Dana Scully's Diary

By Piper Sargasso

Feedback: Oh, could you? Please?!? PiperSargasso@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.

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