Post by Maggie Lefebvre on Apr 9, 2015 5:04:13 GMT
This is one version of Maggie's future, assuming headcanon happens, and other things do not.
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0800 Hours
Tyringham, Massachusettes
These days, life wasn't always pretty for Maggie, who now went by the name of Maddie Calcagnini-Witsec weren't the most brilliant bunch, and American's were worse. It was only for "awhile," Mike had said, that they'd be under. It was due to his job, and Maggie knew how serious it was. She had been, following her discharge from the Marine Nationale, and prior to today, employed by INTERPOL. It was because of this that she and Mike, now Nicos, whose service to the the CIA was on hold, were in this position to begin with. She had tangled with a VERY bad man-a supposed art smuggler that Maggie had learnt was also smuggling women and teenaged girls to be used as sex slaves. AND he hadn't been happy when Maggie and Mike had come to arrest him. Needless to say, while they were trying him, the man had put out a bounty for BOTH of them, and Mike had pulled strings and gotten them safe-for now. And NOW...now was breakfast.
She turned to her side, rolling herself up gently. She and Mike were expecting their third(!) child. Well, technically it was their second together, as Gail wasn't hers, but from Mike's first marriage. She liked to pretend that Gail WAS hers, though. And oddly, they looked similarly, blonde hair and blue eyes, though Gail was mostly Mike. She had his nose and eyes, and the rest of her features Maggie assumed had been Tahlia's. Maggie hadn't ever met the woman-and would not-as she was gone, killed in the field. She had been a CIA operative, like Mike. Maggie still had trouble reconciling in her head how he could be in love with someone like THAT-Tahlia was everything she was NOT-calm, brilliant, and...together. Maggie was still a mess, though she was generally even tempered, so that was something. While she knew initally that Mike had been drawn to her for the same reasons ANY man was, now he loved her. He HAD to, to put up with her. Not that she TRIED to be a problem, she just had a penchant for attracting danger. She placed her feet into the woolen, cat printed slippers by the bed and padded into the hallway. Her first stop was the nursery-the kids would be Irish twins-just about a year apart. Mikey was up, as usual, playing with toys with his big sister. Gail was ten now, and tried to help Maggie as much as she could. Maggie tried to make sure she stayed a kid.
Let's get some breakfast. Michele, she said, pronouncing it the French wayGet your socks, please. Don't get cold. She took the baby by his hand, and led them to the kitchen. She turned on the coffeepot, and looked at the time. 6 am. If Mike got up soon, they could eat as a family before work. If not, then she was stuck at home. She HATED that. What did witsec EXPECT?! A girl like her was NOT OK with sitting at home. Oh, sure, she got out a LITTLE bit during the day-took the baby to the park while Gail was at school, but it didn't fulfill her. She had TRIED getting involved in a parent's group, but the other women were b*tchy and had shunned her. The only other female who spoke to her that was her age was the wife of the local Sheriff, who KNEW they were witness protection. The woman told her that the other moms saw her as a threat...a pretty French girl was enough to send mere mortals atwitter or something. There was a time that Maggie WOULD have acted on that...but not now. Not when she was a wife...a MOTHER. She missed her OWN mother, actually, and Paris seemed SOO far away. It seemed lightyears..and Maggie had actually EXPERIENCED light-years.
She made a quick breakfast-sausage, eggs and toast. She herself couldn't handle the meat this far into her pregnancy-the smell ALONE was making her ill, but Mike would "die" if he didn't eat meat at least once a day. She put out the food, and just in time, as she saw Mike coming out, his hair mussed and his eyes still red from sleep, but he was smiling. He immedately came to HER, put a hand on her stomach and kissed her face. He poured himself some coffee and then sat down with the kids, and she followed behind him, sitting between him and the baby, with Gail across from her. She sthingyed some eggs to Mikey and made sure she was getting enough to sustain the little one. It was going to be a girl, but she and Mike couldn't decide on a name. She wanted Amelie, like her mother, but Mike wanted Sara, after HIS. They were still discussing it. They had told Gail, but figured Mikey was too young to understand.
They discussed the day ahead; Mike would drop Gail off at school while he went to "work"-his new day job was as a banker. It was believable enough-he was intelligent, and capable. Mom and son would clean up the house, and then do some shopping for the family. She finished her breakfast, cleaned up the baby, and got ready for her day out-she'd run errands first, because that took more time. Actually, it was the getting ready that took so long. She suited up, as she might if she were working. She pulled on a pair of tight leather maternity leggings. Over that went her belly band, a contraption that some GENIUS had invented, so she could STILL wear her tight leather pants, and STILL have them hold her pants up. Another plus was that it served as an EXCELLENT shirt extender. Maggie got VERY big with pregnancies-she'd gained forty pounds with Mikey and was already at the 30 mark, and she still had two months to go. She HAD borrowed some of Mike's shirts, until he complained that she was stretching them out. Of course, this had only served to annoy her to the point that she reminded him loudly, and with a slight edge of crazy in her vocie-that it was because of him that she was pregnant to begin with, that it took two to tango and all that. Finally, she'd broken down and expanded her maternity wardrobe and invested in three belly bands-one black, one white, and one "nude" that was maybe only nude for a person of mixed heritage. Today, she was going "stone-cold assissn"-she DID need to work, after all, and she'd been doing PI work. MOST of it around the Berkshires was serving cheating husbands with multi-million dollar divorce papers, but still. Some habits died hard, and she finished suiting up. On top of her belly band went a holster-don't get her started on the idea of a maternity holster, but interestingly, INTERPOL had a few. Hers was nylon, and she missed she slightly sexier, and far more comfortable leather ones, but she would be small again someday-she hoped. Into her holster went her .45. Finally, she pulled on a silver maternity sweater-Maggie was convinced that whomever had designed most maternity clothing was either a man or had never been pregnant, because they weren't long enough. Plus, WHY DID THEY ALL HAVE PETER PAN COLLARS?! What was she, five?! With a deeply disgusted sigh, she tied the sash of the sweater behind her, secured her long, now brown, hair into half-up ponytail and then stepped into boots. Into her boots went a knife-just in case-and then it was time to prepare a 9-month-old baby for the day. THAT meant a onsie, and being Maggie, the onsie was pale blue cashmere-only the best for HER children-and on top of THAT went a matching blue bunting, a hat, and then into the papoose carrier she used to talk Mikey out. Since they lived close to town, she wouldn't drive to her "office"-which was really an alcove in the back of the local "business" mall. Nouveau-Riche Americans. Oh, well, at least the pay was good and she could take Mikey with her-she didn't trust American preschools to teach her child. FInally, she strapped the papoose carrier to her back, found her purse, hat and briefcase, and made the short trek to downtown-the three blocks that made up the biggest city in the Hamptons. As she walked, she made a list of the things she needed to do-file the Peterson paperwork, write some emails-she was still in touch with some of the girls she'd gone to Uni with-and the shopping for dinner. Salmon sounded nice. With some rice. She wished for some wine-French doctors allowed it in the third trimester, but her American doctor did not. Mike wasn't exactly excited about the idea, either, and so iced juicy tea would have to suffice. She noted with a strange sort of feeling that the lists she made these days were quite a bit different than the lists she USED to make, even two years ago. Now, she made her lists keeping in mind budgets, the health of her family, and how she felt that day, while before her lists were mostly about which bag she was going to purchase that month, or which guy she should call and pretend to be interested again if for nothing more than a quick go. She'd finally gotten Mike on her hook after a long, drawn out case in Italy where he'd nearly died-and she herself had come pretty close. There was nothing like getting shot together that made ones romance either superstrong or fall apart pretty damn fast. She'd been a TINY bit recicent to actually MARRY him at first-she was a TERRIBLE wife-not so much in the wife sense of the word, but in the "housewife" sense. She had little interest in homemaking, less in cookery, and even less in laundry. However, she was very much in love with Mike, and while he was thirty years older than she-not that she cared, but her mum had-the phyiscal part was VERY strong, and Mike was an excellent husband, tolerant and a provider. While she was headstrong and feckless, he was patient and steady. The one thing she DID manage to do well at, surprisingly enough, was motherhood. Maggie had taken to Gail instantly, and when she became pregnant with Mikey, it was almost as if she was now a woman possessed...she had taken a desk job at INTERPOL, which would keep her both safe and stateside (and also incredibly bored), bought life insurance and an actual holster. The pregnancy itself had been hell-she was SICK-gestational diabetes, trouble at first gaining weight from intense morning sickness, and then the baby had come late...she was on bed rest the last trimester-nearly driving herself, her mother and Mike to committ murder/suicide. During the labor, she'd had to have an emergency C-section, as the baby had gotten his cord wrapped around himself. It had taken several moments of panic for her-and yelling at doctors, vowing the full force of every governmental agency and police force in the world she could think of-before they'd heard the lusty, loud cry of a baby, and that had been IT-she was now irrevocable different-she was someone's MOTHER and she knew then that she could never be as she was before...she didn't WANT to be. Now, she kissed the little blonde head that peeked out from the papoose as she settled in at her desk.
Work only took two hours, and then it was time to shop. Normally, she'd go home to get her car, but she was feeling well today, so she ambled to the market, purchased a full pound of mind-bogglingly-expensive fish-WHY she couldn't get Mike to move to either Europe or the West Coast was STILL something of contention between them, but whatever. Maybe now he'd understand. That, a dozen cookies, and a package of baby rice cereal, and her "work" day was done. Now to get on with the Mom part of her day.
She headed home, ran the vaccuum, and did some more setting up in the new nursery. She hoped that she wouldn't have to raise her children in WITSEC, but she had no choice at the moment. She knew that being pregnant during this time was a bit of a personal-safety plus, as well-the men that were hunting her and them-they were bad men, but they seemed to have some sort of code of honor-never kill a woman, a child, or a woman with child. Problem was that she was DONE with pregnancy after this-it took too much out of her, and while she was less ill this time around, it was still enough. She took a nap when Mikey did, and then got up in time to get Gail off the bus, and start dinner. Mike was heading out this weekend for "work-" likely some off the books CIA spook stuff that she HATED-and so she wanted one last sit down before he left. She just knew that if he didn't take over the directorship SOON, she was going to be a widow. Even if by her own hand. He kept promising it was his "last" case, but she knew, deep down, that there would never BE a "last" case until he was INDEED dead. It was different for men than for women, she supposed, but she kind of understood. She was also a little jealous-she missed field work, too. At least this would be his last case for AWHILE-he WAS around for the actual deliveries, as she did need someone to direct her pain and anger at.
FInally, it was dinner time, and they sat down again, similarly to breakfast-she fed the baby while she ate, too, and listened to Gail tell them about school. She was in the fifth grade, and had just discovered boys...at least to the extent that she was NOTICING them. It caused Maggie much glee that Mike, usually cold and gruff to most people except her and the family-was getting a big shot of reality. She just worried for the boys as Gail got older and they started coming around for actual dates. THAT was going to be a sight to behold. After dinner, she and Mike cleaned the kitchen, and then the family settled in to watch some TV before they went to bed...only to do it again the next day. Maggie no longer cared that she was "boring"-she was. Now she just cared that she was happy-she was.
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0800 Hours
Tyringham, Massachusettes
These days, life wasn't always pretty for Maggie, who now went by the name of Maddie Calcagnini-Witsec weren't the most brilliant bunch, and American's were worse. It was only for "awhile," Mike had said, that they'd be under. It was due to his job, and Maggie knew how serious it was. She had been, following her discharge from the Marine Nationale, and prior to today, employed by INTERPOL. It was because of this that she and Mike, now Nicos, whose service to the the CIA was on hold, were in this position to begin with. She had tangled with a VERY bad man-a supposed art smuggler that Maggie had learnt was also smuggling women and teenaged girls to be used as sex slaves. AND he hadn't been happy when Maggie and Mike had come to arrest him. Needless to say, while they were trying him, the man had put out a bounty for BOTH of them, and Mike had pulled strings and gotten them safe-for now. And NOW...now was breakfast.
She turned to her side, rolling herself up gently. She and Mike were expecting their third(!) child. Well, technically it was their second together, as Gail wasn't hers, but from Mike's first marriage. She liked to pretend that Gail WAS hers, though. And oddly, they looked similarly, blonde hair and blue eyes, though Gail was mostly Mike. She had his nose and eyes, and the rest of her features Maggie assumed had been Tahlia's. Maggie hadn't ever met the woman-and would not-as she was gone, killed in the field. She had been a CIA operative, like Mike. Maggie still had trouble reconciling in her head how he could be in love with someone like THAT-Tahlia was everything she was NOT-calm, brilliant, and...together. Maggie was still a mess, though she was generally even tempered, so that was something. While she knew initally that Mike had been drawn to her for the same reasons ANY man was, now he loved her. He HAD to, to put up with her. Not that she TRIED to be a problem, she just had a penchant for attracting danger. She placed her feet into the woolen, cat printed slippers by the bed and padded into the hallway. Her first stop was the nursery-the kids would be Irish twins-just about a year apart. Mikey was up, as usual, playing with toys with his big sister. Gail was ten now, and tried to help Maggie as much as she could. Maggie tried to make sure she stayed a kid.
Let's get some breakfast. Michele, she said, pronouncing it the French wayGet your socks, please. Don't get cold. She took the baby by his hand, and led them to the kitchen. She turned on the coffeepot, and looked at the time. 6 am. If Mike got up soon, they could eat as a family before work. If not, then she was stuck at home. She HATED that. What did witsec EXPECT?! A girl like her was NOT OK with sitting at home. Oh, sure, she got out a LITTLE bit during the day-took the baby to the park while Gail was at school, but it didn't fulfill her. She had TRIED getting involved in a parent's group, but the other women were b*tchy and had shunned her. The only other female who spoke to her that was her age was the wife of the local Sheriff, who KNEW they were witness protection. The woman told her that the other moms saw her as a threat...a pretty French girl was enough to send mere mortals atwitter or something. There was a time that Maggie WOULD have acted on that...but not now. Not when she was a wife...a MOTHER. She missed her OWN mother, actually, and Paris seemed SOO far away. It seemed lightyears..and Maggie had actually EXPERIENCED light-years.
She made a quick breakfast-sausage, eggs and toast. She herself couldn't handle the meat this far into her pregnancy-the smell ALONE was making her ill, but Mike would "die" if he didn't eat meat at least once a day. She put out the food, and just in time, as she saw Mike coming out, his hair mussed and his eyes still red from sleep, but he was smiling. He immedately came to HER, put a hand on her stomach and kissed her face. He poured himself some coffee and then sat down with the kids, and she followed behind him, sitting between him and the baby, with Gail across from her. She sthingyed some eggs to Mikey and made sure she was getting enough to sustain the little one. It was going to be a girl, but she and Mike couldn't decide on a name. She wanted Amelie, like her mother, but Mike wanted Sara, after HIS. They were still discussing it. They had told Gail, but figured Mikey was too young to understand.
They discussed the day ahead; Mike would drop Gail off at school while he went to "work"-his new day job was as a banker. It was believable enough-he was intelligent, and capable. Mom and son would clean up the house, and then do some shopping for the family. She finished her breakfast, cleaned up the baby, and got ready for her day out-she'd run errands first, because that took more time. Actually, it was the getting ready that took so long. She suited up, as she might if she were working. She pulled on a pair of tight leather maternity leggings. Over that went her belly band, a contraption that some GENIUS had invented, so she could STILL wear her tight leather pants, and STILL have them hold her pants up. Another plus was that it served as an EXCELLENT shirt extender. Maggie got VERY big with pregnancies-she'd gained forty pounds with Mikey and was already at the 30 mark, and she still had two months to go. She HAD borrowed some of Mike's shirts, until he complained that she was stretching them out. Of course, this had only served to annoy her to the point that she reminded him loudly, and with a slight edge of crazy in her vocie-that it was because of him that she was pregnant to begin with, that it took two to tango and all that. Finally, she'd broken down and expanded her maternity wardrobe and invested in three belly bands-one black, one white, and one "nude" that was maybe only nude for a person of mixed heritage. Today, she was going "stone-cold assissn"-she DID need to work, after all, and she'd been doing PI work. MOST of it around the Berkshires was serving cheating husbands with multi-million dollar divorce papers, but still. Some habits died hard, and she finished suiting up. On top of her belly band went a holster-don't get her started on the idea of a maternity holster, but interestingly, INTERPOL had a few. Hers was nylon, and she missed she slightly sexier, and far more comfortable leather ones, but she would be small again someday-she hoped. Into her holster went her .45. Finally, she pulled on a silver maternity sweater-Maggie was convinced that whomever had designed most maternity clothing was either a man or had never been pregnant, because they weren't long enough. Plus, WHY DID THEY ALL HAVE PETER PAN COLLARS?! What was she, five?! With a deeply disgusted sigh, she tied the sash of the sweater behind her, secured her long, now brown, hair into half-up ponytail and then stepped into boots. Into her boots went a knife-just in case-and then it was time to prepare a 9-month-old baby for the day. THAT meant a onsie, and being Maggie, the onsie was pale blue cashmere-only the best for HER children-and on top of THAT went a matching blue bunting, a hat, and then into the papoose carrier she used to talk Mikey out. Since they lived close to town, she wouldn't drive to her "office"-which was really an alcove in the back of the local "business" mall. Nouveau-Riche Americans. Oh, well, at least the pay was good and she could take Mikey with her-she didn't trust American preschools to teach her child. FInally, she strapped the papoose carrier to her back, found her purse, hat and briefcase, and made the short trek to downtown-the three blocks that made up the biggest city in the Hamptons. As she walked, she made a list of the things she needed to do-file the Peterson paperwork, write some emails-she was still in touch with some of the girls she'd gone to Uni with-and the shopping for dinner. Salmon sounded nice. With some rice. She wished for some wine-French doctors allowed it in the third trimester, but her American doctor did not. Mike wasn't exactly excited about the idea, either, and so iced juicy tea would have to suffice. She noted with a strange sort of feeling that the lists she made these days were quite a bit different than the lists she USED to make, even two years ago. Now, she made her lists keeping in mind budgets, the health of her family, and how she felt that day, while before her lists were mostly about which bag she was going to purchase that month, or which guy she should call and pretend to be interested again if for nothing more than a quick go. She'd finally gotten Mike on her hook after a long, drawn out case in Italy where he'd nearly died-and she herself had come pretty close. There was nothing like getting shot together that made ones romance either superstrong or fall apart pretty damn fast. She'd been a TINY bit recicent to actually MARRY him at first-she was a TERRIBLE wife-not so much in the wife sense of the word, but in the "housewife" sense. She had little interest in homemaking, less in cookery, and even less in laundry. However, she was very much in love with Mike, and while he was thirty years older than she-not that she cared, but her mum had-the phyiscal part was VERY strong, and Mike was an excellent husband, tolerant and a provider. While she was headstrong and feckless, he was patient and steady. The one thing she DID manage to do well at, surprisingly enough, was motherhood. Maggie had taken to Gail instantly, and when she became pregnant with Mikey, it was almost as if she was now a woman possessed...she had taken a desk job at INTERPOL, which would keep her both safe and stateside (and also incredibly bored), bought life insurance and an actual holster. The pregnancy itself had been hell-she was SICK-gestational diabetes, trouble at first gaining weight from intense morning sickness, and then the baby had come late...she was on bed rest the last trimester-nearly driving herself, her mother and Mike to committ murder/suicide. During the labor, she'd had to have an emergency C-section, as the baby had gotten his cord wrapped around himself. It had taken several moments of panic for her-and yelling at doctors, vowing the full force of every governmental agency and police force in the world she could think of-before they'd heard the lusty, loud cry of a baby, and that had been IT-she was now irrevocable different-she was someone's MOTHER and she knew then that she could never be as she was before...she didn't WANT to be. Now, she kissed the little blonde head that peeked out from the papoose as she settled in at her desk.
Work only took two hours, and then it was time to shop. Normally, she'd go home to get her car, but she was feeling well today, so she ambled to the market, purchased a full pound of mind-bogglingly-expensive fish-WHY she couldn't get Mike to move to either Europe or the West Coast was STILL something of contention between them, but whatever. Maybe now he'd understand. That, a dozen cookies, and a package of baby rice cereal, and her "work" day was done. Now to get on with the Mom part of her day.
She headed home, ran the vaccuum, and did some more setting up in the new nursery. She hoped that she wouldn't have to raise her children in WITSEC, but she had no choice at the moment. She knew that being pregnant during this time was a bit of a personal-safety plus, as well-the men that were hunting her and them-they were bad men, but they seemed to have some sort of code of honor-never kill a woman, a child, or a woman with child. Problem was that she was DONE with pregnancy after this-it took too much out of her, and while she was less ill this time around, it was still enough. She took a nap when Mikey did, and then got up in time to get Gail off the bus, and start dinner. Mike was heading out this weekend for "work-" likely some off the books CIA spook stuff that she HATED-and so she wanted one last sit down before he left. She just knew that if he didn't take over the directorship SOON, she was going to be a widow. Even if by her own hand. He kept promising it was his "last" case, but she knew, deep down, that there would never BE a "last" case until he was INDEED dead. It was different for men than for women, she supposed, but she kind of understood. She was also a little jealous-she missed field work, too. At least this would be his last case for AWHILE-he WAS around for the actual deliveries, as she did need someone to direct her pain and anger at.
FInally, it was dinner time, and they sat down again, similarly to breakfast-she fed the baby while she ate, too, and listened to Gail tell them about school. She was in the fifth grade, and had just discovered boys...at least to the extent that she was NOTICING them. It caused Maggie much glee that Mike, usually cold and gruff to most people except her and the family-was getting a big shot of reality. She just worried for the boys as Gail got older and they started coming around for actual dates. THAT was going to be a sight to behold. After dinner, she and Mike cleaned the kitchen, and then the family settled in to watch some TV before they went to bed...only to do it again the next day. Maggie no longer cared that she was "boring"-she was. Now she just cared that she was happy-she was.
