Dana Scully’s Diary – Chapter 5

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.

~ Losing It ~

~ Tuesday 18, February

Chocolates: 6 (to placate nerves), Fantasies involving Vile
Tom’s complete destruction: 362, Humiliating trips to AD’s
office: 1, Newfound allies: 1 (v.g.)

Toyed with idea of not coming in to work today. Yes, is
cowardly. But my humiliation is absolute.

However, *did* come in. Walk from lobby to elevator
excruciating, as was subject of much attention. Never cared
much for gossip, but care even less to be *focus* of gossip.

Damn Tom Colton for doing this to me.

(10:15 AM)

Was called to Skinner’s office by Skinner himself — a rarity.
Didn’t want to leave safe haven of dump we call an office but
realized is asking a bit much to expect superior to come to
*my* office, rather than other way around. Would have spared
me the further humiliation of walking through the bullpen,
though, amid not-so-subtle whispers and transparent attempts to
point me out to other evil gossipmongers.

“He’ll see you now, Agent Scully,” Kimberly said with
sympathetic smile as I closed the door the Skinner’s outer

“Thank you.”

“Agent Scully?”

Stopped with hand just on door knob.

“I know it isn’t appropriate for me to be saying this, but I just
want you to know I think Tom Colton is a real asshole. I
wouldn’t believe a single word that comes out of his mouth.”

Felt warmth spreading through me at the woman’s candid
words. Here is someone I’ve never spoken a word to that wasn’t
work related, yet she was lending me her moral support. Smiled
gratefully and went inside.

“Agent Scully,” Skinner began solemnly with a nod. “Please
take a seat.”

Sat there for several silent moments, trying not to squirm under
intense stare Skinner pinned me with. Was like being under


Man has certain talent for making anyone in that seat
uncomfortable. Suddenly, one begins to feel guilt creeping on
them; no one is innocent under that stare. Misdeeds from
childhood pop up out of nowhere, and you feel the shame
afresh. The fact that you didn’t wash your hands after using the
bathroom before coming in to his office is brought to mind, and
you recall with dread that last week you swiped an extra box of
pens from Supply while everyone’s backs were turned.

Stare was beginning to wear me down. Shifted in seat. Damn, a
sign of weakness. Just as I was about to confess to half a dozen
things I didn’t even do, he began to speak. Much to my relief.

“Agent Scully, I called you in here to discuss the — issues —
between you and Agents Colton and Mulder.”

Or, much to my dismay.

“Er, yes.”

“I don’t need to know about your personal life, Agent, that’s not
why you’re here. However, I’m disappointed to find that one of
my most responsible and reliable agents has decided to air her
personal business here at work. Frankly, I never would have
expected it from you.”

Was horrified. “What?”

“The whole bullpen is buzzing. What you and Agent Colton do
outside of the job should *stay* outside of the job. And then
this business with Agent Mulder… ”

Couldn’t believe it. Was being *reprimanded* for this?

“Sir, with all due respect, you have no idea what’s going on.”

Fixed me with another stare.

“Well? Enlighten me,” he barked.

“First of all, I’m not the one spreading these lies about myself.
Tom Colton is,” I spat the name. “I went to dinner with him on
Valentine’s Day and left him at my front door. The next thing I
know, my name is being slandered all over the building and my
partner is suspended”

Skinner’s face set into a grim line. “I see. Agent Mulder didn’t
inform me of these events.”

Was floored.

“He…He took the suspension without explaining himself?”
Could not imagine *why* he would do such a thing.

Skinner stabbed the call button on his phone.

“Sir?” Kimberly’s disembodied voice answered.

“Get Agent Colton in here. Now.” He barked the last. Can
honestly say Mulder and I have been on receiving end of his
anger more than any other agent in the building. Have recently
come up with a system which categorizes level of his anger on a
scale of “mildly irritated” to “barely suppressed rage.” Makes it
easier to gauge just what we’re in for from the moment we step
into his office. Judging by the veins throbbing in his temples, I’d
say he was bordering on “unmitigated wrath.” Scary.

Skinner looked down at his hands, which were folded on his
desk. “I apologize for the undue reprimand, Agent Scully.”

I nodded. “What happens to Mulder now?”

“He’ll be reinstated with my apologies and his record expunged.
Of this *recent* disciplinary action, that is.”

“I just can’t understand why he would accept punishment
without explaining himself,” I said, more to myself than to

But he looked thoughtful for a moment and then replied,
“Maybe he was still trying to protect you.”


When I walked out of office, saw Vile Tom sitting on couch,
waiting for Skinner and shifting uncomfortably under
Kimberly’s withering glare. (Was satisfied beyond reason to see
that Mulder had broken the arrogant bastard’s nose!) Walked
past him without comment but with graceful purpose, rejoicing
in the fact that he was about to bear the brunt of decades of
military and FBI-trained authority.

Vile Tom was in for a treat.

~ Wednesday 19, February

Cups of coffee consumed: 8, Fantasies involving watching
Mulder pound Vile Tom’s face: 62, Krycek seductions: 1 (am
improving), Frohike calls: 2

(7:31 AM)

Oddly nervous about today. Will be the first time seeing Mulder
since horrid incident in his apartment and am not sure of his
reception. Cannot imagine what he must think of me. Have lied
and consorted with the enemy, giving said enemy fodder for
spreading lies and, therefore, giving partner reason to smash in
enemy’s remarkably ugly nose.

One *could* surmise that Mulder’s suspension was my fault.

But, of course, is ridiculous! Mulder alone is responsible for his
actions, as I am for mine. Could not have predicted would
escalate into this atrocious spectacle! Only goal was to have a
little fun, to try and regain some of semblance of a life which
has eluded me in the past few years. Where’s the harm in that?

(9:02 AM)

Hmm… Mulder’s not here. Must be running late.

(9:36 AM)

Still not here. Will call Kimberly to ask if Mulder has been told
he’s to come back on duty today.

(9:40 AM)

Interesting. Kimberly confirmed that Mulder was called
yesterday, but is using a sick day today. Maybe he just needs
another day to cool off. Will give him space and let all this
work out in it’s own time.

V. odd, though. Mulder *hates* to miss work. Can’t recall a
time where he voluntarily took a day off; even when he wasn’t
at the office, he was off investigating something. Must be more
upset about this than I thought.

(3:45 PM)

Mind-numbing day interrupted when heard a knock at office

“Come in,” I shouted.

Was typing up expense report, so didn’t spare more than passing
glance at the maintenance man who entered with ladder.

“Yeah, I’m here to replace your light fixture,” the man said in
heavy Bostonian accent.

Waved in general direction of broken light above. Has been
most irritating lately, turning itself off and on so much Mulder
believed a spirit was responsible. Humph! Anyway, have been
working off other lights in office, but is depressing to have so
little illumination, so I called for a replacement today. Was
grateful for uncharacteristic promptness.

“I’m glad you’re here. It’s been giving us trouble for two weeks
now,” I told the man, who had his back turned to me while
setting up ladder. Went back to typing.

Was trying to figure out how to justify spending $300 on
oatmeal and peat moss on recent case when maintenance man
cleared his throat and announced:

“Yeah, this fixture is pretty much fried.”

Paused, mid-keystroke. Accent was pure Massachusetts, but the
voice was familiar. V. familiar. Looked up to see the man
watching me from the ladder through black-rimmed eyeglasses.
Coveralls bore the name “Drew”, but something about his
stance — even on the ladder — and the cocky smirk on his face
as he looked at me told me otherwise.

Alex Krycek, I presume?

Felt knowing smile creep across my face. He responded in kind
with a snort and even wider, cockier smirk before going back to

Oh, yes. Gotcha, Gaspadin Krycek.

Have to wonder about motivation. He’s no fool — he would
know I would recognize him in an instant. Why not send out a
nameless, faceless goon like always? And upon recognizing
him, he must’ve known would *never* trust anything he’s
installing. Obvious conclusion is that he *wanted* to be
recognized. Cannot fathom why.

Forgot all about report. Leaned back in chair with one arm
draped over back of seat and re-crossed legs, openly staring at
him while nibbling in a seductive nature on end of pen. Couldn’t
help myself. Was satisfying to see him try to keep up
appearance of working on task at hand while taking glances at
me out of the corner of his eye.

Within minutes, all pretense of work was given up and Krycek
was staring at my mouth with a keenness that made my heart
rate quicken. Damn, but the man is unreasonably sexy when
he’s turned on. We ogled each other shamelessly. Couldn’t help
but wonder what he wanted, coming in here like this.
Speculated (and didn’t dare to analyze *why*) what it would be
like if he would come down from that ladder and back me up
against the wall to have his way with me. Oooh, am getting
goose bumps just thinking about it again. Experience would
earn me entire page in Playgirl’s ‘Erotic Encounters’: “How I
Seduced an Alien Conspirator Four Floors Beneath My AD’s

Just as he licked his lips (oooh, delicious) and looked like was
about to speak, the phone rang. Ignored it, but was supremely
irritated with interruption.

*Ring. Ring. Ring.*

Couldn’t peel our eyes off each other. Pulled pen out of mouth
to lick own lips when Krycek quirked an eyebrow.

“Are ya gonna answer that, Miss?” Still in that accent. My, my.
It seems our little spy likes to role play. Filed that tidbit away
for future reference.

Moment soon gone, however, when phone stopped ringing and
began again, seconds later. Picked up the phone in a huff.

“Yes?” I hissed into receiver.

“Hey there, Sexy Mama.”

“It’s not a good time, Frohike.”

A pause. “It’s never a good time, is it *Dana*,” he bit out.

Sighed. Never wanted to hurt the little guy’s feelings. Glancing
up at Krycek, I saw he’d gone back to replacing the fixture. Is
for the best, should be glad of the interruption. Have been
playing a dangerous game, really.

“Look, I’m sorry. I really am. It’s just been an awful week and —

“Hey, don’t sweat it, Darlin’. Let me tell you about the week
*I’ve* had…”

Proceeded to talk my ear off about computer glitches and
problems infiltrating an Air Force base somewhere in the
Midwest (would not disclose exactly which one). Was regaled
with tales of Byers begging off on cleaning the toilet and the
bickering between Frohike and Langly. Knew this was his way
of saying everything was okay between us and was strangely
grateful for it.

By the time I got off the phone, Krycek was carrying the ladder
out with no more than a nod goodbye.

(6:23 PM)

So happy to be home. Such a tedious day of paperwork and
filing and —

Oooh! Phone’s ringing.

Was Frohike again.

“What’s going on with Mulder?” He asked without preamble.

Frowned. “What, he hasn’t spoken to you guys?”

“No, no. He isn’t answering his phone, but we can see he’s at

Felt first tingles of a headache coming on. Pinched bridge of
nose. “Please tell me you guys haven’t set up video surveillance
in his apartment.”

“Only in the living room and kitchen!” came his indignant

“And what about *my* apartment, Frohike?”



“Um, no. We don’t have anything in your apartment.” Sounded
less than convincing.

Have checked every square inch of bedroom and bathroom for
bugs and cameras. Can only imagine what sort of peepshow
have been giving those perverts.

~ Thursday 20, February

Cups of coffee: 10, Times filed nails: 2, Calls to the Gunmen
for no reason at all: 3, Krycek Seductions: 0 (astounding!)

(9:25 AM)

Is obvious Mulder is not coming in again. Calling Kimberly
again, just to be sure.

“Assistant Director Skinner’s office.”

“Hi, Kimberly, it’s Agent Scully.”

“Agent Scully, hello! Can I help you with something?”

“Yes, actually. I wondered if Agent Mulder has taken another
sick day, by any chance.”

Wincing now. Sound like suspicious wife, and hate that. Is so
unlike me. Kimberly doesn’t seem to think anything of it,
though, and tells me he has indeed taken a sick day. I thank her
and hang up, thoroughly confused.

Why is Mulder still avoiding me? Why? Surely he must have
cooled off by now.

~ Friday 21, February

Minutes stewing over partner’s stubbornness: 240, Krycek
seductions: 0 (am perfect, saint-style person), Alcohol units: 2
(okay, 8)

Office. Am over Mulder’s childish avoidance tacks. Have called
several times and even dropped by apartment to see what’s
going on with him and nothing. Not a return phone call or a
message telling me to piss off — nothing. The more I look at his
empty desk, the angrier I become. Will pop out for an early
lunch and come back…whenever I damn well please! If he
thinks all the grunt work will be done for him whenever he
decides to return, he’s got another thing coming to him! Have
already done my fair share, plus at least half of his.


(5:31 PM)

Hmm… Interesting. Was gathering files to leave promptly at
five o’clock when there was a knock at the door. Heart raced,
thinking it could be Krycek again.

Was Kimberly, of all people. She wanted to know if I’d like to
go out for a drink later tonight with Amber, another assistant.
Looked at Mulder’s empty desk for the thousandth time today
and told her that I would love to come.

Am meeting them at Cafe St Ex at 8:00. Should be nice to have
a “girl’s night out” again. Haven’t done it since I graduated from
the Academy. Am a bit excited!

(12:58 AM)

Was blurry great time, mus do it again. Love Kimmy, love
Amber. Love little avation mapsa lover place. Is planes. Can’t
stop laughin about Vile Tom getting it but goodin Skinner’s
office. Oh, shit! Left my cars in the purse.

Shit! Dubble shit!

Ooof! Fell again. Oops.

A/N: “Gaspadin” is Russian for “Mister.” HUGE thanks to Logan for researching that for me.