Get Me To The Church On Time (Or, As The Files Turn) By Anna Otto and Danielle Leigh Email: annaotto1@aol.com & oldviolin7@aol.com Parody on Priorities series, found at http://www.geocities.com/~annaotto Rating: Hmmm... Classification: Err... Disclaimer: Umm... Summary: Maternal feelings are nothing to joke about, you hear? Archive: really? You really want to? Are you sure? Think twice... Thanks go to Meredith for the second title, and to everyone else who suggested what exactly should happen in the sequel(s) to Priorities. This is to you. It was her fifty-second attempt to get the baby. Frankly, she was growing tired of it. But something, something deep and primal and human, spurred her on, and made her try over and over again. Her nails were broken from digging through the walls. Her hair was disheveled from the constant gusts of wind. But with energy that she never thought she possessed, she gritted her teeth and rolled herself onto the window ledge, her aching body screaming for rest. Her heart beating in her throat, she leaned against the frosted glass of the windowpane. Illuminated by only a small lamp, she could see the tall gray-haired man holding her son, her dear child, in his arms. Diana cringed at the expression of tenderness on the Smoking Man's face. Somehow, kindness and love, emotions that became anyone else, seemed alien to him. A brush of an obscene artist painted his smile. His blue eyes watered visibly as he touched the baby's cheek. She could smell the pale, dusty talcum powder on the child's cheek and she touched the cold glass. The man's long pale fingers brushed an excess of it away and she closed her eyes. The image of those hands on her child... Ever since she noticed the little adorable horns sticking out of her son's tiny head, the smoldering black eyes in the pale face, and the bloody-red lips that smiled cruelly while he emitted a healthy baby scream, she knew that her heart was lost. But apparently, Diana wasn't the only one who took the liking to the precious angelic gift that was brought to her by forces beyond this world. The Smoking Man refused to let go of the baby. She knew that there were no lengths to which she would not sink to get her child back. Be it blackmail, murder, or sex with psychotic FBI Agents. She would seduce the devil himself if she had to. Diana smiled dreamily at the thought. Oh, but the Prince of Darkness would be mighty pleased when she finally presented the child to him. It would be her indictment into the world that she'd always longed to inhabit. If only she had strength enough left to break through this glass pane. If only the old sclerotic idiot would finally just forget this senile infatuation with the boy who he dreamed was his son. If only she had remembered where she had put her lovely hunting rifle. Dammit! She had left it at Fox's. If he used it for shooting beer cans she was going to rip his pretty pointed head off. She took a deep breath and got herself under control. No matter, she told herself. It was time. Time for the reckoning... "Yeeeyaw!!!" With a horrible screech, she dove through the window. The Smoking Man screamed in fear, and Diana was gratified to hear it. Finally, finally he was afraid. Bloodied and dirty, she plunged for the baby in his arms - then gasped in horror. "What have you done?" she cried. "What have you done to my lovely child? What is this abomination?" From the bowels of gauze and silk, blue cerulean eyes stared at her, and perfect blonde curls framed a beautiful face of an angel. Pink lips revealed a smile, and a tiny nose was just as cute as a button. The thing even had wings, she was sure of it. The Smoking Man watched, gasping painfully and clutching at his heart, as she frantically rubbed at the child's cheeks. It wasn't real. This monster wasn't her baby! Diana tugged on a lock of hair, and the baby wailed brutally in her ear. "Never underestimate the power of the Mulder family genome," the Smoking Man gargled, a bit of spit frothing from his lips. "Where is my real baby?" she screamed, throwing this one away. The cute thing bounced off the floor like it was rubber. And that's all it was to her - rubber. Plastic. A piece of human garbage to be disposed of. Where was her gorgeous little devil, the child with horns who she longed for all these long, long weeks? The blue, fishy eyes of the man stared at her balefully, his chest rising and falling like a seesaw. She walked over to him and slowly undid his tie, letting her long nails scrape the skin of his neck. He appreciatively didn't die on her, as she allowed for more comfortable breathing. She even undid his top button of his dress shirt. "I want my child," her voice rose like a banshee's. "You will tell me everything," she yanked his jacket off and ripped the shirt open. "You forgot your primary responsibilities. We had to fire you. Then you stole my angel from me. Now I will have to fry you." Diana threw the Smoking Man on the bed and climbed on top of him, like an Amazon warrior goddess. With her bare hands and through power imbued to her by greater and darker forces than this sad sap bellow her, she allowed his flesh to sizzle from her touch. The smell was something awful and she made a mental note to find out what dry cleaner Fox used. Sobbing, the pale, useless wreck of a man beneath her screamed...and screamed and screamed, until Diana was forced to cover her ears. "You know," she whispered, cringing, still trying to maintain the seductive atmosphere, "I would let you go and you would have to stop squirming if you just told me what you did to my son." The Smoking Man stopped his wail for a moment and stared at her in rising fear. "Really?" he moaned weakly. "All right - he is being christened as we speak. Mulder and Scully adopted him." "They what???" she cried in horror. "Well, I will die soon. I'm old, tired, and useless." he wept. "At least they will be good parents who will live on and give him love and happiness." "You don't know what you've just done," Diana cast a terrible look at him. "Don't move." She tied him up and left him for dead. Surely, no one would come to visit him here anymore. Not after she was done with those bastards who were going to hurt her baby. * * * Mulder tugged at his red bow tie, coughed and flushed when the priest and Scully shot him dirty looks. Scully just ignored him and returned her loving gaze to the child in her arms. "Isn't he just the most precious thing you have ever seen? Aren't you? Aren't you precious?" Mulder fought the rising tide of his breakfast and concentrated on the black bible in the priest's hands. Everything was going to be fine. So what if the kid had horns...he could overlook a little genetic blundering. And so what if his drool was sticky and red, ruining every article of clothing Mulder has ever had, forcing him to go grocery shopping in Bermuda shorts and a tie-die tee shirt. (Hence the borrowed red bow tie; Scully had insisted on formal wear.) And so what if they couldn't get cable with the kid around...something about his magnetic energy, Scully had cooed. Whatever. Mulder would have sold his soul for porn at this moment. Even soft-core porn on Showtime. Wearily, he wondered would Scully ever put out? Didn't playing Daddy give him certain inalienable rights? Like the right to take Mommy, throw her down on the nearest sturdy object and resolve certain painful long-denied tensions? He must not have been paying attention because Scully pinched him on the arm, *hard*. "Ow," he whined. Not that pain was always bad...in fact between two (or more) consenting adults-- "Shut up, Mulder." Right. The priest raised his eyes upward and took on a beatific expression. The ceremony began, and the kid squirmed and smiled that nasty little smile of his that made Mulder feel as if he was undressing everyone in the room and having the time of his life which really couldn't be said for his father. His father. The moment he saw the baby, he just knew - instantly - that he was the one responsible for bringing that little pervert into the world. And Scully simply couldn't care less whose baby it was or why it suddenly fell into their arms. The adoption was surprisingly easy to arrange. And every day, the Smoking Man phoned, offering his services as a baby-sitter at the reduced rate. When he came to visit, he appeared frighteningly subdued, and even made a show of throwing away his cigarettes. His visits were a rather terrifying procedure to endure. He watched Scully and the Smoking Man chat about the kid's charming idiosyncrasies, his diapers, what formula the little brat should have. Mustn't upset little precious' delicate little stomach. And he wasn't sure what was worse: watching Scully give junior a little peck on the ridged, black and brittle forehead or her thankful hug to the other man for his tireless service. He was even so kind as to lend Mulder a suit and tie for the occasion. That bastard of an adoption agent. Without whom none of this could have been possible. Something Mulder contemplated every time he cleaned his service weapon. He wondered where the old thug was now. He would have thought that the Smoking Man would actually christen the baby himself if he were allowed to. Mulder shuddered at the thought. There were enough nightmares in his life already - he didn't need to imagine yet another one. The baby gurgled happily and gave the priest an evil eye. The man, nonplused, reached for the holy water and prepared to pour it on the child, when there was a horrifying scream, and the crowd that collected in the church scattered in fear. "Stop! Stop now!" the voice was hardly recognizable, but Mulder could feel the old tingle upon hearing it. Humbly, Mulder thanked God for the interruption. Discounting one negligible incident during a bout of sex in which he had thanked the great Good Lord for his infinite wisdom, it was the first time Mulder saw fit to believe in a higher authority. Furious, Scully had whirled around, ready to put a serious hurt on anyone who dared disturb this momentous occasion. "You bitch." Mulder closed his eyes. Don't let it be Diana...don't let it be Diana. I will build several churches in your honor, I will give up the spice channel, I will follow Skinner's orders. Please, God? Are you hearing me? "Diana," Scully screeched. Of course. He wondered why he kept trying. Scully's face transformed horribly. Now, she looked like she actually gave birth to this little thing with horns in her arms. Crushing the boy to her chest, she squared off with the wild-looking woman who extended her claws, trying to rip the child away from her. "He is mine!" Diana squealed, looking tenderly at the baby. "We have the official papers!" Scully reciprocated. Diana let a slow burning smile cross her face. Mulder watched it and swallowed painfully. "Scully," he whispered. Scully ignored him. He had seen that smile before. Oh, yes indeedio, he had seen that smile before. "Really," Diana said, her eyes amused. Scully's face grew redder. "Yes!" Mulder coughed. "Uh, Scully?" "Shut up, Mulder," she hissed. Right. Diana continued to smile as smoke started to flame from the inside of Scully's suit lapel. Horrified Scully dropped the baby on the floor with a terrible shriek and ripped a burning document from her suit. Glumly, Mulder watched her stomp on the burning paper. "I knew that was going to happen," he sighed. Diana triumphantly retrieved her child from the floor, only slightly worse for wear. "My son," she said. "My precious boy." Surprisingly (or not) a spark from the fire had caught on Scully's hair to keep her occupied while Diana made an escape. She flung the child over her shoulder, like a sack of grain and retreated. The baby smiled at Mulder, his red wolf-like eyes searing his soul. Mulder kept one eye on the child and one on Scully--er. Well, okay, he kept his eye on the cloud of smoke surrounding Scully. He was almost sure the child winked at him. Mulder shuddered. And returned his full attention to Scully. "Stop, drop, and roll, Scully," he informed her in a helpful tone. The End Feedback makes the Files turn. annaotto1@aol.com, oldviolin7@aol.com Take Me To Your Leader http://www.geocities.com/~annaotto P.S. From Anna: I love Kyle... this isn't about Kyle.