Dana Scully’s Diary – Chapter 1

Rating: PG-13

Keywords: Humor, “Bridget Jones’s Diary” crossover.

Archive: Sure! Please let me know where.

Disclaimer: The X-Files and related characters are the property of
CC, 1013, etc. “Bridget Jones’s Diary” is the property of Helen
Fielding and Penguin Books. No infringement intended.

Summary: Scully’s life in “Bridget Jones” style.

A/N: The format from this story is based heavily on “Bridget Jones’s
Diary.” The timeline is erratic and spins off into its own alternate
universe, Melissa and Ahab are still alive and OOC behavior runs
amok. It’s all in good fun. Just go with it!



1) Continue to overstock refrigerator with perishables, which
invariably will go bad while away on a case, resembling sixth
grade science project.

2) Spend extravagantly on designer suits which end up torn,
bloodied or covered in Mulder’s “alien goo.”

3) Fall for any of the following: Superiors, vampires posing as
sheriffs, government conspirators, firestarters, liver-eaters,
sideshow carnies, ex-boyfriends who body swap, men who talk
about themselves in third-person, genderbending weirdoes,
psychotics with tattoos or paranoid-delusional work partners.
Should be easy enough.

4) Be annoyed with Mom’s incessant matchmaking, or her complete
lack of insight thereof.

5) Worry about not having boyfriend, but instead realize that am
responsible, modern woman of substance with steady, respectable
and meaningful job and a license to practice medicine.

6) Bemoan the fact that said license is license to cut up dead
people, earning me strange looks in social situations when
subject comes up.


1) Shop bargain stores for business suits.

2) Stop feeling like chastised eight year-old upon leaving Skinner’s

3) Get in touch with best friends from college, Meredith and Anya.
Go out more, get a life.

4) Indulge Frohike in his strange phone calls. Likely little troll
gets little other pleasure out of life, and since they are harmless,
will stop threatening his lower extremities every time he calls.

5) Find suitable boyfriend with meaningful career who will not be
intimidated by me and will understand freakish office hours. But,
as said above, will NOT stress over finding said boyfriend.

6) Gain upper hand in all conspiracy-related work issues, leaving
partner in awe of my investigative prowess so will feel less like
Mulder’s sidekick.

7) Return movies to Blockbuster in timely manner. Alien invasion

8) Stop flirting with Alex Krycek, as is v. bad for self-image and
self in general. Krycek is hired killer, not to be trifled with,
enemy of the side of Good, etc. Hmm… v. hot, though.


~ Not a V.G. Start ~

~ Wednesday 1 January

Late videos: 2 (but since holidays and all the rushing around, is
okay), Stunning, career-advancing moves: 0 (but have a plan,
which should count for something), Number of boyfriends: 0,
Krycek seductions: 0 (v.g.)

Have decided life is in utter chaos and need a place to organize
thoughts. Discovery of said chaotic life pointed out at least
twelve times by various members of family over Christmas visit,
where Charlie commented that I, unlike my other married or
involved siblings, would be sleeping in same single bed that has
been in my room since high school whereas doubles have been
placed in all *their* perspective bedrooms to accommodate
significant others a long time ago.

“Charlie, leave Dana alone,” Mom cut in. Hurrah! Mom to the
rescue! “She’ll bring someone home when she’s ready.”

“Thank you, Mom,” I said, grateful to have ally.

After a thoughtful pause, she added, “You know, Margaret
Parker’s son Andrew just moved to Georgetown. Maybe you
could — oh, I don’t know — welcome him to the neighborhood?”

Oh no. Here it goes.

“He’s a really nice guy, Dana,” she rushed on, as if sensing
rejection on horizon. “Just got out of a nasty marriage — no fault
of his own, of course. His wife was a hideous creature — ran off
with the Schwann’s Ice Cream man! Can you believe it? Maybe
he could take you to the Haversham’s New Year’s Eve party…?”

“No, Mom.”

“And he graduated from Harvard Law–” she went on, as if this
would change my mind.

“No, Mom! I can find my own date for the party, thanks.” Felt
headache coming on. Please, God, make it stop.

As it turned out, had no date for the party after all, which Charlie
and Bill smugly pointed out. Missy, in surge of sisterly solidarity,
cancelled on her date and went stag with me. Will gloss over the
horrid details of party here, but must mention that if I had to
hear, “What, Dana? No date?” in good-natured, yet loud voice one
more time, was going to shoot first and ask questions later.

Will also ignore fact that no one said anything of the sort to
*also* single Melissa. Humph.

~ Thursday 2 January

Late videos: 2 (late fees accumulating as I speak), Stunning
career moves: 0 (first week of new year, so forgivable), Number
of boyfriends: 0, Number of pencils in the ceiling: about 30,
Krycek seductions: 4

Office. I wonder — is it considered a seduction when using
inevitable office bugs as medium? Have dropped many subtle
hints as to my plans for the evening, such as hot bubble bath and
a glass of wine (which will likely evolve into carafe of wine, if
truth be told), mentioning strangeness of never knowing if
apartment — or worse — *bathroom* being video taped. (Wink,
wink.) At any rate, have flashed some leg in complicated leg-
crossing maneuver, making sure am in direct line of video
camera in smoke detector they keep putting in no matter how
many times we find and destroy them. As if we’d be so stupid as
to discuss anything important in this office anyway.

God, am so bored. No cases, mad filing completed before holiday
break and main excitement was when Frohike called up to ask
what color underwear I’m wearing, breathing heavily when I
simply said “green.” Hung up and made mistake of glancing at
Mulder, who smiled suspiciously. Hmm… acts like he knows
what phone conversation was about. Must be on guard with that

~ Saturday 4 January

Late videos: 0 (am perfect saint with minimal late fees), Number
of phone calls from Troll Man: 1 (but was v. strange, even by his
standards.), Number of times checked computer for possible virus
sent by scorned Troll Man: 3

My Apartment. Am trying to be friendly in face of Frohike’s
strange telephone obsession, but is proving to be difficult. Phone
calls becoming increasingly weirder.


“Put that DOWN, Langly. I’m not kidding.”

“Pardon?” I asked, confused.

“Because it cost me two-hundred bucks, that’s why. Freakin’

“Frohike,” I sighed. “What do you want?”

“Oh! Hey there, pretty lady,” he drawled in what I’m sure he
thinks is a sexy voice. “What’s up, doc?”

Oh good God. “Frohike, this unnatural obsession must stop.”

“I was thinking the same thing — *Dana*. When are you going to
stop fighting what we have?”


“What we have is a weird, one-sided telephone fixation. You
need help.”

An uncomfortable pause. “Fine!” he finally spat. “Look, if you
can’t commit and commit *soon*, it’s over, baby. I’m sick of the
head games.” The phone clicked loudly, announcing sudden

Have taken two Aleve to suppress the pressure in my head.

(6:35 PM)

Hurrah! Have just come home from frustrating, unsuccessful
shopping trip to find three messages on machine. Two were
hang-ups (Frohike, no doubt), but last was from Mulder, who
wants to check out new Italian restaurant downtown and go see
movie. Hope he doesn’t want to see some slasher flick, action
movie with bad acting, or similar as have eye on new Hugh Grant
movie. Am excited because have wanted to try new restaurant for
a while, but can’t stand sympathetic, yet smug glances from high
school-aged hostesses in chunky black loafers when asking for
“table for one.” Must call Mulder and confirm.

(6:40 PM)

Humph! Just got off phone with Mulder, who can’t make it
because he’s on his way to the Gunmen’s to console a mopey

“I think you really broke his heart this time, Scully,” he said.
Could hear him trying to tamp down laughter. Told him which
end to kiss and disconnected, irritated with erratic moods of men
in general.

Survey of cabinets and fridge have come up with either rice,
canned soup or celery stalks with peanut butter as options for
dinner. Refuse to leave apartment and fight post-holiday traffic
again. No Italian food and going to movies alone is no fun when
is only option. Will instead rent DVD (when released) from
Blockbuster, go out on unexpected case and turn in v. late as per

~ Tuesday 7 January

Number of times had to calm Mulder down: 12, Cigarettes
smoked: 2 (v.v. bad.), Krycek seductions: 5 (out of desperation),
Thoughts of leaving obviously deranged FBI for private practice:
about 63

How could this happen? How? Stepped into Skinner’s office this
morning for what thought was weekly ass chewing and was
confronted by a smirking Tom Colton. By some apparent
oversight, he has received a promotion and has been transferred
back to the DC field office. Why, God? Why? Oh! Hold on,
phone ringing.

(11:54 AM)

Was Tom. Little twerp actually had the audacity to ask me to
lunch! Humph. As if I’d go anywhere with that creep.

(11:56 AM)

Although, it would give me a chance to tell him off.

(12:00 PM)

And am pretty hungry. Could always tell him off while he buys
me lunch.

(12:02 PM)

Definitely should *not* go with Tom, but with Mulder instead in
display of loyalty and unity. Hmm… Mulder talking about going
for Chinese again, though. If have to see one more spring noodle,
will be forced to stab him with his own chopsticks. God, there are
other kinds of take-out. Does he know this? Sick of Chinese, sick
of China and have never even been there. All Mulder’s fault.

Still, will not go with Vile Tom. Will suggest nice deli down the

(1:36 PM)

Oh God. Have snuck out of office with lame excuse of picking up
dry cleaning to meet with Vile Tom for lunch. Was awful and
feel awful for lying to Mulder. Entire meal was like hell, with
uncomfortable conversation and awkward silences. When finally
asked why was invited, Vile Tom admitted with flushed cheeks
that he was sorry about his previous behavior and would like to
try and be friends. Would have been more convincing if hadn’t
been trying to stare down my blouse at the time.

Angry inner feminist railed against such treatment, happily
bringing memories of Tooms case to the surface for further
enragement. Gave him thorough, but dignified ass chewing, then
left with head held high in manner of soap opera goddess. Still
seething in parking lot when cell rung.

“Scully,” I barked.

“Afternoon, Dewdrop.”

“Jesus, Frohike! Get a hobby.” I hissed.

“You *are* my hobby.” He said sulkily. Heard a sniffle on other
end before he hung up.

God. Am horrible, horrible person. Have lied to partner. Have
made Frohike cry.

~ Monday 13 January

Chocolate units consumed: 8, Murderous thoughts: too many to
count, Weight: one ton, Krycek seductions: 7 (hormonal frenzy)

Interesting development — have grown saddlebags in space of one
night’s sleep. Clothes too tight this morning, as am bloated to
twice my normal size due to menstruation. Look like Michelin
Man in a skirt. Amazing still have ability to walk without aid of
crane. God, legs ache, back aches, cramps sending dull waves of
pain throughout body. Mulder droning on and on about cow
mutilations in West Virginia while I fantasize about movie with
John Cusack as hired killer in manner of Krycek, but much more

Wonder where fascination with bad boys has come from. Reflect
on how wrong it is to get attached to soulless murderers. Hmm…
think dismissing them as soulless isn’t quite fair — surely just
misunderstood? Spend several slides worth of time romanticizing
profession of mercenary as glamorous and James Bond-like. A
dirty, but necessary evil in a dirty, evil world? Perhaps there
truly is more than meets the eye. Yet, can’t help but feel am
betrayal of modern feminist goals and have turned into mindless
heap of moral-less, hormonal, quivering girly-ness due to lack
of sex.

Am *not* mindless twit who sits around in rough bars looking
for creep who treats her badly to make her life feel more
complete. Am sensible woman of morals not driven to distraction
by hormones, therefore should not be attracted to bad boys. Am
woman, hear me roar and all that. And next time see Vile Tom,
will — Oooh! Found box of chocolate truffles hidden under stack
of papers on desk!

~ Tuesday 14 January

Weight: 600 lbs. (feels like), Chocolate units: 4 (improvement),
Krycek seductions: 2, Tense elevator meetings: 1

Michelin Tire Man-style saddlebags appear to have shrunk. Still
bloated, however, and v. cranky.

Matters not helped when ran into Vile Tom alone in elevator on
way to cafeteria for substandard, powder-based cappuccino.
Situation v. uncomfortable as wanted to continue tongue-lashing,
but thought it redundant and ill-mannered to continue in that
fashion every time we meet. Rode two floors in increasingly
tense silence when:

“Look, Dana, I’m really sorry about lunch yesterday. I don’t
know what came over me. Will you let me make it up to you?”

Ha! How unoriginal. Wondered if he always began apologies to
offended women in this manner. ‘Sorry for groping you, darlin’.
Don’t know what came over me.’ Is pathetic, to say the very least.
Ugh, and cocky smile on his face made me want to deck him.

Raised my chin to show am clearly above him and his insincere
apologies and told him in dignified voice, “There’s just too much
water under the bridge, Tom. You ruined any chance we had of
remaining friends when you showed your ass last time we
worked together.”

Had the grace to look ashamed. Good.

Elevator doors opened and I prepared to stride out past him
triumphantly when he stopped me with a gentle hand on my arm.
Looked down into my eyes longingly and whispered, “I certainly
hope that isn’t true, Dana.”


~ Wednesday 22 January

Chocolate units: 1 (excellent progress), Krycek seductions: 0
(perfectly saint-like), Panic attacks: 8, Number of dates on the
horizon: 1 (but v. bad)

Nearly a year without going on a single date, and now this. Is v.
v. bad.

Oh God, how do I get myself into these things? Ran into Vile
Tom again (regular occurrence of this highly suspicious) and he
asked me to dinner Saturday. Appeared so sad and repentant it
seemed wrong to reject him, so I agreed. In the interest of
improving work relations, of course.

“Don’t you think you should apologize to Mulder, too?” I asked.

His face tightened for a moment, then relaxed as he answered
smoothly, “Uh, yes. I’ll come down later this afternoon and have
a word with him.”

I smiled, relieved that things would be patched up between them.
After all, with Tom back in VCS, we’ll be working with him
every now and then. But even still, how will I tell Mulder am
going out with the enemy?

(4:56 PM)

Definitely a *bad* idea to suggest Tom come down here to

Heard a knock on the door and looked up at Mulder, who seemed
surprised. Got up and answered the door. It was Tom.

“Dana,” he nodded in greeting.

“Tom. Come in. I was just, uh, leaving to get some more request
forms from Transportation.” I said lamely and scuttled off to give
them privacy.

Came back after nervous pacing began to wear on my nerves to
find Tom storming into elevator.

“Tom!” I called, but the doors shut before he could answer.

“Can you believe the nerve of that asshole?” Mulder huffed
behind me. Obvious the meeting did *not* go well. Hmm… this
complicates things a bit. Think I’ll hold off on telling Mulder
about the date this weekend. My personal life isn’t office
business, right? Right?

~ Saturday 25 January

Frohike calls gracefully endured: 3, Alcohol units: 8, Krycek
seductions: 1

Have called Melissa in for reinforcements. Has been v.
understanding of my plight and offered to help me get ready. Am
going over to her apartment in an hour to discuss battle plan and
shop for outfit, as closet holds nothing but half-ruined suits,
sundress I wore to bar-b-cue at Bill and Tara’s last year, clothes
for lounging around the house and about five cocktail dresses
from the 80’s, reminding me that I once had a life.


Have just come back from afternoon with Melissa. Decided that:

a) I will not let whatever this is with Tom interfere with
relationship I have with Mulder

b) Will not get wrapped up in I-have-a-date-*finally* euphoria,
as is just an evening between two people who used to be friends
trying to mend friendship

c) Will not appear too excited. Will play it cool and confident.

So, I think I’m ready. Found a great dress and splurged on strappy
Prada heels that cost me a week’s salary. But as Missy says, you
only live once. Saw Krycek, cleverly disguised as delivery man at
mall, but was not fooled. Flipped hair back and sashayed over to
man standing next to him to ask for the time, making sure to
brush against him as I left. Getting bolder in seductions. Really
must stop.

Am so excited about getting out tonight! God, it’s been too long.

(8:45 PM)

Cannot believe this has happened. Have been stood up. It’s my
own fault — I knew Vile Tom wasn’t the same man he was back
at the Academy, but wanted to give him benefit of the doubt.
Look where *that’s* left me.


(12:16 PM)

I say screwim. Missy here for girl’s nidein. Who needs men?
Gonna call Muller, as not man, but bedder.


“Muller! Hey!”

“Scully? Are you drunk?”

“Um, maybee. Can’t ‘member. But you were right ’bout Vile

“‘Vile Tom’?” he sounded amused.

“The oneanonly. Annyway, thas it.” Hung up.

Umph! Jus fell off couch.

A/N: The “Krycek Seductions” are inspired by a hilarious story I read in the HP fandom, featuring “Malfoy Seductions.” Here’s the title and URL:
Hermione Granger’s Diary by Wonk