant up and down his cleft, and 
was continuing to do so in a slow, languid stroke.

"I was wondering Sir, have you ever... ?" and a finger suddenly 
slipped inside him a short distance and then withdrew. Skinner yelped,
not quietly, and shot upwards.

"Wow Sir, you must have been able to beat all comers in the standing 
high jump." Mulder's voice turned sympathetic, and he patted Skinner's
shoulder with his spare hand "Oh boy, but if this is new to you, are
you going to come hard tonight."

Mulder wrapped an arm firmly around Skinner's waist and pulled him 
tight against his hip, turning slightly sideways to give his other 
hand more room to manoeuvre. He went back to the stroke, and then sunk
the finger in again, this time going all the way. Skinner gasped and 
tried to writhe away from the burning sensation, but the finger stayed
firmly planted. After a few seconds, the sensation turned less 
painful, and Mulder began to move the finger slowly in and out. Then 
he withdrew it and crossing two fingers slid those inside, Skinner 
squirmed, it wasn't so bad this time, but still enough to make him
grit his teeth. Mulder stayed still a lot longer this time, until 
Skinner was breathing evenly, and then began to twist the fingers 
around, and in and out, opening them in a scissoring motion, then just
as Skinner thought his senses were on full throttle, Mulder touched
something.

"Shiiiit!"

"That's your prostate Sir." Scully offered calmly.

"It's wonderful having a doctor around for those tricky anatomical 
points. You have to watch it though, she becomes incomprehensible 
after the second sentence."

"I don't think he's paying attention Mulder."

"Oh I think he is Scully, how about three Sir? I'll take that groan as
a Yes shall I ?"

Mulder put in some overtime with the three fingers, working them hard 
to and fro, rotating them, and making sure Skinner knew exactly where
his prostate was situated. When he finally withdrew them, Skinner's
hips leaned backwards searching for them and Mulder grinned. Then he 
placed his cock at the hole which the fingers had just abandoned and 
pressed forward.

"And now for the piece de resistance. When I say push, then push. 
Push!" 

Mulder worked his way past the ring of muscle and then stopped,
Skinner was panting but after Mulder's conscientious preparation was 
not in too much distress, and after a few seconds, almost
unconsciously, wriggled his hips. Mulder knew a cue when it was
offered and gently began to move forward, stopping frequently, Scully 
who had been an approving spectator, rubbed her hands soothingly over 
the sweaty thighs, making little 'there,there' noises. Skinner was
still panting, but little short breaths surrounding a thread of sound,
making him sound as if he was auditioning, rather shyly, for a part in
a kung fu movie.

When Mulder was fully in, Scully took up her neglected task, and 
not one to resist a challenge, attempted to make Skinner completely
forget Mulder's part in the action, she almost succeeded until Mulder
began to move. For a short while Skinner was tossed to and fro in a 
chaos of sensation, however Mulder and Scully soon settled into a
relentless counterpointed rhythm.

Skinner's last conscious thought before he came... hard... was that 
he had never really appreciated up to then just how well his agents
worked together.

                  = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

The dinner had been excellent, pasta with some richly-flavoured sauce,
which the Fleurie complemented perfectly. The conversation had been a 
little stilted at first, perhaps because Skinner's brain was still
hiding in the kitchen (probably under the fluffy bowls). But more wine
and Mulder's and Scully's apparent nonchalance over the early part of 
the evening had relaxed the atmosphere to the point where they were 
even calling him Skinner.

Scully stood up and gathered the plates together. Skinner smiled as he
handed her his plate, and then his stomach did a triple somersault as 
he recognised the mischievous smile she offered in reply.

"Anything for dessert?" Mulder asked expectantly.

"But of course, and with cream."

"Lots of cream?"

"Lots and lots of cream!"


THE END   (except for the after dinner mints !)