Title: Too Good to be True
Author: mlb
Disclaimer: All characters in this story are the property of CC and 1013. No personal gain is intended. Please archive.
Rating: R (very bad language)
Category: V
Spoilers: Christmas Carol/Emily
Keywords: None

Summary: Tara Scully contemplates her life.


"Coming to bed soon, honey?" Tara Scully called sweetly to her husband.

"In a while" came Bill's response, "But go on to bed, sweetheart. Little Mothers need their sleep."

For a moment, Tara's smile slightly resembled a baring of teeth, but the tone of her voice never changed as she said, "I'll just check on the baby, then".

She glanced in at the baby, who was sleeping quietly in his crib.

Good, the brat was finally asleep. Then her gaze softened. "My million-dollar baby" she crooned. Bill was amused by her nickname for the baby, but it had a quite literal meaning for Tara. One million dollars, tucked away in a Swiss bank account: the price she had required from the Consortium to have Bill Scully's child.

They had protested the excessive amount, but she had been firm. "If I have to wreck my figure and listen to Scully bullshit about the wonders of fatherhood and pat my stomach for nine goddamn months, it's going to cost you" she had told them.

They had finally given in, but had not been pleased. Well tough titty, Tara thought as she began to pull off her clothes. She was a good operative especially for this mission, as the Consortium had no worries that she would either actually fall in love with Bill Scully or become attached to the kid, borne to increase Dana Scully's misery with her life in the X-files.

She pulled the flannel nursing nightgown over her head. It was a present from Bill; apparently, his concept of what new mothers should wear. That was ok for now, Tara thought, as she looked down in disgust at her belly, still rounded from pregnancy. She would get her figure back soon enough. Nursing the kid would help with that, which was the only reason she had agreed to it.

Not that her normal nightclothes were anything to get excited about as Bill favored sweet, ruffly nightgowns. Occasionally, Tara considered buying something with the nipples cut out and some crotchless panties, just to see what would happen. He'd have a stroke probably, she grinned to herself, which would be ok too.

Oh, well, only about one more year to go. Surely, by that time, Dana Scully would have left the X-Files. Tara having the kid, so soon after Dana's finding out about her own infertility, had been one more move in the game designed to send her over the edge.

As Tara had babbled on about the emptiness in her life before her pregnancy and about how she couldn't wait to have another baby, she had watched Dana closely. Bill and Maggie had been clueless, as usual, but Tara had known all about Dana's inability to have a child and had chosen her words carefully. Dana had turned paler and paler and had finally left the table. Tara couldn't blame her: she had almost made herself sick with her over-the-top performance, but with this bunch, you couldn't be subtle.

Tara had almost felt sorry for Dana, but she couldn't really understand the problem. If somebody had removed Tara's ability to have kids, she would have sent them a thank-you note and thrown a blow-job in for good measure.

Not that she would know how to give one of those anymore, Tara reflected as she climbed into the flower-comfortered four-poster and turned out the light.

Bill "Mr. Missionary" Scully would never dream of asking such a thing of his sweet little wife. She wasn't particularly eager to go down on Bill, but it did mean she couldn't ask him to return the favor. Tara didn't really feel that she was missing much: Bill that "06 Minute Man" probably wouldn't have any idea how to go about it.

She had to admit, it hadn't been that bad an assignment. Bill wasn't home much, and although the other navy wives irritated her, the opportunity to obtain blackmail fodder, classified information, or copies of interesting documents from their high-ranking husbands kept her skills sharp. She actually had another good reason to nurse the kid other than restoring her figure and staying in her "Little Mother" persona: cameras, bugs, or photocopies were easily concealed under her nursing shawls, which she wore when visiting other navy wives.

God forbid, they or their husbands see her bare breasts.

When Bill was home, it wasn't hard to manipulate him. She had even convinced him she was a virgin when they got married. "Don't hurt me" she had quavered on their wedding night, gazing at his erection with a look of fascinated terror, and he had done everything but beat on his chest and give a Tarzan yell. "Don't bore me to death" would have been a more accurate request.

Tara also didn't mind obeying his husbandly commands, since she arranged things so that he was usually telling her to do what she wanted to do anyway. On the rare occasions he wasn't, she consoled herself with the thought of the revenge she'd take at the end of the assignment. She'd probably leave the kid alive, since it could be useful for ransom/blackmail purposes. Bill Scully, however, was going to meet that God he worshipped so fervently, and he was going to know who had done it. Unlike the other murder she'd performed in the Scully family several years ago, this one wouldn't be mistaken for a heart attack.

The End


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