Anyone for Pie? 
by Leyla Harrison

Disclaimer: Chris Carter would *not* like what I'm about to do to his
characters.  If he's reading this, I have one thing to say: close your
eyes, Chris.

Spoilers: None.

Classification: V, H

Rating: NC-17 (but not for the reasons you think!)

Summary: She's "Mother of the Year" -- but there are a few skeletons in
Maggie Scully's closet.  And they're all about to come tumbling out....

*****

"Oh yes, Scu-- I mean, Chantal...tell me more..."

"Well, Marty, my lips are around your cock...you *are* touching
yourself, aren't you, Marty?"

"Oh *yeah*."

"I would just suck on you...let my mouth move up and down on you,
cupping your balls in my hand, squeezing them every few moments..."

"Oh, God, I'm so close..."

"I know, baby, I want you to come for me...come in my mouth."

"Jesus..."

There was a long series of moans, gasps, and a loud, long cry.

Then silence.

"Marty?  Hon?  Are you still there?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm here.  I'm...here."

A deep, throaty chuckle came across the phone line.

"You've got it bad for that girl, don't you, Marty?"

"I thought you weren't supposed to get personally involved with your
'clients', Chantal," Mulder said.

"Oh, I know, but you...you're special, Marty.  You're my exception."

This time it was Mulder's turn to chuckle.  "I have to go, Chantal."

"You call me again soon, OK, Marty?"

"I will, Chantal."

Click.

Mulder surveyed himself.  A shower.  That was what he needed.

He *loved* talking to Chantal.  Her voice was so much like Scully's.

He got up from the couch and headed into the bathroom.

On the other end of the phone line, Chantal punched in the credit card
code that she knew by heart.  Marty, her Marty.  She knew his real name
-- Fox Mulder.  She knew that he worked for the FBI.  She knew he was in
love with Scully -- Dana, as he called her sometimes when he was really
hot.

"Next time Marty calls, Chantal, he's mine.  I'm gonna give his ear a
real workout -- along with a few parts," one of the other operators
chortled.

"I don't think so." Chantal's voice was clipped, angry.  

"Keeping him all to yourself?  You know that's not fair."

"Don't take his calls.  When that man calls, he's mine.  Do you
understand?"

Her voice was serious.  Deadly serious.

And when she talked like that, people listened.  Rumor had it that she
had killed someone before.  Although no one knew if it was true.

The other operator took a chance.  "Well, honey, we'll just have to see
who answers the phone next time he calls."

"Yes," Chantal said under her breath.  "We'll see."

*****

MRS. SCULLY'S HOUSE
The place where all good pies come from


"Mom?"

Scully entered her mother's house.  Her mother was curled up on the
couch.

"Mom, what's wrong?"

"Oh, Dana, I didn't hear you come in.  I was just...sitting here."

"Mom, you look awful.  What's wrong?"

"Nothing, dear.  I just...had plans for tonight, and I'm not feeling
well enough to go."

Scully sat down next to her mother and hugged her.  "You had a date? 
That's wonderful, Mom."

"You know, Dana," Mrs. Scully said, pulling out of her daughter's
embrace, "this isn't the first time I've had a date since your father
died."

Scully's eyes couldn't hide her surprise.

"You're kidding!  Mom, who is he?  Tell me all about him."

"His name is Bill.  Bill, Jr."

Scully's brow wrinkled.  "He's got your son's name.  And your
husband's.  That's...a little odd, Mom, don't you think?"

"No, not really."

Scully looked at her mother quizzically, waiting for an explanation.

Finally Mrs. Scully sighed heavily.  "If you have to know, Dana...I've
been seeing him for about two years now.  He's been wonderful to me. 
He's..." she trailed off, looking away from her daughter for a moment,
then looking back, "25 years old."

Scully's eyes just about popped out of her head.

"What???" she asked incredulously.  "Mom, you're --"

"I know how old I am, Dana Katherine.  And I don't need you to remind
me," Mrs. Scully cut her daughter off sharply.  

"I can't believe that you would...date...someone that young," Scully
moaned, her head in her hands.  "Dad is probably turning in his grave."

"Well, I'm sure that's not true, Dana.  Besides, I was seeing someone
when I was married to your father.  For years."  Might as well get the
truth out, she thought.  

"WHAT?"  

"You heard me.  I was dating Bill Jr's brother.  Bobby."

"How old was he?" Scully asked, still in a state of shock.

"He was 21 when I started seeing him, and 30 when I broke it off.  He
was just getting a little too old for my tastes.  Younger men are so
much more...exciting in bed."

"MOM!" Scully practically wailed.  She didn't want to think about her
mother like this.  It was too terrifying.  Too...upsetting.  

Too mortifying.

Scully wiped her tears.  "Mom, I have to go.  Mulder and I have a serial
killer case we need to follow up on.  His victims have all been in their
early thirties, red hair, professional, and petite."

"Don't you think that's a little dangerous, honey?" Mrs. Scully asked,
concerned.  

"No, Mom, I'll be fine.  Mulder takes good care of me.  You know that."

Scully kissed her mom on the top of the head.  "I'll call you.  Or if
anything happens to me, Mulder will call you and tell you the name of
the hospital I'm in."

Scully left.

Mrs. Scully stayed curled up on the couch.  

Fox Mulder.

Always putting her daughter in danger.

*****

MULDER'S APARTMENT
Where there is no bed, but the couch does just fine


Mulder was just getting out of the shower when he heard the phone ring. 
He ran to grab it, but by the time he got there, whoever it was had hung
up.

"Damn," he thought, thinking of Scully.

Naked and dripping wet, he headed back into the bathroom to towel off.

*****

An hour later, Mulder heard a soft knocking on his door.

Scully, he thought happily.  She had said she was going to pick him up
right after she packed her things for the case.

He opened the door.  

No one was there.  

A box was at his feet.

He crouched down and picked it up.  Shook it.  There was something
inside, but it didn't weigh much.

Lifting the lid, his face changed from curiosity to horror.

Inside the box were a cluster of black roses.

The phone rang.

He ran for it this time.  

"Scully?" he asked hopefully.

"I hope you like your flowers," an unidentifiable voice said, then hung
up.

*****

In her car, Mrs. Scully took her foot off the brake and eased away from
the curb, a smile on her face.

She turned off her cel phone.

*****

ANYWHERE, USA
A little motel off the side of the road
Sometime late at night


Mulder tossed and turned in his creaky, lumpy hotel bed.  He wasn't able
to sleep.  He was thinking about the black roses.  About the phone
call.  About Scully.

His mind always wandered back to her.  

And when it did that late at night, it usually led one hand to his
credit card and the phone, and the other to his cock.

Which was straining quite impressively tonight.

He dialed using his calling card and punched in his credit card number,
waiting for the call to be transferred.

Chantal, he thought.  Take me away.

*****

Inside the small, dreary room, thirty phones were connected to the
outside world.  About twenty women were engaged in some kind of sex
talk.  The other ten were filing their nails, reading magazines, doing
crossword puzzles.  Some were even knitting.

The phone rang.

"I'll get this one," one of the operators said.

She picked up the phone and a sly smile crossed her face.

"Hi, Marty.  No, this isn't Chantal," she said, loud enough for the
operator next to her to hear.  "She's not here."

The operator in the next cubicle stood up, her eyes blazing with fury.

*****

ANYWHERE, USA
The same little motel off the side of the road
Sometime later that same night

The phone rang in Scully's room.  She roused herself from sleep and
answered it sleepily.  "Mulder, it's four in the morning.  This had
better be good."

There was a pause.

"Mulder?  Is that you?"

"No, Dana, it's your mother."

Scully sat up in bed, instantly alarmed.  

"Mom, what's wrong?"

"Dana, I'm...in jail.  I need you to come and bail me out."

"Jail, Mom?  What the hell happened?"

"I'd rather tell you when you get here.  Can you get back here?"

"Of course.  I'll be there as soon as I can."  Scully hung up the phone
and got up, knocking softly on the connecting door.  "Mulder?" she
called.

A moment later, his muffled voice came through the door.  "Yeah?"

"Can you open the door?"

Rustling noises, and then Mulder opened the door, appearing sleepy and
very contented.

"What's going on, Scully?"

"My mother's in jail.  I don't know what happened, but..."

She rubbed her eyes.  There seemed to be a lot about her mother that she
didn't know.  She didn't know how much more she could take.

"Scully, get your things packed.  I'll go with you."

*****

JAIL
Do not pass GO, do not collect $200
The next morning


Scully strode into the holding cell where her mother was resting on the
cot.  Mulder was on her heels.  Not literally, but close enough.

"Mom."

"Dana.  Fox?  What are you doing here?"

"Mom, Mulder came with me for support.  What happened?"

The police chief came in.  "According to almost twenty witnesses, your
mother strangled Ashley Smith with a phone cord, then stabbed her forty
times with a knitting needle."

Scully buried her head in her hands, sobbing.  Mulder put his arm around
her for support.

"Take your hands *off* my daughter!" Mrs. Scully jumped up.  The police
chief hurried over to her side and held her back.

"What?  Mom, what's wrong with you?"

Mrs. Scully's eyes shot daggers at Mulder.  "You..." she sputtered. 
"Always dragging my Dana off into all kinds of dangerous situations. 
Serial killers.  Mutants.  Psychos.  How *dare* you?"

Mulder blanched.  "Mrs. Scully, I--"

"Don't you Mrs. Scully me, *Marty*," she practically growled.

Scully looked up at Mulder in confusion.  "Marty?  Why is she calling
you Marty?"

"Oh my God..." Mulder whispered in horror, realization washing over him
like a very cold, wet washcloth.  

"Yes, baby," Mrs. Scully crooned.  "I know what you like, Marty. 
Chantal always knows what you like. You like to think about *my
daughter* when I'm telling how I'd like to have you come in my mouth. 
You like to think about *her* when I tell you I'm fucking you.  Isn't
that right, Marty?"

"MOM!" Scully cried.

Mulder was speechless.  

Well, practically.

"Oh my God," he murmured again.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Scully, but your mother very obviously committed the
crime she's been charged with.  There are almost twenty witnesses, like
I told you."

"And I confess!" Mrs. Scully yelled above the commotion of Scully's sobs
and Mulder's mutterings.  "I did it.  I stabbed that little bitch.  She
tried to get you away from me.  She took your call when she knew *damn*
well that I was the only one who was supposed to take your calls."

"Calls?" Scully sniffled in confusion.  "What calls?"

"Ms. Scully," the police chief said, almost apologetically, "your mother
works as a phone sex operator.  She's been employed by the 'Do Me
Agency' for almost 6 years now."

Scully wailed again, pressing her face into Mulder's shoulder.

"Scully, I'm so sorry," Mulder moaned.

Scully put the pieces together and pushed him away suddenly.  "You've
been having phone sex with my MOTHER?" she yelled.  

Mulder hung his head.

"And I sent you the flowers too, Fox," Mrs. Scully yelled.  "I'm so sick
of you hurting my daughter that I decided that it would be fun to screw
with your head a little bit."

"Screw with my head?" he yelled back.  "You call this screwing with my
head?  This is insanity!"

"Yeah, but I got you, Fox.  I got you, baby," she laughed loudly.  

Mulder hurried away, unable to look at her any longer.

Scully watched him go, knowing that this was a whole new type of
ditching.

The police chief took Scully's arm.  "We should really go.  The court
appointed psychiatrist is on his way to examine your mother."

"I love you, darling," Mrs. Scully called after her daughter as she left
the cell.  "Call Bill Jr. for me."

Scully shuddered at the thought of calling her brothers and having to
explain this to them.

"And tell him we can always have conjugal visits," Mrs. Scully added
loudly.

Whoops, Scully thought with shame.  Wrong Bill Jr. 

She walked away from her mother's cell.

Her life would never be the same again.

Her mother squeezed her face in between the bars for one last promise. 
"I'll make you a cherry pie when I get home Dana, your favorite!"

END

******************************************
"I'm standing on the edge of common sense
 here."	  --Dana Scully, The X-Files