Dana Scully's Diary

Part 6/?

By Piper Sargasso

Headers in part one

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~ Getting Some Back ~

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~ Sunday 23, February

Times vowed to quit drinking: 6,  Number of phone calls to Mulder: 3 (all unanswered), Number of times scrubbed bathroom: 3 (always helps when I'm upset. V. strange.)

Spent whole of yesterday nursing severe headache. Am convinced was brought on by all this stress am going through, rather than the eight Singapore Slings consumed Friday night.

Was fun, all in all. Really must do it again. Kimberly is great, though don't think Amber quite warmed up to me. Have sneaking suspicion she's another of Mulder's conquests, and therefore, not v. appreciative of my presence. Nevertheless, can recall in appalling detail pronouncing my unending friendship and newfound love for the woman. Am thinking should never drink again, since can't seem to keep from thoroughly embarrassing self.

Small details keep coming to me, of what Kimberly said regarding Vile Tom's plight in Skinner's office. Was much shouting and menacing remarks on Skinner's part, am told. Believe her exact words were, "He went ballistic on that creep."

Hurrah! Walter Skinner is my new hero. Kimberly said when Vile Tom emerged from office, was shaken and pale.

God, what I wouldn't have given to see that...

(2:48 PM)

Humph! Have called Mulder to see if he's planning to show up for work tomorrow, also to see if he'd like to go to dinner. Would like to clear up this misunderstanding. Cannot believe stubborn silence and disinterest in hearing me out has gone this long, but then, Mulder was never known for his communication skills wherever I'm concerned. Unless, of course, a conspiracy or X-File is involved.

This is somehow worse than before. Can't even be bothered to pick up the phone? Have had it with his childish behavior.

(3:24 PM)

Finally got a call, but wasn't Mulder. Caller ID displayed "unknown name, unknown number," which can only mean the Gunmen. Sighed and picked up phone anyway, thinking they might have some news.

"Hello."

"Heya, Chickadee."

"Frohike."

"Don't sound so excited."

"Actually," winced at what was about to say, "I was hoping you'd call."

"Missed me, huh?" he said cheekily. "Can't say I'm surprised. I am at your service, m'lady."

Rolled eyes. "Pshaw. You're nuts, you know that? What do you know about Mulder? Is he still at home?"

Heard uncomfortable shifting on other end. "Yeah, he's still there. Look, Darlin', he's really pissed at you right now."

Huffed in irritation. "Yes, I've gathered that. Yet he isn't making it very easy for me to explain the situation, now is he?" Felt self getting angry.

"Well--"

"And how dare he, anyway? As if I should explain myself to him! He's not my husband, you know. I don't need to answer to him. And I never asked him to hit Vile Tom in the first place."

"Vile Tom?" he laughed.

"Nothing happened between us. Everyone knows Vile Tom is a liar, and if they don't it's because they have their heads too far up his ass to see it for themselves!"

Took several deep breaths, embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Hey, it's okay," he said softly. "Just let him cool off and everything will get back to normal. Then, if you still want to, you can tell him what really happened. For what it's worth, I told Mulder he was insane to think you would keep this from him out of spite. I know you had your reasons."

Could've hugged the dear little man! At least someone is in my corner.

"So… What kind of underwear are you wearing?"

Hmm… maybe not.

 ~ Monday 24, February

Number of partners: 0, Number of times called (non-existent) partner: 0 (wouldn't give him the satisfaction), Number of stunning career moves embarked on in partner's absence: - 0 (v. v. bad decision has been made.), Violent fantasies involving Vile Tom's utter demise: 38, Alcohol units: 4 (but in-flight, so is okay.)

(10:01 AM)

Still no Mulder. Am incensed -- is obvious he's using sick days to ride out time of his suspension. What? Why? I don't understand. Suppose he thinks he's making a point.

No matter, have decided to strike back! No more little white gloves for this agent. Am taking a case out of Mulder's "B.S." bin -- a case even Spooky himself was ready to toss in the trash. Is a ridiculous case, really, slightly reminiscent of the one we took Florida with the carnies. Only there are no deaths. And no escaped, conjoining, murderous twins. Reading the casefile, am struck with overwhelming need to laugh. Reads like a script for "Scooby Doo and the Haunted Tilt-O-Whirl." 

Plan to be out of town for remainder of work week. Warms my heart to know Mulder will have to sit here while I go off on my own for a change. Take that! Har har.

Oooh! Must dash. Plane leaves in three hours.

(7:07 PM)

Oh, God. What have I gotten myself into?

~ Tuesday 24, February

Minutes skin has spent crawling: upwards of 672, Time spent plotting Vile Tom's demise: 0 (who has the time?), Time spent plotting Arrogant git of a partner's demise: 825 (ah, always have plenty of time for that)

Oh, God. This was definitely a bad idea. Started out strange and just got gradually worse. Have been pawed by the Elephant Woman and shuffled off onto the Tilt-O-Whirl against my will, which started up and spun at high velocity. Was sick all over ground afterwards, as carnies gathered in a circle and watched.

"So, whaddya think, Ma'am?" The talker (have been told is incorrect to call them 'barkers' now) for Penguin Man (who, by the way, really does look like a penguin) asked. The others stared in silence.

Was mortified to be puking guts up while others congregated, as if was some spectacular event. Straightened and tried to maintain some semblance of dignity. "Er, yes. Well, is it supposed to be that fast?" Fought rising bile back down.

The man spat on ground and seemed to ponder the question. "Well, Ma'am, I'd say no." Looked at godawful contraption with look between awe and respect. "I expect that ride's haunted."

Great. V. helpful. Had to remind self more than once that was my brilliant idea to take this case on. Damn it all!

Was semi-forced to have dinner with everyone in a tent rather than go back at motel, where I could die of humiliation in peace. Was v. interesting -- found out facts about lycanthropes never would've known. However, one calling himself "Wolfman" (how original) seemed intent on convincing me in great detail how many of them get extra frisky just before the full moon. Edged away, a bit miffed on behalf of people suffering this disease the world over.

Was squashed between "Wolfman" and a female contortionist named, strangely enough, Vernon. Woman has tiniest teeth I've ever seen, much like a piranha, and the face of Arnold Schwartzenegger. Uncanny resemblance, really. Wore an all-white body leotard, which accentuated painfully skinny, but agile body. Was horrified just after a dwarf called "Stumpy" served us all and felt Vernon gazing at me. Turned to see what she wanted and was met with lustful stare.

Will NOT mention where she put her hand under the table later in the meal. Am blocking it out of mind as I write this.

Wonder, is getting back at Mulder worth this?

(11:39 AM)

Oh God. Wilson (the talker for the Penguin Man) has just stopped by to give me romantic advice.

"Look, I know you're this big time FBI agent and you'll be gone in a couple-a days."

Was confused but nodded, trying to figure out where the hell was going with this.

"Right. Here's the thing -- Vernon's a sensitive soul. Be gentle with 'er. She gets her heart broken so easily." Patted my hand, wiped tear from corner of his eye and left.

Oh. My. GOD.

That's it. Am going back to DC tomorrow.

(2:24 PM)

Okay, have endured goo-goo eyes from Vernon all day while attempting to figure out what's going on with their…god, it pains me to even write it…haunted ride. Not only that, but entire acrobat act seems to have been enlisted in the effort. Was doing flips and all manner of tumbling around the three of them who carried her in the center while she held a sign with the v. large letters "F.B.I" written in gold glitter. Sat there for an hour with expressionless face as they tumbled around her and I attempted to ignore whole spectacle. Was v. creepy.

I need a drink. Will go back to motel, take a hot bath and find a decent bar as soon as I can prove this is mechanical failure of some sort.

(9:30 PM)

Aggghhh!!!!!!!!!!

Found only bar in town and settled in for nice Cosmopolitan when who should appear but Vernon! Sat on stool next to me and stared as I uncomfortably attempted to sip my drink and ignore her attentions. Didn't say a word -- has NOT said a word to me at all, in fact. Was even in her regular attire of white body leotard, only with a pink marabou-trimmed housecoat. Left as soon as drink was finished and got the hell out of there.

Am putting chair up against doorknob in motel room as added precaution.

~ Wednesday 25, February

Tears of joy: a million (all metaphorical), Number of partners: 1, Number of words spoken between partner and self: 2 (troubling)

Sighed in relief as I plopped down into my wonderful chair in our glorious, wondrous office. Love this place. Love makeshift desk and jars of questionable things in formaldehyde and stupid "I Want to Believe" poster on wall.

Humph. Seems Mulder finally made it back. Didn't speak to me as I entered the room and made myself comfortable, but raised an eyebrow in question.

"Don't ask," I told him, and settled in to print report off my laptop.

God, it's great to be back.

TBC!

A/N: The phrase "No more little white gloves" comes from "All I Wanna Do." Cute movie. Again, thanks to Logan, this time for helping me remember where I got the quote from.

And as always, thanks to all of you who have reviewed/sent feedback! I never dreamed so many people would like this story, but I'm incredibly glad you do.