Title: A Perfect Family

Author: Rachel Ehrentreu (FirePhile@aol.com)

Rating: R

Classification: SH

Summary: Parody - why M&S should not have kids.

Disclaimer: Not mine, belong to 1013, CC&CO, FOX Television

Warnings: Contains M/S Married, Slash, S/O and M/O...do not read if this offends you<g>

Second Disclaimer: No offense is meant to any writers of M/S Married or with Children fic. This is just a product of my sick and twisted mind.

Dana and Fox Mulder's House

June 5, 2017

8:25 PM

"Samantha, turn down that music and get over here this instant!" Dana

Scully-Mulder yelled from the bottom of the stairs.

"I'll be down in a minute!" Samantha yelled back, muttering something else under her

breath.

"Okay, you'd better!" Scully moved into the living room and sat on the

couch. Fifty-five years old and she had to deal with this kind of crap.

She pulled out the latest CD of "TV Guide" and started reading.

"They're canceling my favorite show!" she wailed, throwing the CD to

the floor in disgust. She heard her daughter's loud footsteps.

"Okay mom, what *is* it?" Samantha asked angrily, chewing her gum.

Her mom looked at her. Samantha had dyed her natural auburn hair black and

was wearing a tight leather dress. She had changed her eye color to

purple and had stopped wearing her gold cross years ago.

Scully sighed. "I just got a call from a place, somewhere called

'Pleasure Shack'"

"Yeah, and?" Tapping a black booted foot.

"What are you doing?"

"What do you mean what am I doing?"

"You're going to college in the fall!" Scully replied angrily.

"Says you. I *hate* school, Mom. This job pays a lot of money."

"No daughter of mine is going to be a stripper."

"An exotic dancer, Mom - I don't expect you to understand anyway!"

"You don't understand -- you're going to college and then when you

come back you're taking over the X-Files!" Scully got up and stood

right next to her daughter.

"X-Files this, X-Files that. Did it ever occur to you that I have

absolutely NO interest in the FBI or this stupid paranormal crap?"

Samantha gestured towards the file cabinets which lined the living

room.

"Don't you talk that way to me, young lady. Now, we've planned this

since your birth. You *are* following in our footsteps."

"No! I'm sick of you controlling my life! I need to live my own life,

Mom!"

"Unearthing conspiracies is more important than gyrating in front of

drunken men night after night! There will be no more discussion!"

"You can't stop me."

"But your father will."

"What's dad gonna do? Tell me another story about all the times you

two have wound up in the hospital close to death? About your

abduction and cancer? Oh, that really makes me want to follow in your

footsteps." Samantha said sarcastically.

Scully could only glare at her daughter. Samantha grabbed a leather

jacket from the hook and walked towards the door.

"Where are you going? We're not done yet."

"To a friend's house." Samantha slammed the door loudly behind her.

A few seconds later Scully heard her daughter's motorcycle start up and

drive off.

"Ungrateful bitch." She snarled and sat back down.

"MOM! Emily took my new sweater!" A rallying cry from upstairs.

"MOM! Don't believe Mel! I didn't!" More feet plodding downstairs.

Melissa was fifteen and already starting to rebel. She had cut her

auburn hair very short and was looking very thin lately.

"See, look at the sweater, that's mine!" Mel screeched, reaching out to

grab it off her sister.

"Mom make her leave me alone. It's my sweater, remember how you bought

it for me?" Nine year old Emily defended herself, running away from

her sister.

"Give it back!"

"I didn't take it!"

Scully massaged her temples. "Both of you, up to your rooms, now!"

"But Mom..." two whining voices at once.

"NOW!"

Mom in a bad mood was no one to take chances with - both kids had

heard about how she'd shot Dad once. And they'd all been brought up

on stories of her heroism and greatness in the FBI. "Awright...." Mel

said and they both ran upstairs.

"Why did I ever have children?" Scully asked aloud as she walked over

the liquor cabinet, poured herself a drink and gulped it down. <Seems I

drink more and more these days>, she thought as she gulped down

another shot.

11:00 PM

The front door opened. Scully opened her eyes and sat up. <Drinking

yourself to sleep is not a good idea>, she thought absently. Then she

heard footsteps and was on full alert. <Someone's in the house>....

"Freeze!" She grabbed her gun off the coffee table and held it on the

intruder.

"Mom, it's me."

Scully lowered her gun. "Bill, how many times must I tell you to knock

before you enter?"

"Sorry -- I forgot." Bill grinned at her, a lopsided odd grin. He

giggled.

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing..."

"Have you been doing drugs again?"

"No, of course not. I know what happened the last time. Now I'm

tired." He started off towards the stairs.

"What is that thing in your nose?"

"Oh, this? A nose stud. Andrew said it looked cool."

Scully nodded reluctantly. She didn't have the strength for this

conversation right now. Bill went upstairs, sighing in relief.

The phone rang. Scully reached to answer it. "Hello?"

"This is Andrew, is there?" A male voice asked.

"Yeah, he just got in." She was about to yell upstairs when her son

answered the phone on his own.

"Got it mom!" He called. She hung up.

Upstairs, Bill sprawled out on his bed. "Hey," he said, in a breathy

voice.

"I had fun tonight."

"Yeah, me too." Bill let out a low throaty laugh. He ran a hand

through his short spiky dyed blonde hair. "Let me turn on the video, ah

much better." He licked his lips and laughed again.

"Mmm...definitely better." Andrew Krycek smiled seductively and

moved closer to the video screen. "I wish I was there right now."

"Oooh me too -- touch me...touch me Andy." Bill whimpered,

removing his T-shirt and kicking off his boots.

"Have I ever told you how beautiful you are?" Andrew answered.

"Yes...I need you Andy..." Bill whimpered again. "Need to feel your

mouth on me..." He moved his hand down his chest.

"Unbutton your jeans for me...slowly..." Andrew whispered, his own

hand traveling down towards his pants.

"Yes," Bill hissed, unbuttoning his jeans slowly. "I'm so hard for you

Andy..."

"Me too Billy...God me too...." Andrew whispered, removing his own

jeans.

Meanwhile downstairs, Scully was taking her medication. "One pill for

Samantha, another for Mel..." She gulped them down with a few sips of

brandy and started to giggle.

After a few minutes she heard moaning from upstairs. <Someone's

hurting my son>, was the only thought she had as she bounded up the

stairs.

She pulled out her gun and stopped by the door. "1, 2, 3..." she

whispered and kicked the door open. "Leave my son...." she trailed off

when she saw the scene in front of her. Her son was pressed up against

the video screen...his hands...she closed the door and tried to convince

herself that did not just happen. Opening the door again she saw the

face of the person who her son was "talking" to, Andrew Krycek.

"What are you doing?" Scully asked her son who was trying

desperately to cover himself.

"Umm...Andy needed some help with some homework...." Bill trailed

off, that explanation sounded ridiculous even to him.

"Right, homework. And as for *you* Andrew. You're supposed to

marry Samantha and live in a white colonial with 2.5 kids and a dog

named Spot! You're ruining all my plans!" She wailed.

"But I barely know Samantha..." Andrew protested.

"Yes, but you would get to know her better and become her FBI partner

and risk your life for her and then one day declare your undying love.

Is this so hard to understand?"

"She's joined us before...." Andrew realized he'd said too much and

hung up.

It took a moment for Scully to realize what he'd just admitted. Her eyes

went wide and she walked out of the room, barely resisting the urge to

shoot her son.

The front door opened again. Fox Mulder entered, puffing on a

cigarette and coughing slightly. He tried to be silent, not wanting to

deal with his wife until it was absolutely necessary. His "schedule" had

kept him from seeing her for a few days already -- he was in no rush.

"Fox, is that you?"

He cursed silently. "How many times do I have to tell you -- don't call

me that," he sighed. "Go back to sleep."

"I wasn't sleeping." Scully appeared at the top of the stairs and walked

down to meet her husband. She was still beautiful and thin -- he just

couldn't stand her anymore.

"Sorry I'm late," he apologized, hanging up his trenchcoat. Work had

ended much earlier -- at least his official job.

"I called your office around six and your secretary said you had left.

Where have you been for the past six hours?"

"I'm tired. We'll talk tomorrow." He sighed inwardly and tried to get

past her.

"No, we'll talk now. Is that lipstick on your collar?" After the day that

she'd had -- she was just itching for someone to give her an excuse to go

off.

"You're imagining things, Dana." He tried to walk by her again --

unsuccessfully.

"I know that shade. It's your secretary isn't it?" She asked angrily. She

had been suspicious for a while. Fox had been acting strangely for a

long, long time.

"I'm an Assistant Director, Dana...do you really think I have that kind of

time? Now if you'll excuse me...."

"What do you have in your pocket?"

"What?"

She reached into his suit jacket's pocket and pulled out a vial. "What

the hell is this? More ova?" She looked at the label.

He tried to snatch it out of her hands -- they struggled over it for a few

moments. "Don't break it...." He said as he pried her fingers off the

vial.

"It's more of those oiliens isn't it?"

He nodded slowly.

"You brought oiliens into this house? Dammit, you know how dangerous

they are. What if Mel or Emily saw it and decided to drink the

contents? I will not let you kill our children with this poison!"

"Yeah you've done such a great job of raising them. I'm going out."

"Where?" Scully demanded, all wildfire and anger. Then, she decided to

change her technique. "I never get to see you anymore...I miss you,"

she purred. "What happened to us? When we were first married you

were so attentive...such a wonderful father to Bill and Samantha....

Now, you can't stand to be around us...." She reached out to caress his

face and he ducked.

"They're your children -- I don't know why you'd wish a life like we had

on anyone. What are you doing up so late? Don't you have an autopsy

to perform tomorrow?"

She glared at him, "They're *your* children too. They definitely have

your mental stability."

"What's that supposed to mean? You're the one who insisted on

naming them after us and wants them to follow in our footsteps. Jesus,

Dana, we're not happy! Maybe for a few short years when we were first

married, but other than that -- Not now! I'm sick of this argument!"

He turned and ran out the door, she heard his car starting and somehow

didn't really care all that much. "Fuck you!" she screamed at the door

and slammed it hard. How could she have ever married him?

Her hand reached for the phone and she dialed the number before she

could think. "Alex? Could you come over for a few minutes?"

A Few Minutes Later

A knock at the door.

"Dana, is something wrong?" Alex Krycek, one armed man, formerly

rat bastard who had turned to the good and now ran a stationery store

stood in the doorway.

She nodded and ran to him, "Oh Alex...," she wrapped her arms around

him and kissed him passionately. Their lips met like magnets. He ran

his hand through her hair and returned the kiss, deepening it, wanting

her.

"The couch," she whispered hoarsely, pulling his shirt out of his pants.

They wound up entangled in each other, body over body...matching

each other thrust for thrust. Totally lost in their own little world. She

moaned loudly, her body shaking, blood rushing in her ears. Okay, so

maybe he wasn't her husband, but he was a great substitute. What he

lacked in hands he made up for in many other areas.

"Mom, are you okay?" Bill called from the top of the stairs.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she gasped out, her legs wrapped tightly around

Krycek's waist.

"I heard a noise,"

"I was just eating chocolate."

"Oh, okay..." Bill went back to his room, not buying it for a second, but

if Mom could keep his secret, he could keep hers.

At The Strip Club

2:04 AM

Girls gyrated on stage to an old song from 1998. No matter how many

advances they made in technology -- there was still nothing to compare

with the real thing.

"You're dancing real close....you're makin' it hard for me...," pumped

out over the digital speakers.

A new dancer came on stage, dressed in tight leather and high heeled

shoes. Her eyes scanned the audience dangerously. The music

stopped.

"Here's a personal favorite of mine -- Leather Matrix," A man's

gravelly voice announced over the speakers.

A song started -- harsh with a fast beat -- by some new band or other.

The woman removed her long black gloves and the rest of her outfit in

a way which would make Gypsy Rose Lee seethe with envy.

Her movements were graceful -- yet incredibly sexual. Mulder found

himself unable to move. Each thrust of her hips seemed to nail him

further into his seat. His gaze followed her, taking in the curves....

She grinned and he knew she meant it for him.

As she walked off stage, her head tilted slightly to the right, she

winked at him. He wasn't mistaken -- she wanted him. He stood up,

only a bit woozy, and followed the woman past a few closed doors and

into a small room.

This was a commonplace experience. One night stands with

anonymous women seemed to be the norm for Mulder these days.

When he could have had all the sex he wanted from other women --

guilt-free no less, he had been too in love with Scully. All he had done

for hours was fantasize about how her lips would taste, her moans

would sound, her skin would flush.... After she became his lover --

wife -- other women ceased to exist. Now she was his chain and he

could barely stand to touch her.

Whether it was from guilt or lack of interest he couldn't say.

"Hey," a soft voice called to him. He turned towards the sound. Her

skin positively glowed, and her blonde hair was curled around her

shoulders. Deep blue eyes gazed at him with a mixture of arousal and

curiosity. Leather Matrix ("Real name Penelope but don't let that get

around") grinned and sat down on the oversized couch.

"I've seen you here a lot lately, and I know you've seen most of my

friends. Felt a bit left out." She lit a cigarette and leaned back.

"Oh, really?" He tried to look disinterested, but he knew where this

was going.

"Yes. It's not fair."

"Life is rarely fair."

"True, so why are you here so much?"

"My wife doesn't understand me."

"Well, that's original. You don't seem all that complex to me." She

took a drag of her cigarette.

"You don't know me. I have many layers."

"Hmmm I bet." She grinned, "I can help you remove some of those

layers...." She licked her rose-petal lips and reached for his jacket.

"Here's one...." Even if the man sitting next to her was in his 50s...she

still wanted him.

"Let me help you become less complicated," he whispered in return

and pulled open her robe.

"You're deeper than I am," she whispered and helped him become

simpler. Their lips clashed. Their bodies met....

There was a knock at the door.

"Go away," Penelope called angrily.

"Umm...my name is Susan and you're supposed to show me the

ropes...."

"I'm busy right now, come back later!"

"Your boss said that you were free and if you don't teach me how to do

this then you won't get that time off next week."

"Shit! Okay, be right there."

"I'm sorry, we'll have to finish this another time."

Mulder tried to hide his disappointment and quickly got redressed.

The door opened.

Susan stared at the man near Leather Matrix for a few moments. "Hi."

"Yes, we'll finish this later." He turned to Susan and looked her over,

"Perhaps you and I could st...." he suggested, leering, but then coughed

violently and turned a peculiar shade of green. "Samantha?"

"Umm...hi Dad. What are you doing here?"

He almost blushed, "Nothing, just investigating a lead, and yourself?"

"Practicing my undercover skills," Samantha answered finally.

"Yes, well, thank you for the time Ms. Johnson, I'll let you know if we

catch them," He turned towards Penelope.

"Yes, please do." They shook hands.

Mulder left the room and breathed a sigh of relief.

"Your Dad, huh?"

Samantha nodded, "He's always been a bit off. So where are the

costumes?" She didn't believe him for an instant but if he could let her

run her life, she'd let him run his.

END

Author's Note: "Dancing Real Close" doesn't belong to me, and neither does Gypsy Rose Lee, they belong to themselves or their respective groups :) Yes, this was wrong -- a big ball of wrong. I blame this on everyone who I showed the first scene to who egged me on to write more :) Send me feedback on this at FirePhile@aol.com.