Title: Baby Steps Toward Getting His Way.
Series: Mental Torture (Or the I'm Better at Mind Fucks Than You Are) Series, part 5
Author/pseudonym: Voracity
Email address: to list or bookwrecker@yahoo.com
Rating: PGish there's suggestion of getting some, but no actual sex.
Pairings: Scott and his wives, Doctor Evil/Mini Me
Fandom: Austin Powers.
Archive: okay.
Other website: Voracity.tripod.com on the Misc. Page.
Disclaimers: Do you think I own them? If I did, do you think I'd be living without much furniture and listening to my kittens whine because she's tired and doesn't want to nap? Of course I don't own them, and I doubt the SNL people would be that upset with this, but they get all the credit for the characters.
Summary: LOL, Scott can be just as evil, he's just doing it in a ... different way.

Baby Steps Toward Getting His Way.
By Voracity

Scott Evil, son of the deranged Doctor Evil, smirked as his Number Two brought him the invention he had been looking forward to getting. He smiled up at his Head Wife, who was lounging on the bed. "You'll like this one," he said, getting up and crawling up to her, holding out the small device like an offering. "It'll get him even faster."

She patted him on the head. "Scott, you know I approve of your desire to get even with your father, but are you sure you want to go down this path?"

"Yeah," he said with a grin. "I'm really sure. He's a dick. A big, massive dick. And he'll be paying for what he said about me. When I'm done with him, he'll have to be drugged all the time, or he'll be dead," he said with a shrug. "Either way works for me. You?"

"It's all good for me," she said, patting him on the side of the face. "I approve. Implement this part," she told Number Two, handing him back the device. She pulled Scott down, kissing him fiercely. "It's time to do your duty to me, Scott."

"I worship and obey," Scott said, starting to lick his way down his Head Wife's body.

Their Number Two blushed and ran out of the bedroom, going to send the small device inside the present Scott had picked out for his father.


Doctor Evil opened the present carefully and showed it off to his Mini Me, the only person he allowed near him in the hospital room. "An electric toothbrush?" Mini Him shrugged. "I don't know either." He licked over his teeth. "I could use it at least." He got up and went into the private bathroom, turning on the light. He grimaced when he saw how pale and gaunt he was looking, but shoved his physical condition out of his mind so he could take care of the practical. They'd let him out sometime, and then he would get back at his son.

He pulled down his toothpaste and squirted a small line onto the round head, then turned it on, nodding at the fast humming it was doing. He stuck it into his mouth, then pulled it out and frowned. "A voice?" he asked, staring at it. He shook his head. "Can't be. It must be the drugs they've got me on." He started to brush his teeth in earnest, ignoring what he must have been hallucinating.

The little voice that was telling him how very unevil he was. The little voice that was telling him he was a waste of space. The little voice telling him that nothing he planned would ever go right because he didn't have a clue about the modern world.

When Doctor Evil was done, he rinsed out his mouth and his new present, then put it away and went back to his Mini Me. Maybe his Mini Me would be nice and touch him again. He had missed being touched recently. But he would get out sometime and then the women of the world would have to watch out. He slid under the blankets and pulled his Mini Him up to hug him. He was just the right size for a teddy bear too. As he fell asleep, the voice that he had *not* heard started up again, telling him how he couldn't possibly ever get out of that locked room.


Number Two walked into Doctor Evil's visiting area, smiling at his boss. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Better," Doctor Evil said, aware that they were being monitored by the doctors. "Have you found her yet?"

"Not quite. We've tracked her to another country but we haven't been able to pinpoint her location exactly."

"Where did she go?" Doctor Evil asked impatiently.

"Brazil." Number Two relaxed a little. "It's Carnival down there. Brazil is crowded with foreigners. We've got inquiries out about her, but we don't expect an answer for another week, until the festivities are over and everyone leaves."

"How hard is it to find an *American* down there?"

"There's been almost a million visitors in the past three weeks, almost all of them are still in Brazil," Number Two explained. "We know she's not traveling under her name, which is also complicating our search. We have had some luck tracing her past though. That's what gave us the key to look in Brazil. She's done this before."

"Killed a man to get his woman?" Doctor Evil suggested lightly.

"Yes, sir. Five other times. She and her twin brother are both serial killers. Her twin is in a mental institution in California, though he might be getting out if what I heard is right."

"Getting out?"

"Yes, sir, there's an evaluation in his records that says he's on the road to rehabilitation. They'll let him out if he is."

"I see." Doctor Evil looked around his visiting area. "How much longer am *I* incarcerated for?"

"Until the doctors are sure that you're back to your normal self."

"Which I have been for *weeks*," he said in his best 'hello' voice.

"I know, but they're not convinced yet, sir." Number Two stood up. "I thought you'd like that update. Also, we've been keeping track of Scott for you. He's going to be staying in the Compound with his wives for another four weeks."

"I see," Doctor Evil purred. "Is he coming home then?"

"No, he's going to one of the other lairs. He's told Frau that he can't stand to see you this way." Technically, that wasn't what he said, but it was a good thing to tell the man. He wanted his boss to be healthy too, maybe. Maybe the doctors could even find a way to make him see reality more often. It'd help him a lot if they did. He smoothed down his jacket. "Is there anything I can have sent down for you? More pajamas, a different menu, anything?"

"No, I'm fine," Doctor Evil said, giving him a smile. "Tell them that I'm back to normal."

"I will," Number Two said, giving him a smile. He walked over to the door and tapped on it, getting the guard to open it for him. He gave his boss one last smile then walked out, heading for their psychiatrist's office. "He seems better," he said in greeting.

"He's still not facing reality," the doctor said, waving at the chair. "Was he lucid?"

"Yes, he was. No wandering this time." Number Two sat down. "How much longer are you going to keep him?"

"I'm very worried about his lack of reality. Doctor Evil has been confusing television for reality for quite some time according to his personal physician's notes. That is something that's very worrisome. If he can't distinguish reality from mindless entertainment, I fear he won't be able to perform at work. How can he think up plans to take over the world when he thinks he's living on the Flintstones?" he said with a smile.

Number Two chuckled. "He's been like this for *years*," he noted. "Ever since he was frozen. Could that have something to do with this?"

"I've checked with the physicians over in England who are handling Mr. Powers' case. They've seen no indication of mental instability so far. I think this may be related to missing so much time, he's having adjustment problems, but I can't get *him* to see that he has a problem so I cannot cure it." He spread his hands out. "I do what I can, but he's not cooperating. If he wants to get out sooner, he should at least pretend to cooperate." He looked at the door, then back at Number Two. "Do you think keeping that ...construct in there is wise?"

"Mini Me is the only one he's letting near him," Number Two said complacently. "You might be able to use him."

"I see the point, but it is not normal."

"Good point," Number Two said. "It could be worse. The thing could remind you even more of a child." The doctor nodded. "Try using it for now. If you have to, you can always remove him later if you think it's doing him harm." He stood up. "I'd better get back to work. Call me if there's any change." The implicit request for a warning if Doctor Evil got out got a nod. "Thank you." He walked out, heading back up to his office.

The psychiatrist made notes in the file in front of him then rewound the tape of Doctor Evil's visit with Number Two, looking over his performance.


Number Two looked up as Frau walked in, giving her a tired smile. "Any luck talking Scott out of this insanity?"

"You know how he is," she said as she sat down, wiping off her forehead. "I have a better idea of what's going on in his head though."

"And that would be?"

"He wants to destroy his father for his comments. Especially the one he made on that horrid show." She rested her palms on the table. "Is there any change?"

"No, they think he's acting very well, but the doctor said he's not getting better." Number Two leaned back in his chair. "He's even more concerned about, as he called it, Doctor Evil's adjustment problems. I think we're in for a long struggle," he said quietly, glancing around.

"Yes, but who will win this one?" Frau asked.

"That's a very good question," Number Two said grimly.