DISTRIBUTION: OK for Archive/X, Socks Shoppe; elsewhere by permission. Email forwarding is OK. RATING: R for M/M sexual situations. SPOILERS: None. SUMMARY: Pendrell and Courtenay have some visitors to the lab. NOTA BENE: This follows "I Go Blind." If you've not read it, you might not get everything. This is not quite the same style, though. DISCLAIMER: Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox own the X-Files, not me. I invented Jerry Courtenay, but I don't think I'd like to own him--too expensive to keep, I'm sure. October 1998 SCIENTIFIC METHOD By Halrloprillalar "So the Spookmeisters are coming at eleven?" "I wish you wouldn't call them that, Court." Pendrell ran his fingers through his short reddish hair and turned from his work to look at the other man. He spent a lot of time doing that these days. Jerry Courtenay consumed him. When they were apart, Pendrell pored over the images flashburned on his mind. Jerry in the lab, white coat hanging like an Italian suit, wire-rims circling chocolate eyes. Jerry in the gym, sheen of sweat on his booth-tanned skin, pumping iron to keep his shoulders nice. Jerry in the shower, blond hair curling at his scalp and down his stomach, body sculpted by Praxiteles. Jerry on his knees, all cheekbones and hot hot mouth on Pendrell's... Golf, thought Pendrell. Oatmeal porridge, ice water, shopping. "OK, OK. And don't mess up your hair--you want to look pretty for our visitors, don't you?" Courtenay smoothed Pendrell's hair and ran one finger down his forehead, along the bridge of his nose, and onto his lips, where it lingered a moment. Auto shop class, Janet Reno, The Sound of Music. Courtenay's eyes snapped wickedly. "I know I do. I've been longing to meet them." The tip of his tongue flashed through his lips. "How are you going to introduce me?" Pendrell buttoned his lab coat up all the way. It was loose enough. He hoped. He glared halfheartedly at Courtenay. "As Agent Courtenay, lab tech." "Don't you think *accomplished* lab tech would be more appropriate?" "Why do you do this to me?" Pendrell bent over his reports, trying to sort them into a logical order. "Because, Danny Boy, I like to see you blush and get all hot and bothered. It's foreplay." Pendrell considered arguing that but it was so obviously, so pitifully true that he didn't bother. Bickering about foreplay and Courtenay's undeniable sexual prowess was the last thing he wanted to be doing when Mulder and Scully walked in the door. Which they did. Pendrell slid off his lab stool, winging a prayer for mercy to the god of awkward situations, and performed the introductions. "Agent Scully, Agent Mulder from the X-Files department; Agent Courtenay, a--" he could not help himself "--*valuable* addition to the lab." Courtenay took Scully's hand first, flashing her a dazzling smile. Strangely for her, she reciprocated, holding his hand a second longer than strictly necessary. He then favoured Mulder with a Look--damn him!--and a shoulder squeeze with the left hand as he shook with the right. Mr Pouty Lips, of course, was right in there with a shoulder squeeze of his own. The cold sickness that had washed over Pendrell in eighth grade when he realised that Andy Franklin had won the science fair instead of him came flooding back. He grabbed for his stack of papers and knocked them all over the floor. What a doof! Scrambling for them, he found Scully helping to pick them up. Courtenay's voice came down to him, from Olympus to the crawling worm. "Agent Pendrell, why don't you show Agent Scully the chemical analyses and I'll go over the crystal structures with Agent Mulder?" Diving for the last sheet, Pendrell collided with Scully, their heads banging. "I'm, oh God, I'm sorry. Are you OK?" he squeaked. Squeaked--great. "I'm fine. What about you? You might have a bruise there." Scully leaned in close. Her soft fingers probed his brow with a lingering touch, blue eyes bright and intense on his own. This was starting to feel more like that time at the ninth grade Halloween party when Lori Kardash asked him to dance and he didn't know what to do, so he ran out of the gym and went and played chess with Andy Franklin, losing so many games that his record was screwed for the entire term. Scully picked up the paper and they both stood. She still stared at him, looking him up and down speculatively. Two months ago this would have sent him to paradise, but that was before Court. Court. Pendrell looked over at Courtenay and clenched his teeth. Blond head and brown bent close together over slides, Mulder's hand resting comfortably on Courtenay's back. Mulder said something in a low voice and they turned to each other--too close!--and laughed. "Agent Pendrell?" A hand on his own back made him jump--Scully, the reports, his job. Repeat to yourself, Lab Boy: I am an adult. I can handle this. Scully smiled at him and he blushed. Somehow, he managed to stumble through the explanation and even intelligently answer a few questions. Scully continued to eye him, brushing his fingers as she took the stack of papers from him. Would the Spookmeisters *never* leave? "Mulder, are you ready? We have to be at the morgue by one." Scully turned her attention to Courtenay, giving him the once over. "Don't want to keep you away from your dead man, Scully." Mulder gave Courtenay one last pat on the shoulder, then went over to his partner. "You know, if I took a cold bath and then lay really still..." Scully's eyebrows went up. "You'll change your mind after the Y incision." "Thanks, guys." Mulder included Pendrell in his charming grin, then he was out the door. Scully followed, but turned at the last minute. She smiled. "Keep up the good work, Agents." The door shut behind her. "They weren't spooky at all," Courtenay said. "Nice, both of them." "I noticed you thought so, especially Mulder." Pendrell cringed at the petulance in his voice. "What did I do?" Courtenay walked over to crowd Pendrell's personal space. "You were all over each other!" "Maybe he was all over me, but what could I do? Knock his arm away and say 'Mr Mulder, I am shocked at your behaviour'?" "Well, I'll have you know that he comes on like that to everyone." Very catty, Daniel. "You too?" Courtenay sounded interested. "Have you had him?" "No, but only because I dodged him in the men's room." "Maybe we should invite him over sometime." Courtenay thumbed Pendrell's cheek. Pendrell stepped back. "Court!" The blonde man closed in again. "And what about you and the fair Agent Scully? You weren't exactly coldly scientific with her." "How would you know? Anyhow, that was her, not me." Pendrell backed up again and found himself smack against the counter. "I don't know what that was all about." "Admit it, you'd jump her in a minute." Courtenay loomed, a spark of evil in his tones. "I know I would." "You're a real bastard, Jerry, did you know that?" Pendrell knew he was losing it and he didn't care. "A real fucking tease. You ooze over everything that comes your way and you expect me not to care. Jerry Courtenay, FBI Slut. Just fuck off and leave me alone." Oh God, what if he does? Suddenly Courtenay's breath burned on his cheek, words rasping on his ear. "Say that again." "What?" "Call me that again. Slut. I like it." His tongue teased Pendrell's earlobe. Pendrell slumped against the counter. Mindfuck. He winds me up, I snap, he gets hot, I get hot. Pendrell's anger transmuted into arousal, blood rushing into the partial erection Courtenay had teased from him earlier. He hated it, he loved it. Resistance is futile, Lab Boy. "You're a slut, Jerry, you're fucking easy. A goddamned slut who sucks cock." Fingers in his hair, mouth against his face, hand on his hip. Who's easy now? "Early lunch, Danny Boy. Your place is closer." Courtenay shifted, pressing his hand against Pendrell's straining cock, rubbing him through the layers of cloth. "Macavity's going to hide under the couch," Pendrell choked out. "Shut him in the bedroom. We'll take the couch this time." "Jerry..." In that clever palm, Pendrell could read his fate as a very movable object caught up in an irresistible force. "What is it?" He looked up at Courtenay but the words he wanted dried at the back of his throat. "Can we at least stop for a sandwich on the way back? I'm losing weight." "Anything for you." Pendrell hoped that it was true. F I N I S Any dirty words you'd like Pendrell to say next time? Let me know. prillalar@geocities.com ______________________________________________________________________ Subscribe, unsubscribe, opt for a daily digest, or start a new e-group at http://www.eGroups.com -- Free Web-based e-mail groups.