Maggie's Turn

Maggie Scully made her way to her daughter's apartment because she had a bad feeling. She'd been having disturbing dreams for the past couple of nights and while she used to ignore those dreams, she couldn't anymore. She'd had a dream that could have been considered a warning but she ignored it and Dana had been taken away. She'd always regretted that. Now she paid more attention.

She didn't see Dana's car outside so she assumed she wasn't home yet. Her daughter wouldn't mind if she waited for her in her apartment. She let herself in.

Maggie decided she'd make some coffee and was just reaching for the light when she was grabbed from behind, a hand going over her mouth, an arm going around her waist as she was pulled back against a tall body. She froze as a gun nudged into her belly.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Scully," was whispered in her ear. She was strangely affected by the use of her last name. "I just want to talk to you."

The hand over her mouth didn't loosen however and she was still tightly clenched against the man's chest. After a moment the hand over her mouth loosened and tentatively fell away.

She took a breath and strained to talk above a whisper, "What do you want to talk about?"

But Krycek was ignoring her because he had just realized that something was seriously wrong. He let his hand brush over the woman's hair. It was soft and short but other than that he couldn't tell if there was any difference. He'd never had a reason to touch Scully's hair before. The woman pressed up against his body seemed taller than he thought Scully would be, even though she fit against his body nicely with long slim curves. Something was wrong.

"Scully?"

"Yes?"

The voice was wrong somehow. Deeper and more vibrant than Scully's hard, cold voice. He was going to have to turn on a light and actually look at her. No more mistaken identity because it was too dark to tell just who he was talking to, shooting at. He shoved the memory away.

He couldn't turn the light on in here. If he turned a light on in the living room it would be visible all up and down the block. He wanted to keep this as clandestine as possible. He started to pull the woman he suspected wasn't actually Scully into the bedroom.

Maggie was confused. He said he wanted to talk, but didn't say another word then started pulling her across the room. When they reached the bedroom door she thought she understood. He said he didn't want to hurt her and as much as he may say he only wanted to talk there was only one reason that she could think of that he would be dragging her into the bedroom. She began to struggle wildly, disregarding the gun that still nudged her belly.

"Scully, stop it!" he whispered fiercely. He didn't really believe anymore that this was Scully but he continued to call her by that name. She answered to that name. Before he had a chance to really figure out what that meant his full attention was suddenly centered on keeping the wildly struggling woman in his arms actually in his arms.

She was ignoring the gun and it wasn't helping him keep a grip on her so he shoved it away in his holster. But that gave her the opportunity she was waiting for and she lunged away from him. He snatched at her and managed to grab the back of her jacket, but quick as an eel she skimmed out of it and he was left standing with his mouth open and an empty jacket. But he stood between her and the door. She immediately reversed course and tried to shove by him and out the door.

He grabbed at her but only managed to latch onto her shirt. He jerked back hard and heard a loud rip.

"No!" The denial was forced from her as her shirt ripped open down the front. This wasn't happening to her. She didn't have a chance to say any more because his arm went around her waist again and she lost her breath as it tightened down and slammed her back against a hard body.

Breathless and quickly becoming dizzy, she could only struggle feebly as the man carried her to the bed. She was pressed down onto her back, the man climbing on top of her and holding her down. But he didn't move again for a long moment. Her breath was tight and short with fear.

"Scully," he soothed, "calm down. I'm not going to hurt you."

"What do you--" She had to take another short breath. "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk to you."

"So talk." Maggie knew that this man thought she was her daughter, Dana, but she wasn't going to correct that impression if she could spare her daughter from going through this. "What do you want?"

He was silent another long moment.

"Stay there." He slowly eased back and off her and she was able to breath again, some of the fear subsiding. She lay frozen, unmoving against the bed, until there was a click and soft light flooded the room. She flung her arm over her eyes in surprise and cried out a soft "oh!"

Krycek was frozen and staring. It wasn't Dana. It definitely wasn't Dana.

This woman had black hair and a tall, lean body. His eyes swept down her body one more time without his permission. Nice. Very nice. The excitement and adrenaline that had been pumping through his body smoothly flowed into arousal until he took a tight grip on it. He wasn't here for that and he wasn't that kind of guy anyway. It was just the excitement and danger of the situation. And the memory of that firm body wildly moving against his. But he shoved that memory away and forced himself to stare at her coldly.

Her arm dropped away from over her eyes and she propped herself up to stare at him. He was floored by amazing blue eyes and tried to take in a breath. He knew those eyes. Those were Scully's eyes. But this wasn't Scully. Confused and bemused, he stared into eyes with the depth of oceans.

He was distracted again as she tugged her shirt closed and wrapped an arm over it to keep it that way.

"What do you want?"

He was still dazed. "I want Scully. You're not Scully." This wasn't going according to plan. This woman wasn't anywhere in his plans nor was his strange response to her, but at the moment he was helpless to do anything about it. He could only stand and stare at her.

When the man only stood and stared at her for another long minute, Maggie finally spoke up, trying to get some response from the man. "You mean Dana."

He stared at her blankly, uncomprehending.

She sighed impatiently. "Dana Scully. Is that who you're looking for?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Maggie frowned. His voice seemed a little thick. Hoarse even.

"I'm Maggie Scully."

"Maggie," he repeated dumbly. She was beautiful in a self-confident way that he found most appealing. His eyes swept down her body one more time.

"Dana's mother, Maggie," she clarified impatiently.

She was perversely pleased by the surprised shock that visibly went through his body. His eyes jerked to hers and she easily read the disbelief there. His eyes roamed down her body and she jerked as she realized just how suggestive that look was. She was out of practice with sexual games and it had taken her a minute to recognize the signs on him. The hoarse voice, roaming eyes and, her eyes swept down his body, tensely coiled body were plain if she'd only been looking for it. She felt a shiver that wasn't entirely unpleasant. She ran her eyes down his body one more time. He was a handsome young man although not very polite. But he hadn't hurt her and that tended to go in his favor. Her eyes went over him one more time before she came back to his face. Very handsome.

While Maggie appraised him, Krycek was struggling with sudden crippling guilt and shame. She was Dana's *mother* for God's sake! What was he doing?! But his eyes went down her body one more time and he realized she didn't look like any mother he'd ever seen. He had to look closely before he saw the slightest sign of her true age on her face and that was only the telltale maturity in the structure more than anything else. Her eyes were young and sharp, and her body was lean and firm. He knew that from firsthand experience. He shook that thought away guiltily. This was insane. He had to get a hold of himself. He wasn't here to fuck Dana's mom, no matter how compelling she was. His mind recoiled at the crude term, suddenly ashamed to even think it in her presence. She was oddly dignified even tumbled across the bed in a sprawl of limbs. She hadn't moved from where he dropped her and her hair tangled around her face as she clutched her shirt shut. He desperately wanted her to let it drop open again.

He took a firm hold on his self-control and stepped back. He swallowed and cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Scully," he said respectfully. He was suddenly feeling intensely guilty over manhandling her like that. "I need to see Dana and we're not on the best of terms right now. I *have* to talk to her."

"Who are you? An old boyfriend?" Thoughts of obsessive ex-boyfriends rolled wildly through her head. She doubtfully looked him up and down again. He didn't seem the type.

She was caught in a flashing grin. Very handsome.

"No, not an old boyfriend." He grinned wider, thinking of Scully's response at even the suggestion. "Old business acquaintances," he corrected delicately. "I have some information she needs to hear."

Her eyes roamed down his body again. She was pleased but also strangely disappointed to note the signs of interest in her had disappeared. He only stared at her with deferential respect now. She hadn't felt that jolt of awareness in a very long time. It had felt nice. She shoved the memory away and looked at him one more time.

She frowned. He was thin. He was tall and lean but he was much too thin, like he hadn't had a lot to eat lately. His hair was long and shaggy around his face like he hadn't had time to get a decent haircut either. She sat up the rest of the way and scooted to the edge of the bed. He jerked in alarm at her movement but quickly stifled it and only stepped back respectfully as she slowly stood up.

"Dana should be home in just a little bit. Want some coffee while we wait?"

He suddenly wanted that with a yearning that was painful in its intensity. His reaction told him he should go. Just leave. He had no place here with this woman and her kind eyes, but for once his will failed him. He couldn't force himself to leave so he merely nodded dumbly. "That would be nice."

As he followed her out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, he incredulously repeated to himself, 'That would be nice?!' Since when did he talk like that? But he couldn't seem to help himself around her.

He quietly sat down in the chair she indicated and watched her move around the kitchen. She had taken the two sides of her torn shirt and deftly tied them together. Guilt stabbed at him as he remembered jerking her around so harshly but at the same time he had a hard time pulling his eyes away from the gaping shirt that revealed the gentle swells of her breasts and fell open almost down to her bra. She turned away and began rummaging in a cabinet. He was able to look away and stare at nothing.

"Would you like a sandwich? I haven't had dinner yet and I'm getting hungry." She turned to stare at him inquiringly. He had to force his eyes to stay on her face, but her kind eyes were doing even stranger things to his insides than the sight of her open shirt.

He smiled and his face changed from somber regard to shining acceptance that was stunning in its beauty. Maggie suddenly realized how close it was in the little kitchen, how hot and stuffy. She tried to take in a breath past the sudden constriction in her throat.

"Yes, thank you. I would like a sandwich."

She turned away and busied herself with preparing their impromptu dinner. He was too thin. He needed to eat. She made him two sandwiches, thick with roast beef, and coffee and set out cookies. He immediately dived in while she watched and picked at the one thin sandwich she had made for herself.

As she watched him eat with good appetite, she became curious about this young man and his connection to her daughter. She waited until he had polished off the second sandwich before speaking up.

"How do you know Dana?"

The last of the delicious roast beef sandwich he had been savoring stuck in his throat and he took a quick gulp of coffee, avoiding looking at her. <I killed your other daughter by mistake after betraying Dana and setting her up to be kidnapped> He hadn't really killed Melissa, but he had been there and even the law recognizes accessory to murder. He didn't want to think about what she would think of him if she knew.

"I, uh, used to be in the FBI. A long time ago." It wasn't really that long ago. It just *seemed* like years and years.

But that prompted a pleased smile from Maggie. "So you used to be friends? Did you know each other at Quantico?" Maggie was trying to puzzle out the exact nature of their relationship.

Krycek was busy watching her pleased smile slip away into a puzzled frown. He found himself craving that smile. He wanted to pour the whole sordid story out to her, surround himself with her sympathy and smiling eyes, but he knew that if he confessed even half of the things he'd done she would hate him. And with cause. She lost a daughter because he hadn't had the guts to stand up to the cold-hearted bastards that were his employers. Not soon enough anyway. He remembered the phone call he had made tendering his resignation and hoped the bastard choked on his smoke in front of those 'Elders'. He was unaware of the feral grin that stretched his mouth and gave a strange light to his eyes.

Maggie watched him uneasily. "Hello? Young man?"

That snapped him back to attention. He didn't want her to talk to him like that. He knew in some deep, dark recess that she was old enough to be his mother, but that couldn't stop the instinctive recoil at being treated like her son.

"Call me Alex," he said gruffly and smiled encouragingly.

She smiled uncertainly. That couldn't be hunger she saw in his eyes, could it? "All right, then. Alex." Her smile strengthened. "What's wrong, Alex?" He looked like he was in pain.

Krycek *was* in pain. Her smile went straight to his heart but his name on her lips sent a shaft of hot desire right through him. He was struggling to maintain his self-control as he realized he wanted those lips against his the next time she said his name. And that was insanity. He looked around almost desperately. What was he doing? He had to get out of here before Scully got home. If she found him here, sitting and chatting with her mom, she'd pull out her gun and shoot him, no questions asked. He couldn't even blame her if she did.

If she came home and found Alex Krycek kissing her mother, she'd skin him alive and *then* shoot him. He had to leave. Now.

But he didn't move.

"Uh, Maggie? Why did you come here?" He was suddenly intensely curious. If she knew that Dana wasn't home, why did she come inside?

She stared at him seriously. "I had a bad feeling." She shrugged helplessly. He watched her shoulders rise and fall with fascination. "I had to come make sure my baby girl was all right."

Krycek had dizzying split vision as he tried to comprehend that this vibrant, sexy woman in front of him was referring to another woman as her baby girl. His mind rejected the image but he suddenly absorbed what else she had said.

"A bad feeling? What exactly?" He was intensely curious about this paradoxical woman.

"It's the foreboding feeling of a thunderstorm threatening on the horizon when your husband is out to sea. It's fear of something that hasn't happened yet, but you know it's coming."

At mention of a husband, Krycek's neat little fantasy world turned upside down and tumbled away. A husband.

"You're married? Where's your husband?" Of course she was married, stupid. What did you think? But he couldn't help how low and throaty the questions came out. He didn't want her to be married.

Maggie was taken by surprise by the desperate hunger she saw in his eyes. That couldn't be what she was seeing. "I, uh, was married. I'm a widow now."

The sudden stunning relief that came over him forced him to take a breath. "I'm sorry," he said quietly as he tried to contain his elation.

Maggie shrugged. "It's been a few years. We were together a long time." Her eyes went out of focus as she thought of her husband of so many years. He'd been a good man. She still missed him occasionally with a depth of grief that surprised her but mostly she continued on, confident that they would meet again one day.

She started to gather up the plates. "Life goes on." She turned to the sink and began rinsing the plates off. "So you never told me how you know Dana."

He slapped down the sudden yearning for her to look like that when she thought of him and dragged his attention back to what she was saying. Dana. She was asking about Dana again. He gathered up their coffee cups and walked up behind her at the sink as he tried to think of something to say.

She turned around with another question on her lips and gasped with surprise to find him so close. She clutched a hand to her chest. "You startled me."

"I'm sorry." he said quietly but he couldn't stop himself from intently staring at her. He finally gave in and acknowledged how he felt about her. He wanted her. He wanted her body and he wanted her smile and he wanted her concern and kindness. She was all woman and he found himself craving her like an addiction.

He still held a coffee cup in each hand. He slowly spread his arms and leaned in towards her, his head descending towards her, and gently put the cups down on the counter behind her. His arms surrounding her and standing much too close, he didn't move away as he stared down into crystal clear eyes.

Maggie stared up into his eyes and realized he was going to kiss her. A lightning bolt of awareness shot through her, but before she could decide if this was a good idea or a bad idea, his lips gently closed on hers and all rational thought disappeared. Her arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him closer. He felt so good against her, strong and warm, and his lips on hers were gently teasing but passionately insistent. His arms went around her, his hands coming down on her bare midriff then he was inching her back until she was up against the counter. The kiss deepened. She moaned as his tongue swept inside her mouth. He made a gruff little sound in the back of his throat in response.

It was only supposed to be a quick kiss, a light kiss. He just wanted to taste her lips and then he would go. But as soon as he felt her body against his, her mouth moving under his, he was caught. He suddenly wanted a lot more from her than just a kiss. A conscience he didn't even know he still possessed began to whisper a protest. He couldn't do this to her. She couldn't have anything to do with him. He was like a disease. Any life he touched became infected with the disease he carried that was violence, betrayal and death. He pulled his mouth away from hers and stepped back, brushing away her clinging arms.

They both were breathing harshly. He took delight in the drugged, pleased look in her eyes but pushed the feeling back hard. This had to stop. What was more, this had to never happen again.

"I killed your daughter." His voice was cold but his face was still flushed, his breathing still unsteady.

Her mouth formed a soundless 'O' as all the air disappeared from her lungs. She paled and tried to take in a breath, only succeeding in gasping helplessly.

"I helped arrange your daughter's kidnapping. It was me." He watched comprehension slowly come over her face and felt sick at the sudden coldness in those clear eyes. But he had to finish, he had to tell her everything so she would be strong enough to keep him away from her. He obviously couldn't be strong enough for both of them or he never would have kissed her. And he couldn't let his sickness infect her calm little life.

"That's why Dana hates me. That's why I waited for her with my gun drawn. She doesn't know but she suspects."

Maggie was busy trying to breathe. Just breathe. He had kissed her. And she liked it. She took in a shuddering breath. Oh, God.

"Get out," she whispered. "Get out before I kill you myself." She watched with cold dead eyes as he took a step back and held out his hand, his eyes suddenly pleading.

"Maggie, I--"

"Get out!" she screamed and didn't recognize the shrill insanity in that voice. She looked around for something to throw but abruptly remembered this wasn't her house. It was Dana's. She couldn't trash her daughter's house.

She looked at him again and his face had closed off, became as cold as her own felt.

"Get out," she whispered.

He nodded once, sharply then turned on his heel and headed for the door. He opened it but paused.

"I'm sorry, Maggie." The yearning regret in his voice was a tangible presence as it vibrated into the silence.

Then he was out the door and gone.

Maggie slowly crumpled to the floor, wrapped her arms around her knees and began to cry.