Title: I Hate Diana
Author: Sarah Kiley
E-mail: kileyw@fronteirnet.net
Summary: Somebody’s got it in for Diana . . .
Spoilers: Biogenesis & everything leading up to it.
Disclaimer: I don’t own The X-Files or any characters, they
belong to CC, 1013 & FOX Productions. No copyright
infringement intended. I do however own a copy of the movie
Home Fries, but I doubt that gives me the right to take bits of
dialogue from the movie. If you haven’t seen it-- please do!
It’s my favorite movie. Besides, Luke Wilson is gorgeous. Oh,
I also don’t own the Green Day song “King for a Day” from
which I also stole lines.
Archive: Anywhere
Classification: SAH. Silliness (and possible stupidity) abound.
Author’s Note: hehe. I’m working on The Locket. Honest.  I
really have no idea where this sprung from. Well, okay, yes I
do, but it’s weird.

All types of feedback welcome!

I Hate Diana (1/1)
by Sarah Kiley
(kileyw@frontiernet.net)

 She’s already taken off her shirt and proceeded down
the hall to his bedroom. She’s slipping off her shoes as she
enters the bedroom, moving lecherously towards the bed.
Mulder smiles rather dreamily at her as she approaches.
 “Scully, I still don’t understand why there are two of
you.”
 She smiles, shaking her head. “It’s okay, Fox. I told
you, I cloned myself in the lab. I can’t take care of you and
run this investigation.” She tosses a hand through her dark
brown hair.
 Mulder is doped up and he is doped up good.
Anybody that could confuse a beautiful woman with someone
that fowl has to be on some serious drugs.
 Yeah, I’ll admit it. I don’t fly that way anymore, but
Scully has a nice ass. Almost as nice as Mulder’s.
 I sigh from my position in the shadows of Mulder’s
bedroom. Diana Fowley really has let herself go. Her ankles
are like a stack of corn beefcakes and someone as old as she
ought to know that beautiful skin takes work.
 Hell, I’m thirty-five and I learned it. Not a blemish
anywhere.
 Not that it matters. It’s all going to hell anyway.
 “Are you going to give me that ‘special present’ you
promised now, Scully?” he pants. From under the covers, I
see the vague outline of what is going to amount to an
impressive erection.
 “Yes, Fox,” she leers.
 He sighs contentedly. “Good. I’ve dreamed of this,
Scully. Night after night, month after month-”
 “Shut up now, Fox,” she says coldly.
 “Hey, Scully, why’reya calling me Fox? You know I
hate that name. That bitch Diana used to call me that all the
time. Fox, this, Fox, that. Nag nag nag.”
 “Shut the fuck up now, Fox, or I will put my clothes
on and go home.”
 He pouts, that lickable lower lip jutting out. “Don’t
go home, Scully. I want you so bad. I’ve been saving myself
for you, Scully-”
 “Shut up, Fox!” she exclaims, patience waning.
 His mouth closes immediately.
 Satisfied, she begins to strip down in front of the
window, wearing . . .
 MY GOD!
 My thong! My leather thong!
 THAT BITCH!
 I got that thong for Christmas from Jeffrey!
 It’s my favorite!
 I watch her coo over Mulder, leaning down, and
letting her breasts spill from her bra onto his face. Lord,
woman, don’t suffocate the man!
 From my vantage point, she is silhouetted by the
blinds.
 And as she leans over him, she resembles a big hairy
black ant.
 The Queen Ant.
 I might be a princess by dawn, but right now, I am
king for the day!
 And it’s time to get Diana the hell out of my leather
thong.
 I spring from Mulder’s bathroom and hear her cry of
shock as I fly over the bed, remembering my Judo lessons
perfectly. I topple her to the ground. Mulder sits up, moaning.
“Scully?!”
 Three swift kicks and the bitch is on her back.
 She looks up at me, surprise, horror and shock
rippling through her features. “What are you doing?”
 My eyes become slits. “That’s my favorite thong,
bitch. I told you to STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM MY
LINGERIE DRAWER!”
 Tears form in her eyes; I’m pretty sure it’s because
my heel is on her throat and her face is turning purple.
 “I promise, I won’t go in there anymore, Krycek.
Please . . . .” she coughs.
 I snort and kick her in the head. She falls
unconscious. Wuss.
 I sigh, looking back at Mulder as I run a hand
through my hair and straighten my leather jacket with my
good arm.
 “Women.”

The End.

Whadidja think? All feedback welcome.
kileyw@frontiernet.net
--
Sarah Kiley
-----
"Marvin's favorite fantasy was to be born as Fox Mulder
in his next life and have sex with his partner."
-Christopher Pike, "The Burning Witch"
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-- seen on a SKipper page.

"Unlike serial killer profiling, writing is a very lonely,
and depressing profession."
-Jose Chung, "Jose Chung's 'Doomsday Defense'"