Dana Scully’s Diary – Chapter 7

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.

Declaration of Independence


~ Thursday 2, March

Chocolate units: 2 (contraband hidden in briefcase and eaten
on the sly), Alcohol units: 0 (v. good), Stunning career moves: –
0 (will be paying for ‘carnie’ incident for years to come), Late
videos: 3 (all soppy, pre-Vile Tom breakdown romances. Bah.)

Office. Things have become rather quiet around office,
upsettingly so. Mulder has not spoken a word to me that isn’t
work-related in some way, and even then he says as little as
possible. When he must look at me, it’s as if he’s looking
straight through me. Yet every once in a while I catch him
staring, and wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it. Sometimes
he looks so sad. Sometimes he just looks angry and disgusted.

Am heartbroken. Mulder means the world to me and it hurts to
see he seems to think so little of me now. Still, a part of me
wonders why he’s taking the Vile Tom thing so personally! It
isn’t as if Mulder and I are a couple, for God’s sake. Realize the
damage Vile Tom has done to Mulder in the past — and it was
minimal, in the grand scheme of things. Really all he did was
insult him in the same manner to which we are accustomed; he
did nothing that hasn’t been done to us time and again. I’ve seen
Mulder being friendly to agents who have done more harm to us
in the past, seeing that they’ve come around to respect us, even
if they still didn’t believe in our work. What makes Tom
*sodding* Colton so different?

Just don’t know anymore. My thoughts have been spinning out
of control of late; no sooner do I think I can lay a finger on the
problem than it flits out of reach. I can’t make sense of anything.

One thought persists, though: if Mulder and I aren’t involved,
then why is he behaving like a jealous boyfriend? Is baffling.

(1:12 PM)

Wonderful, exciting news! Have, admittedly, abused authority
and misused federal equipment by having employed contact up
in Quantico to attempt to track down former best friends
Meredith and Anya. It’s been two weeks since I called in the
favor and had forgotten all about it with everything that’s been
going on.

Am happy to find that attempt was successful! Agent
Abercrombie was able to at least find Anya through NCIC. Will
give her a call this afternoon. Have been so excited by prospect
of reuniting that have barely had time to notice Mulder’s cold
shoulder all afternoon.

(5:52 PM)

Got in touch with Anya. Cannot believe incredible luck! She is
still v. close to Meredith and they meet no less than three times
a month. Have arranged to meet them both at Miss Saigon for
Vietnamese Saturday afternoon. Can’t wait! Have so much to
catch up on.

Hmm… wonder if should leave out particulars of my job for the
time being.

Definitely yes, I think.

~ Friday 3, March

Alcohol units: 2, Calls from Frohike:1, # of boyfriends: 0,
Chocolate units: 3 (everything in moderation today, is v. good),
Men pressed against my wall: 0 (but unfortunately NOT a good

(6:33 PM)

A v. upsetting thing has happened. Returned from grocery store
to find Stan the bug man in my living room. Is v. disconcerting
as have changed locks and informed management of building
that no one but partner is to enter my apartment while am away.
Put bags on table and reached for gun.

“What are you doing here?” I demanded.

“Exterminator, ma’am.”

“Don’t give me that crap. Who sent you?”

Looked sulky. “Georgetown Pest Control. Really, ma’am, do
you think the gun is necessary?”

Pushed him against wall and frisked him, pretending not to
notice he was leaning into my hands as though enjoying the
attention. Creepy. V. creepy. Turned him around to face me as
soon as I was satisfied he was carrying nothing more dangerous
than ant bait.

“I never called for an exterminator,” I told him. “And I don’t
want anyone in this apartment unless I invite them in myself.”

He swallowed hard.

“Why do you keep coming here?”

“Pest control, ma’am.” Was visibly sweating. “You’ve, uh, got a
German roach problem. You’re infested!” he squeaked out the

Narrowed eyes in what I hope was menacing fashion. “I. Don’t.
Have. Roaches!”

“Look here, now — you’re in denial! I can smell ’em,” he said
knowingly. “They’re here, hiding like the little bastards they

Was speechless. Level of insanity in my life has risen to epic
proportions. How did I come to this? What have I done to
attract all the Vernons and Stans in my life? Allowed Stan to
spray once again for the non-existent roaches he insists are
there. Was too bewildered to stop him. Will think of it as a
preventative measure, rather than admit the fact that am too
dazed to even halt the lunacy in my world.

Is this what I have come to?

~ Saturday 4, March

Alcohol units: 9, Chocolate units: 15 (Hershey’s kisses are
blissfully delicious with beer), Perverted Frohike calls: 2,
Reunions with Feminist roots: 1 (Hurrah!), New resolutions
added: 2 (am v. proud of self)

Leaving to meet the girls in a few minutes. Is so exciting! Anya
told me yesterday she lives in Fairfax, so she’s pretty close, but
Meredith is living just outside of Richmond in New Kent
county. I wondered at that — she was always such a city girl.
Never expected her to go rural.

Makes me wonder about them both. How much have they
changed? How much have *I* changed, come to that? If I think
about it, am completely different person than was in college. Is
depressing in many ways.

Oooh! Must dash.

(4:20 PM)

Euphoric! Had a wonderful time reuniting. Was a little late, but
Anya and Meredith were later. Was reassuring — maybe they
hadn’t changed much after all. Was slyly checking out man
sitting three tables away when they breezed inside and caught
sight of me. Couldn’t suppress giddy feeling.

“Dana!” Meredith exclaimed.

Jumped out of seat and hugged my old friend. She still looks as
incredible as she did in school. Angelic face surrounded by a
trendy, honey-colored cut. Big, glassy blue eyes. She used to
reel ’em in with her sweet appearance. They never knew what
hit them.

“Okay, okay. Stop hogging the woman, Mer!” Anya broke in. I
laughed and embraced her next. Anya was, and is still,
Meredith’s polar opposite. The brooding one, the feminist poet.
She looked much the same, too, with her long, dark hair
cascading in wild waves to the middle of her back and her
startling green eyes. Where Meredith has always been beautiful
in the classic sense, Anya has always been stunning in a fiercely
exotic way.

I picked up a strand of Anya’s hair. “Still dyeing, I see,” I
teased. She always hated it whenever anyone would even
*suggest* that her hair might not be natural.

“I am *not* some bimbo for Clairol, thank you very much!” she
used to say, then launch into a rant about women changing
themselves for men and competing with each other when we
should be embracing sisterhood. Once she got going, it would
usually take both me and Meredith to pull her away.

This time, she just smirked at me. “I won’t even dignify that
with a response. But I *will* say that at least we know *you’re*
all natural.”

Felt heat pooling in my cheeks. “Oh, God! I can’t believe you
still remember that!”

Meredith laughed. “How could we forget? We take our
boyfriends skinny-dipping and you end up giving them a

“You think I *wanted* to lose my bikini bottom in that nasty
lake? It was the most mortifying experience in my life.”

Anya took a seat and grinned knowingly. “I don’t think Jason
minded so much, though. It took you both a pretty long time to
get out of that ‘nasty lake,’ as you call it.”

Smiled widely at the memory and sat down next to Meredith.
“No, I don’t think he minded at all.”

Fell back into our comfortable old ways instantly. Was afraid
things might be awkward, or that they’d be angry I’d lost touch.
Was completely the opposite! Am so happy; I have my sisters

Am meeting them for dinner and drinks later tonight. Will get
ready and drop paperwork off at Mulder’s apartment before I
go, since he has left three messages asking for it while I was
away. Would like to have a Mulder-free Sunday, if possible, so
will be getting this out of the way as soon as possible. At least
he’s opening his door to me now.

(6:22 PM)

New resolution: Must stop letting Mulder get to me.

Have just left his apartment, where I dropped off the file he
needed. Odd, though, that he needed that particular file so
urgently. Was ready to round-file the entire case just after
leaving it behind here last month — why the urgency?

Anyway, he opened the door and looked at me as if he’d never
seen me in regular clothes before. Really, is silly! Am not
dressed inappropriately for where am going — was behaving
like am dressed like a streetwalker.

“Here’s that file, Mulder.”

Made noncommittal noise in back of his throat, no longer
looking at me, but at the floor. Held pointless file out, waiting
for him to take it. He didn’t.

Suddenly was v. annoyed. How dare he continue to act this way
toward me?

“Look, I have to go. Either take the damn file or not, but I’m not
standing out here all night waiting for you to make up your

Ah, that got his attention. Only now he was looking at me like
he’d like to take me out, and not in a good way. Snatched the
file out of my hand. Good, at least *that’s* settled, I thought.

But was still seething. How dare he call me up, demanding a
favor and then act like I’m an intruder when I show up?

“And another thing, Mulder. I’d appreciate a little less hostility
next time I do you a favor.”

Stalked back to the elevator, not bothering to wait for a
response. Am bored with his attitude. More to the point, am sick
of being taken for granted. Sick. Of. It!

**I decree that Dana Katherine Scully will no longer be taken
for granted by fuckwit of a partner!**

Will persevere, and stick to this decree as gospel! Have
survived viscous office rumors, vile excuse for a romantic
prospect, alien bounty hunters, psychotics, cannibals, invisible
entities, haunted Tilt-O-Whirls, strange contortionists, every
type of scum imaginable, and God only knows how many
attempts on my life. Have saved countless lives, am responsible,
intelligent woman of substance with nothing less than the world
at my feet — will NOT back down! A woman with my creds has
only one reasonable conclusion to reach:

I will NEVER let him take advantage of my loyalty again, no
matter how unique our situation is. Am his equal, damn it, not
his shadow with a convenient “M.D.” after my name.

Stepped into my waiting cab, shaking with adrenaline and
thinking how glad I am that Meredith decided to stay with Anya
this weekend. Have never needed a drink with the girls more
than I do right now.

Look out, DC. Here I come…


A/N: I know this took a really loooong time for me to post. This
chapter has been a hard one to get past. First, I was sick, then all
kinds of RL B.S. flopped down on me. On top of that, I couldn’t
seem to get this chapter to work to my satisfaction. So after
much fighting with it, I decided to think of this as a transitional
chapter — it’s getting us to point B 😉

Thanks so much for hanging in there with me.