Journal of Journeys: Unusual Suspects
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Title: Journal of Journeys I--Unusual Suspects
Authors: Jo and Bob Chidester
E-mail: whrosegarden@netexpressway.com and/or bchidest@nike.heidelberg.edu
Rating: VL/BV/BS
Category:
Spoilers: Unusual Suspects
Keywords: Pre-XF
Summary: Ruminations of our favorite agents around the time of Unusual
Suspects
DISCLAIMER: We are not committing copyright infringement, dammit!
Although, maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing if we were, because at
least then we'd be making some money. Of course, we also wouldn't be so
brazen as to post it to something as well-known as Gossamer. Anyway, we
suppose we have to say "Please don't sue us! Please please please!" You
all know who owns them, and if you don't, you shouldn't be reading fanfic.
FEEDBACK: Well, it would be nice. That's what the e-mail addies up there
are for.
ARCHIVING: Anywhere, I guess (I haven't really checked this with Jo,
so I'm not entirely sure, but if it turns out she doesn't want that, don't
worry, she'll chew me up and spit me out, not you). Let us know, though.
Dedication: Jo would like to thank KateV2 for inspiration. Bob
knows that it would be polite to thank someone, but he honestly can't
think of anyone who has inspired him (not on this particular story,
anyway).
Ok, now that we've gotten through all that formal garbage, here's a little
explanation. Jo wrote a story that was a journal for Scully written just
after the events of Gethsemane. She had been thinking of writing one for
each episode. I, in my naivete, asked if Mulder got entries too. Jo
decided that we would collaborate on this series--a series of journal
entries for Mulder and Scully after each episode. We decided it would
make sense to do the episodes in basic chronological order, so Unusual
Suspects came first. Now, you might be thinking, but Scully wasn't in
that episode. Well, too bad. She has a journal entry anyway. And it makes
sense, too. So that's what this is. Enjoy, because Jo and I aren't going
to write installments for every episode for nothing.
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Journal of Journeys
by Jo and Bob C. Chidester
Diary of Dana K. Scully
May 13th, 1989
Wow, it's been awhile since I've had time to write. Two months . .
. I can't believe I've been that busy.
I don't know what rules there are for skipping periods of time in
diaries. Probably none, since no-one but the owner/author is supposed to
read them. But I feel obliged to at least give the highlights of the
missing time.
Aside from rotations, (blah, blah, since I already covered that
topic Enough) not much has happened in the last couple of months. Bill
stopped for a weekend and scared off the one date I've had in six months.
Then Mom and Ahab drove down, took Clara and I to dinner. It was nice to
get a real meal for a change. And then Charlie visited.
I love Charlie, I really do, but this informal relationship he
and Clara have going will drive me nuts. They say it's nothing serious
and then I walk in on them half-dressed on the couch. He's my
little brother!!! And Clara's my best friend!! Erg!
Anyhow, I just got back from the graduation ceremonies for this
year's crop of doctors. Lionel graduated, heading for NY. I'm glad
I won't have to deal with him anymore. I hated that nickname,
Skulls, and Clara hated being called Cake.
Leslie graduated, too, but she's not headed for any hospitals or
private practices. I can't believe she joined the FBI. Her dad looked
like he was about to have an MI when she told him. I can't imagine my
parents' faces if I ever told them such a thing.
Not like I ever would. By all my professors' accounts, I have a
brilliant and successful career ahead of me. Dr. Pardis said he'd be
looking for journal articles by me in a couple of years -- under the
title of Associate Director of the AMA. I told him I thought there was
an age requirement for that position. He was sure it could be waived.
Anyhow, I have been accepted for my residency in forensic path-
ology. I even got a position in commuting distance so I don't have to
move. All I'll be doing for right now is assisting on procedures, and
probably not interesting ones at that. Being inexperienced, I'll get to
help with GSUs and natural causes that have basically already been
determined. I'd really like to get a first-hand look at some
of the post-mortem indications of those rare text book cases, like
Creutzfeldt-Jacob. Maybe in the second part of the year.
May 14th, 1989
If anyone ever said that med. students don't know how to party,
they were wrong. 'Doctor' Seth Tralan threw a grad bash at his parents'
beach house. I'm glad my residency started today, so I had a good excuse
not to drink. There were plenty of pounding heads and worshippers of the
porcelain god this morning, courtesy of that party. I'm hoping there
weren't any bad accidents last night, nasty way to start a career.
Anyhow, I ended up talking with Leslie in a corner. Somehow,
our conversation ended up about the FBI; why she'd joined, what attracted
her, etc. It was really very interesting. She had some really good
reasons. For one, she'll receive a starting salary of $40,000 plus
general living stipend, which will help her pay off her school loans. It
might not be as much money as your friendly neighborhood general practic-
ioner, but then he also probably started out making less.
After a couple of beers, Leslie got rambling on the insurance
program. The job doesn't sound very interesting, but the benefits are
superb! And, according to Leslie, it's not a job you're likely to get
down-sized on.
At about four beers, she finally got to the real reason she
joined. The agent she'd talked to was apparently drop-dead gorgeous.
Dark hair falling over his forehead, bright green eyes, tall, and
"tooootally built." Whatever. I can't imagine making such an important
decision based on the physical appeal of one other employee. Anyhow, the
day has been super long, so it is time for me to go to bed. I work again
at nine tomorrow, and I'd like to take a jog and shower before hand.
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May 20, 1989
Wow. I've never done this before. Even when Sam was taken. Especially
when Sam was taken. I don't expect this to be a regular thing, either.
No entry for every single day, week, month or even year. This will
very probably be a one-time deal. I just feel that I have to write
this down before I forget it or lose interest or they get me (ha ha--
this'll make sense later on--in case I actually do ever forget). So
here goes nothing.
This certainly takes the cake for the weirdest case I've ever had. It
started out simply enough, just find and take into custody one Suzanne
Modeski, chemist-turned-paranoiac murderer. Hey, I work in VCS, viol-
ent suspects are nothing new. So, I start tracking her. I end up at
a communications convention. All fine and good so far. Lots of
techno-geeks and weird losers actually trying to sell pirated cable.
To a government agent, no less! Christ, I guess these people aren't as
smart as they say they are.
I didn't make this connection at first, but I ran into a couple of
these guys in a hallway (one of them was actually the same guy who
tried to sell me the cable), and they seemed really nervous. At the
time I just passed it off as being scared I'd bust them. Yeah, as if I
have time for such petty wackos.
Anyway, so I was looking for Suzanne Modeski. According to her profile,
she was a very unstable person--just the kind I like. So, after a bit
of walking around trying to look fairly inconspicuos (I'm not sure why,
she certainly knew what I looked like anyway), I followed Ms. Modeski
and--guess who?--a troop of three wackos (two of whom were the ones I
had met in the hallway) to a warehouse. Maybe they weren't so petty,
after all. Anyway, I followed them inside. From this point on, I'm
not too clear on what happened. I had just confronted the intrepid
group of four when suddenly two men in black suits appeared out of no-
where. I tried to order them to drop their guns, but they didn't pay
any attention. Then came the mass of confusion--gun shots, and some
kind of gas. Then I was buried under a pile of boxes.
After awhile, someone lifted one of the boxes. I found myself staring
into a very imposing face. Wait, "very imposing" doesn't do it justice.
It was the kind of face that made me think that this man had just
taken over control of the whole world. From the way he acted, he
probably thought he had. He was definitely in charge, because he
muttered something to the men beside him, who had guns trained on me.
Then he let the box drop again. More darkness for awhile.
Suddenly there was a lot of noise and the box lifted again. By this
time I was shaking pretty badly and had lost any clue I had ever had as
to what was going on. This time it was apparently the police. I was
given my clothes (I have no idea how they had gotten off of me) and
taken to the police station for observation. When I finally came back
to my senses (this last paragraph is stuff I was told later), they
took my report and released me. Naturally, I asked what had happened to
Suzanne Modeski. I knew I had screwed up pretty badly, but I was
hoping that whatever happened to her was satisfactory enough for the
Bureau that I wouldn't be censured or anything. The police didn't have
anything about Suzanne Modeski on their files. Neither did the Bureau.
Naturally I thought this was very odd. After some asking around I was
told that she had been apprehended and I needn't worry about the case
anymore. I also found out that the three wackos who had been with Ms.
Modeski at the warehouse had claimed they had been pulled into the
whole thing by Ms. Modeski and had nothing else to do with it.
Then they had been released. I had seen enough of them to know that
they weren't likely to tell the whole truth to the police in a case
like this. Well, two of them, anyway. The third actually looked like
a regular guy. He even wore a suit!
Well, I thought it might be a good idea to talk to these guys myself.
I was more than very confused, and dammit, I wanted answers. Bad idea.
Now I'm more confused than ever. The general idea behind what these
guys told me was, There is a vast government conspiracy to hide the
truth of its actions from the American people. Now, most people assume
that if you believe in aliens, then you also believe in government
conspiracies. That is simply not true. I believe in aliens because I
saw my sister abducted by them. But a government conspiracy? Come on,
our government is way too inefficient and bureaucratic to be able to
hide anything from the American public. And besides, I personally have
never had any qualms with it. It has taken pretty good care of my
family, certainly. My father was a very important figure in government
once, though I have never been able to tell precisely what it was he
did. And now, of course, I'm a Fed too. So I didn't believe any of
the conspiracy nut stuff.
What these three men told me, however, has gotten me thinking. What if
there really is a government conspiracy, and the bungling slobs we know
and love as politicians are really just a front? The wackos' story
made sense. No matter how many times I've gone over it, I haven't yet
been able to find a single hole in their tale of Suzanne Modeski. I'm
not convinced yet, of course. It takes a lot more than three really
weird-looking guys and one night of confusion to convince me of some-
thing this far-out. But still . . . I can't shake the idea. I don't
know. I just don't know.
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Email: whrosegarden@netexpressway.com
