Dana Scully's Diary Part 4/?
By Piper Sargasso
Disclaimers, etc. in part one.
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~The Lies Men Tell~
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~ 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 recognition.
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 happened?
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 evening.
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 animal.
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 him."
"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)
SHIT!!!!!!
(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 possible.
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 suspension?"
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 screw 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 out.
"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.
TBC
A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! You've made this writing experience so much fun. Thank you for that.