Standard Disclaimer
Rating:  R for bad actions
Category:  Demented

The Continuing Adventures of Bad Maggie Scully

By wickedz...@aol.com

Really, Maggie told herself, looking in the mirror, the medical benefits of
working for the Consortium were outstanding.  Her breasts were perkier than
ever, and the cosmetic surgery was virtually undetectable.  Technology not
available to most women her age, not even the most wealthy--and she intended to
take full advantage of it.  

Turning, she surveyed her derriere with satisfaction.  Between exercise and the
surgery, even her buttocks looked thirty years younger.

"You look terrific," said a male voice, "You aren't leaving already, are you?"

She smiled at the voice's owner, green eyes, sleek muscular body--ah, the side
benefits of her new job were sensational.  "I'm afraid I have to, Alex."  But
she moved back to the bed, stretching out beside him and petting his nice,
flat, muscled tummy.  Lovely, lovely tummy.  Younger men were so...hot.

And having one's children gone was so freeing.

She drew a fingernail delicately down between Alex's nipples.  "It's really a
pity that AD Skinner seems to have this bit between his teeth.  And after the
cleaners went to all that work to scatter the bodies."

"He doesn't believe that Mulder would ever have killed his mother."  Alex
scowled.

"Well, one can't blame him."  Maggie tickled Alex's navel.  "Matricide is
rather upsetting.  And you know, I have to take care of it."  Her fingers
strayed lower.  "What have we here?"

Alex whimpered.  "Shouldn't you take care of that, first?"  Hopeful tone.

She smiled at him fondly.  "Well, it does seem a pity to let it go to waste." 
Leaning down, she let her new, perky breasts brush his chest, his arm went
around her.  Oh, yes, younger men were something else.  Her late husband Bill
had assumed the shape of a rather overstuffed sofa before his death, she hadn't
gotten this up close and personal with a fine specimen since--since Bill was
young and frisky and in the Navy.

And Alex's skills were...more than merely adequate.  They were downright
amazing.

Skinner could definitely wait.


The phone call had worked.  Wearing little more than a skimpy hospital gown and
a robe, Maggie had waited outside the warehouse for the arrival of the FBI
team.  The lack of subtlety in their arrival made her shake her head, resigned,
but Skinner had been there.

Maggie clung to him, mock hysterical. "Oh, my God, Mr. Skinner, my baby, they
got my baby!"

He tried to soothe her.  "Mrs. Scully, what happened?  Who did, who took you?"

"I don't know!  They broke into my Mother's Day dinner and that's all I
remember.  A very bright light and loud voices."  She sobbed.

"I need a medic," Skinner barked, over her head.  "Dammit, where's the
ambulance."

"I'm all right," she told him tremulously.  "Have you found Dana yet?"

That got his attention.  "Dana?"  Audible swallow. "Mrs. Scully, I think you'd
better--I'll see you at the hospital, all right?"

"I don't need the hospital, I want my Dana," she told him, sobbing again.  "And
my boys, where are my boys?"

Another audible swallow.  "I'll debrief you on the situation at the hospital,
Mrs. Scully, just--just come along, here's the ambulance."

"They wanted to know if she told me anything," she wept, "They kept giving me
drugs and asking the same questions again and again."

His arm tightened over her shoulders.  "Right this way, Mrs. Scully."  Gruffly,
and he took her to the paramedic himself.

"But I'm all right, I tell you."  She wiped her eyes.  "You've got to find my
children!"

Several agents nearby exchanged somber looks.  Skinner swallowed hard again,
patted her shoulder awkwardly.  "I'll see you soon, Mrs. Scully."

She wiped at her eyes again.  "Thank you," she told him, her tone heartfelt. 
"I know you'll do whatever you can, Mr. Skinner."

A muscle in his jaw jumped and he looked away, his expression distinctly
uncomfortable.

Poor man, she thought and let herself be put on the stretcher, amused herself
by thinking about Alex's proposal to recreate the Kama Sutra in the flesh when
she'd finished with this task.

Dear Alex, so imaginative and inventive.  She hadn't had this much fun since
the Naval Academy ball and the five midshipmen.

She was reasonably certain that Dana hadn't had that much fun at the FBI Ball,
but Dana had always tended to be a stick in the mud.  It really was a pity. 
She certainly hoped that Dana hadn't still been a virgin; surely Mulder hadn't
been quite *that* inept at reading her late daughter.

Ah, well, too late to worry about now.  She merely had to take up the strands
of her life again, blessed unentangled with offspring.

And blessedly tangled with that naughty devil Alex Krycek.  Letting herself be
covered with a blanket, she dreamily considered the shape of Alex's cock.

And smiled.

********************************************

Skinner's expression was very grave, he took her hand.  "Mrs. Scully, I'm
afraid I have bad news for you."

He had a delightfully rumbly voice, she decided, and he certainly smelled good
when he leaned over her.  She'd had her neighbor bring her a nightshirt that
gaped attractively in the front, the better to show off her new breasts; she
saw Skinner's eyes on them even though he tried to pretend he hadn't seen them.
 The flush across his cheekbones gave him away, especially when she drew his
hand to the spot between her breasts.  "Oh, God, is it Dana?"  Heartstricken
tone.  She mentally approved of it, not too much, not over the top, just the
faintest touch of resignation--he bought it, hook, line and sinker.

He turned redder as his knuckles brushed her nipple through the soft cotton. 
He cleared his throat.  "Er, I'm afraid so, ma'am.  We found her body in her
apartment.  It looks very much as thought she were poisoned somewhere else and
moved back to her apartment."

She let tears come to her eyes.  "Oh, God!  Dana!"  And flung herself at that
broad, manly chest.  Now why couldn't Bill have stayed in shape like this, she
wondered, feeling rock hard abs and deliciously developed pecs.  Oh, this
assignment was going to be far more pleasant than her last, although she
couldn't deny being relieved to have Bill Jr. and Charlie out of the way.  "My
poor baby!"

He patted her awkwardly with his free hand, the other still trapped between her
breasts.  "I'm sorry, Mrs. Scully, but I'm afraid there's more bad news.  Your
two sons--we've already informed your daughter in law Tara, I'm afraid."

She sobbed harder, thinking of the brand new brocade sofa Bill had ruined in
the seventies, when she'd been on a tight Navy wife budget.  "Oh, my God!"

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Scully, terribly sorry.  We're going to do everything we can
to find the bastard who did this."

She devoutly hoped not, drew back with reddened eyes and still clutching
Skinner's hand.  "How is Fox taking the news?"

He looked freshly stricken.  "Er, I'm afraid Mulder is--he also was poisoned,
Mrs. Scully.  He and his mother, both."

She gasped, squeezed his hand tighter.  "Who would do such a thing!  My God,
I'm fortunate to be alive!"

"You are," he agreed.

There were tiny beads of sweat forming on his upper lip and he was beginning to
make the slightest effort to retrieve his hand again.

She offered him a wan smile.  "They're going to let me go home tomorrow
morning."  Let tears fill her eyes again.  There was the time Charlie had used
her diaphragm as a miniature frisbee, which had led to Dana's birth, that was
always good for a tear or two.  Four children in as many years, and that fool
of a husband had insisted they practice rhythm until after the third.

Yes, Charlie deserved what she had done to him.

"I'll keep you updated, Mrs. Scully."  He was really beginning to sweat.

Taking pity, she let go of his hand.  "My whole family is gone now." 
Tragically.  "My God, all because of the monsters who took my daughter to begin
with."

He flushed a dull red.  "Er, I know.  I'm very, very sorry, Mrs. Scully."

She buried her face in her hands, sobbing.  Not too hard, just as if she
couldn't repress it any more, as if her faith had finally failed her.

He patted her again.  "I'll--do you have someone to take you home tomorrow?"

She lifted her head, proudly displaying tearstains.  "No, I'm afraid...Dana
would have done it for me."  Tremulously.

Really, if the man felt any guiltier, he'd spontaneously combust, he turned an
even darker red.  "Er, I'll be glad to take care of that."

Bravely, she wiped her eyes again.  "Oh, that would be very nice, Mr. Skinner,
if you could just have some nice junior agent...."  And she burst into
mock-tears again.

"I'll take care of it myself," he told her, his tone getting a bit desparate. 
"All right?  Would that be all right?"

Another brave smile.  "Oh, that's so very kind of you."

He nodded awkwardly, patted her again and made his escape.

Humming, Maggie picked up the novel Mary Jean had brought for her.  Yes, this
was going to be easier than shooting fish in a barrel.

And she might get a bit of fun on the side.


By the time two weeks had passed, however, she was forced to admit defeat.

"The man is driving me mad," she declared, still straddling Alex Krycek's body.
 "No matter what I do... don't I look good, darling?  Don't I smell good?  Don't I
have the slightest bit of allure?"

Krycek whimpered and arched up.  "Oh, Christ, Maggie."  Heartfelt tone.  "You
know you do, you do."

Leaning forward, she ran her fingernails delicately over his nipples.  "Well,
then why won't he accept any of my invitations!?"

"Maybe he doesn't appreciate mature women," Krycek whimpered.  "Oh, more,
please."

She beamed down at him.  "Someone wants a spanking," she murmured.  "If you're
very, very good, I'll give you one before you leave."

More squirming ensued, squirming and arching and thrusting and stroking and
caressing that hit all the right spots.

No one could say that *Alex* didn't appreciate mature women, she thought
distantly, bouncing lustily, and oh, my, didn't he just know how to show it.

She yodeled out her pleasure a short time later and rested her elbows on Alex's
chest.  "What *am* I going to do about that man," she muttered.

"Drug him."  Alex yawned hugely.  "Mmmmm, Maggie, you're wonderful.  He's
obviously insane.  Drug him."

"With what?"  She brooded.

Dark green eyes were partly closed, exhaustion setting in.  Not that Alex
complained in the least.  In fact, he insisted.  It was one of his more
adorable characteristics.  Fuck me stupid, pleeeeeaaaaase, he often begged.

And she could never resist a properly worded please.

"Um, I've got something.  It acts as an inhibition release and also stirs up
the libido."  Drowsily.  "I can get it for you tomorrow night."

She purred, ran her thumb over the cupid's bow of his mouth, fairly purring. 
Really, all those years wasted with the Altar Society--it really was a pity. 
"You really shouldn't come over here," she chided, "But I just can't seem to
bring myself to make you leave."

He squirmed happily, his mouth curving even as his eyes shut..  "Mmmmm, thank
God."

Bending her head, she kissed his mouth lightly and got out of bed.  

A nice long bubble bath was just what she needed.  A glass of wine would relax
her.  And then maybe she could think of the proper way to deal with Mr. Walter
Sergei Skinner.

Maybe Alex was right. 

Candy was dandy, but liquor was quicker.

She wondered how fast this drug worked.

Fortunately, she didn't have to wait long to find out.


It was very easy to slip into Skinner's tea, tasteless and odorless and he
drank his tea as quickly as seemed decently possible, evidently in a hurry to
leave after stopping by with Dana's benefits paperwork.  

That made her pause, made her vision blur with tears--ah, that Dana, always so
thoughtful, it really was a pity…..

Soon, even before the tea was gone, Skinner's expression was glazed.  

"Now, Walter," she murmured and cupped his cheek.  "Don't you want to come
upstairs with me?"

He looked at her and his lower lip quivered.  "Do I have to?"

Really, it was quite insulting.  "Of course not!"  Rather incensed, but she
breathed in deeply.  Calmed her self.  "Does that mean you don't want to?"

His lip quivered again.  "You're very nice, Mrs. Scully, but I'm in mourning."

In mourning?  Maggie opened her mouth, closed it again.  For her daughter, she
wondered, and felt fresh respect for Dana.  "For Dana?"  Delicately.

He shook his head, his expression lugubrious.  "No, but I'm very sorry about
your loss."  His mouth trembled again and his eyes were too bright behind the
lenses of his glasses.  "For Fox," he blurted.

She blinked.  Coughed.  Stared.  "Oh, my GOD!" she shrieked suddenly, standing
up and knocking her grandmother's china cup and saucer to the carpet.  "You and
Fox Mulder!  No wonder Dana never got any!  You cad!  You bounder!  You
reprehensible son of a bitch!"  She swung, slapping his face openhanded.

Walter Sergei Skinner, iron man of the Violent Crimes Division, burst into
heartbreaking sobs.

Her poor, darling baby, waiting vainly for true love that would never come. 
"Oh. My. God.  How long did this go on?"

"Ever since his father died," Skinner blubbered.  "You just don't understand,
we loved each other, Mrs. Scully, even if it was the love that did not dare
speak its name."

"Oh, get a grip, Walter, this is the twentieth century."  Scathingly and she
paced.  "Really, what is the world coming to--he never even came out to her!!" 
Why, she was half-minded to go dig Mulder back up and shoot him, for good
measure.

Turning again, she surveyed him.  It was ridiculous.  The man had lost all his
dignity.  Hmmph.  "Never mind, Walter," she told him, pitching her tone to
soothe.  "You'll feel better soon.  Time heals all wounds.  Would you like so
more tea?"

"Yes, please."  He took a crisp white handkerchief out of his pocket and blew
his nose.

Sighing, she went into the kitchen and refilled the cup; turning away from the
stove, she opened the utensil drawer and extracted the icepick.  Honestly,
there wasn't even any fun to be had like this.  

She was simply putting him out of his misery.

A strong arm encircled her waist.  "Alex," she hissed crossly, "Get out of
here, I've got to finish up."

His teeth nibbled her ear.  "I told you he was insane," whispered in her ear. 
"Want me to do it?"

She resisted for a moment, then relinquished the icepick to him.  "Oh, all
right, that will give me the chance to start dinner again."

He kissed the side of her throat again.  "Mmmmm, roast chicken?"

"If that's what you want."  Her crossness evaporated.  He really was a dear. 
So thoughtful, so appreciative.  And he loved her cooking.

With any luck, she'd never be ordered to make a special dinner for him.

Turning, she leaned up and kissed him.  "Don't be late, dear."

He beamed.  "Won't take a minute, Maggie."  Another kiss and he was gone,
moving in the shadows toward the front room.  

She waited, listening.  A short startled sound and a thud.  There, it was done.
 And Alex was always neat about his work, there wouldn't even be a stain.

Humming under her breath, Maggie went to the refrigerator.  Oh, life was good. 
Life was splendid.

She wonder what her next assignment would bring.  




...[It's] a simply Gothic little place consisting of three of borderline
personalities, a trailer park sophist, a dyslexic and two old dykes
struggling not to pop out of their bondage gear...
	The Marquise De Lean