Dana Scully’s Diary – Chapter 4

Feedback: XSandPiper78[at]aol.com

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.

~The Lies Men Tell~
~ Saturday, 15 February

Number of times caught self smiling: 36, Number of times
smile wiped off face due to unpleasant memory: 34, Krycek
seductions: 2, Phone calls from Tom: 0 (odd)

Last night was wonderful, regardless of hair fiasco. Started out
at Tuscana West (absolutely delicious), then went dancing at
trendy salsa club downtown. Will not bother to mention here
that I cannot salsa, nor the fact that Tom’s feet (and possibly
shins, calves and arms) are, no doubt, bruised beyond all

Was a lovely night though. Couldn’t ask for a better Valentine’s
Day, or a more agreeable companion.

One small glitch, though — the goodnight kiss.

It was at my apartment door, at the end of the night — just where
all romantic, end-of-date kisses *should* be. He brushed back a
strand of hair that had fallen out of my clasp and looked deeply
into my eyes. As he leaned in, I closed my eyes, chin tilted
upward in anticipation of the perfect conclusion to an almost-
perfect evening, and…

You know the expression “He kissed me like he was my
brother?” Well, he kissed me more like he was the golden
retriever I had when I was six — all tongues and slobber and
eagerness. There’s just nothing romantic about that.

Why? Why this? It wasn’t like this the other day in the copy
room! We had so much passion between us, so much fire. What

Gah. Not a v.g. start to the relationship. Am most perplexed.
Worst of all, once finished he asked if he could come inside for
a drink. Politely told him I had to get up early in the morning
take nephew to the zoo. Astonished and a bit horrified by the
ease of which I come up with these lies lately. Nevertheless, it
*did* get me out of fending Rover off for the remainder of the

Will put entire kiss disaster out of mind. Was a wonderful night,
after all, and should not dwell on one flaw. Will ruin memory of
rest of date.

(2:46 PM)

*Was* disgusting, though. V. off-putting. Perhaps should
rethink the whole “Tom” thing.

(2:50 PM)

No, am being uncharitable and snooty in the extreme. One small
flaw! And he’s proven that he can kiss by that delicious display
in copy room. Must stop being such a snob.

(2:52 PM)

Then again, *why* should kissing on our date be any different
from kissing in the copy room? Is thrill of being caught only
thing holding relationship together? Was exciting when hiding
attraction from Mulder, etc., and exciting to make out at work
like hormonal teenagers. Maybe not sneaking around has
sapped away some of the appeal of this…situation.

Of course, alcohol *was* involved last night, plus the
anticipation of …er, *consummating* our relationship…one
could see where the male animal could revert to just that — an

However slobbering and overeager.

(3:38 PM)

Have called Missy over for emergency advice summit.

“So he drools. Big deal. I once had a guy who grunted every
time we kissed — like a hog or ape or something.”

“I’m serious, Missy.”

“I am, too! Do you have any idea how distracting it is to feel
like you’re in bed with King Kong?”

This gave me pause. Surely her situation was much worse. “So?
What did you do?”

Flashed me a sly smile and replied, “I played ‘Tarzan’ with

“So what you’re saying is…I should play along?”

She nodded. “Make it work for you.”

I thought a moment, but none of the scenarios in my mind
seemed appealing. “It’s no use. All I can think of is to play fetch
with the guy.”

She grinned from ear to ear. “Now you’re talking!”

Really must stop taking advice from Melissa Scully.

~ Monday, 17 February

Calories consumed: 5 million (seems like), Crying fits: 3 (am
disgusted), Krycek seductions: 1 half-hearted attempt,
Murderous thoughts: about 600 (with three well-planned
homicidal plots — one for every time was reduced to tears.)

(5:27 AM)

Oh God. Have woken up from horrid nightmare involving a dog
bowl, a leash and the copy room on the second floor of the
Hoover. Serves me right for being so preoccupied with Tom and
The Kissing Disaster. How shallow have I become? Am
disgusted with self. And Tom must have sensed it, poor man.
Hasn’t called me at all this weekend. Oh well, might as well get
up and get an early start to work.

Right after I rest my eyes for a moment.

(9:45 AM)


(10:12 AM)

Office. Okay, am officially through with obsessing over Tom’s
little faux pas. Will call him now to brilliantly ‘suggest’ another
date, all the while making him think it was his idea.

(10:13 AM)

Strange. Just got off with Tom, who seemed v. anxious to end
call. Could swear I heard muffled laughter in background.

V. strange indeed.

(11:55 AM)

Am so bored. Mulder left over twenty minutes ago, and I have
no one to talk to. Refuse to call Tom again; can’t go off looking
desperate, now can I? Paperwork to do. Blah. Hate tediousness
of paperwork, stretching into an infinite wasteland of–

Oh! Here’s Mulder now.

(12:13 PM)

Hmm… Nodded significantly at stack of files on his desk as he
sat down, as to suggest that I had been here working all along,
and, hadn’t you better get started, too? It was then that I noticed
he was scowling.

“What?” I asked.

He clenched and unclenched his fists and closed his eyes for a
moment as though trying to regain some composure. “Nothing.
I just…had a run-in with Tom Colton.” He said, as if this
explained everything.

Admittedly, in the past that *would’ve* explained everything.
Tom was the butt of many inside jokes between Mulder and I,
and the fact that the three of us didn’t get along was a given.
Therefore, a run-in with Tom Colton (though previously on the
phone — before his transfer back to DC) could only mean an
unpleasant conversation was had. No more need be said.

That was before, of course. Am more invested now and anxious
for the details.

“Tom Colton, huh?” I asked, trying to sound bored and
uninterested. “What did he have to say?”

Mulder’s jaw tightened. “Nothing important.”

Well, that was that. I know better than to press the issue when
he has that homicidal look in his eye. Am v. disappointed in
Tom, though. I thought he was trying to get along with Mulder,
not goad him into hating him more. If such a thing is even

An uncomfortable silence stretched after his last words, which
was at last interrupted by the phone ringing.

“Mulder,” he grunted into the receiver. He said nothing more
until the end of the call, which he ended with an abrupt, “I’ll be
right there.”

“Skinner?” I asked.

“Yeah.” He snatched his coat off the back of his chair.

I started to rise. “Let me grab that file he wanted before we go.”

“No, he just wants me.”

I frowned. “Why?”

“‘Informal disciplinary meeting,’ I believe were the exact
words.” And before I could ask what he was being disciplined
for *this* time, he was already out the door.

V. strange. Am usually present for all of Mulder’s blatant
displays of disobedience. What kind of trouble could he have
gotten himself into in the twenty or so minutes he was gone
getting request forms?

Oh, no. Sense of doom settling in pit of stomach. Realized that
when he returned, he was empty-handed. Either he never made
it to get the forms, or got into another tiff with the smart-asses
in Transportation.

Damn. Well, will wait for Mulder’s return and take a late lunch.

(12:45 PM)

Okay, still not back.

(12:57 PM)

Nope, not yet. What’s going on?

(1:30 PM)

Okay, have occupied myself with filing and light paperwork,
but Mulder still has not returned. Am famished. Will pop out
for a quite bite and get back as fast as possible.

(2:01 PM)

Office empty, but there is evidence that Mulder came back.
Files he was studying earlier now gone, and trench coat
missing. Appears he has left for the day.

(2:13 PM)

V. strange. Mulder isn’t picking up home phone or cell. Wish I
knew what was happening here.

(7:20 PM)

Oh God. I can’t believe this. Went over to Mulder’s apartment
after work, a bit worried by unusual events of the day. He
wouldn’t open the door, but heard TV going. Worry overrode
respect for his privacy, so I used my key to get in.

Was sprawled out on couch with beer in his hand and eight
empty beer bottles on messy coffee table.

“Jesus, Mulder.”

“What do you want?”

Was taken aback. “I…I just wanted to see if you’re okay.”

Waved hand dismissively. “I’m okay, I’m okay.”

“Doesn’t look like it.”

“Did you come here just to nag me, Scully? I said I’m fine.”

Took a seat next to him, noting that he reeked of yeast. “What
happened, Mulder?”

Looked at me with narrowed eyes, as if appraising me, then
turned away to take a swig from his bottle. “I’m suspended for
three days.”

Sighed. “For what?”

“What difference does it make? Skinner says I get a three day
vacation and I have no choice but to take it.”

“Yes, but how did you manage to earn yourself another

Turned sharply to face me. “You’re infallible, right?
Responsible adult, dutiful agent.” He reached over to flick the
lapel of my jacket. “Sensible clothing. You don’t make
mistakes, do you? Don’t answer that,” he laughed bitterly. “Of
course you don’t make mistakes. Not the perfect. Dana.
Katherine. Scully.”

Was horrified by his behavior. “What’s gotten into you?”

“I think the question is, what’s gotten into *you*. Or should I
say, *who*?”

“What?” I gasped.

He grabbed my arms. “Tell me you didn’t do it, Scully. Tell me
that perfect Dana Scully didn’t fuck up so majorly.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! You’re scaring me.”

“Tom Colton.”

Oh my God.

“Overheard an interesting conversation on my way to
Transportation. Seems ol’ Tommy Boy got lucky Friday night.”

Oh my GOD.

“So that was your hot date, huh? Well? Don’t you have anything
to say?”

I jerked out of his grasp. “I don’t know what the hell you’re
talking about.”

He laughed again, the same bitter laugh as before. “It adds up,
Scully. The long coffee breaks, the ‘errands’ you suddenly have
to run. I didn’t see it before, but I do now.”

Took a deep breath. “Just tell me what happened today.”

He was silent for so long, I thought he wasn’t going to answer.
Then, “I heard him bragging to some guys in the bullpen how
he nailed the Ice Queen. Got pretty graphic. So I nailed *him* –
– right in the bastard’s nose.”

Couldn’t speak. Was like nightmare where you scream at the
top of your lungs, but nothing more than a weak whisper comes

“You know the worst part? I thought I was defending your
honor. I was happy to take the punishment. But the more I
thought about it, the more I realized I’ve been a fool.”

“Mulder, I–”

“Just go, Scully. I can’t… Just, go.”

Oh God. I’ve ruined everything.

And Tom Colton has ruined me.