| Title: We All Make Mistakes Author: DM E-mail: [email protected] Feedback: It keeps me writing, so if that�s what you want� Please! Rating: PG Category: V, R Key words: Mulder/Scully Romance Spoilers: Tithonus, Young at Heart Disclaimer: Not mine; they belong to 1013 Productions, FOX, and most importantly, David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. Summary: �I�ve spent the last couple of days, lying here in this bed, trying to come to terms with what happened. With Fellig, with Agent Ritter, with the fact that I almost died.� Notes: This is the fourth vignette in a series that follows Mulder and Scully through the episodes in Season 6, beginning with Rain King. It�s safe to say that it may be read on its own, but the series goes as follows: �Kroner� �Georgetown� �One Simple Kiss� �We All Make Mistakes� They may all be found here: http://www.geocities.com/dmldr42/fanfiction.html And, thank you to Carol A for the beta! Without her, this thing would still be a mess! All of my other stories may be found at my website: http://www.geocities.com/dmldr42 We All Make Mistakes By DM He enters my room just after Agent Ritter leaves. I suspect that he�s been waiting for us to finish, and it�s not until I see the look in his eyes that I know I�m right. He�s angry. He�s trying to look calm. . . rational, but I know him far too well. I wonder if he realizes I can tell. I�ve spent the last couple of days, lying here in this bed, trying to come to terms with what happened. With Fellig, with Agent Ritter, with the fact that I almost died. Looking up at Mulder, I realize those same thoughts and feelings have been fresh on his mind as well. He looks tired, and he probably is. He�s been by my side more often than not the past several days. I want to tell him that I�m all right, that Agent Ritter made a stupid, rookie mistake and, yeah, it hurts a lot, and I�m frustrated that I have to be here, but at least I�m alive. Before I get the chance to talk, he takes my hand and gently toys with my fingers. Immediately I�m calmed with the simple, yet intimate contact. �Coroner�s report came back on Fellig,� he begins. �Says he died of a single gunshot wound. That�s all it said.� I�m not surprised; I never expected anything more from the report. He sits down carefully on the bed, his hip brushing my thigh. He continues, �well, I, uh. . . talked to your doctor and. . . he says you�re doing great. You�re making the fastest recovery he�s ever seen.� He�s trying to control his anger by changing the subject, so I reply as I know he�s hoping I will. We�re known for beating around the bush when it comes to sensitive subjects like this. �Yeah, Mulder, I don�t even know how I entertained the thought. People don�t live forever.� I�m speaking against what I�ve already concluded, and he knows it. It�s all part of the familiar game we play when it gets too hard to talk. �No, no, I. . . I think he would have. I just think that death only looks for you. . . once you seek its opposite.� Then he looks at me, his eyes begging for something more even though he doesn�t have the courage to begin. So, I give in. I need to tell him as much as he needs to hear it. �Mulder, I�m going to be okay.� I squeeze his hand, but don�t break contact. He bows his head, conceding to the new direction our conversation is headed. �Aren�t you upset? How can you not be angry, Scully?� He�s trying hard to keep his anger in check. �What good would it do?� I keep my own voice calm, I need to reassure him. I think he knows I�m right, but he can�t stand that I�m not full of the same contempt that keeps his brow wrinkled with something I would classify as pure, unadulterated hatred. I actually feel sorry for Ritter. If he keeps his job, he�ll have a record that will haunt him for the rest of his career. �Agent Ritter will be dealt with properly, Mulder. I trust the Bureau to handle this.� A sarcastic smile spreads across his lips as he lets out a humorless laugh that tugs at my stomach. My stitches burn from the sensation. He finally looks at me, so I continue, �Ritter made a mistake and he�ll be held accountable for that mistake.� I pause a moment, our eyes connected, �we all make mistakes, Mulder.� He takes a breath and I can tell he�s chewing on the concept before swallowing it whole. His eyes finally soften, although I know he hasn�t bought it completely. Before we�re completely off the subject, I take his other hand in mine. �Promise me, Mulder.� He knows what I�m talking about, but he remains silent, his eyes pleading that I refrain from asking this of him. It�s important to me, so I do my best to ignore the intensity of his gaze. �Promise me you�ll let the FBI deal with Ritter.� He hesitates a moment, trying his best to look halfway appalled that I would even suggest he were capable of such a thing before realizing that, as always, I can see right through his charade. �You drive a tough bargain.� �Good,� relief settles through my body. �Because I don�t need you in the hospital as well.� His eyes sparkle with amusement, �you don�t think I could take him?� I eye him up and down, then do it over again, partially to prove my point and partially because I enjoy what I see. He doesn�t sense my ulterior motive, but reacts just the way I suspected. He whines. �I work out, Scully.� His eyes lower and his lips form a pout that I�ve seen more times than I can count. My attempt to laugh comes out sounding more like a soft cough. I have to be careful, I�m still incredibly sore. He smiles back at my effort, and I can already see the anger dissipating. After six years, I ought to be able to know how to distract my partner. Suddenly he leans in closer and I begin to think perhaps I�ve learned how to distract him much better than I thought I could. �Mulder. . .� I don�t know that this is a good idea. This is new for us. Too new for me to know how to react at the moment. �I missed you,� he says letting one hand brush an errant strand of hair away from my face. My heart is pounding and it sounds so loud I�m afraid Mulder can hear it, as well. His eyes are staring right into mine and in them I see pure and utter truth behind his words. Oh, I�ve missed him, too. �Does this mean you�re feeling bet-� The words fall short from my mouth when his eyes leave mine long enough to briefly glance at my lips. A breath hitches in the back of my throat and as quickly as my reservations came, they�re gone and all that matters is the man sitting here, the man leaning in to kiss me. When he finally does, it�s good. Really good. *** Kissing Scully was, well, a longstanding fantasy suddenly come true, for the second time in the past week, no less. In short, it was incredible. Truthfully, I was waiting for her palm to make direct contact across my face, but as usual, my partner keeps me guessing. I have an enormous amount of pent up frustration and I need to get it out. I promised Scully that I wouldn�t beat Agent Ritter within an inch of his miserable life, which is a shame, because it would be such an easy solution to ease the tension that has my shoulders and neck in one gigantic knot. Keeping true to the pledge I made myself about keeping the promises I make to Scully, I go directly to my hotel room to pick up some workout clothes and head to the hotel gym. Not two seconds after I enter the room, which is positively frigid compared to the comfortable temperature in the hallway, I catch sight of Agent Peyton Ritter running on one of the many treadmills. We�re the only two in the entire room and a part of me wonders if somehow this is a test. He glances up at the sound of the opening door just in time to see me enter. He begins to run harder, faster. �Agent Mulder,� he grunts, out of breath. I don�t reply; I do nothing for fear I won�t be able to control myself. I start to realize the workout I had planned isn�t going to help, not with Agent Ritter in the room. So, like a good little FBI agent, who keeps promises he makes to his partner, I leave and head for the pool. It�s been years since I�ve done laps. Sadly, I start to lose my breath after 10, but I keep on going. I might be older, more stubborn and possibly even more paranoid than I was 3 years ago, but my body is still in tip-top shape. Despite my mental pep-talk, I get out three laps later. I�m a pathetic 12 laps short of my goal. No one has to know, but it certainly isn�t helping to improve my mood. I�m afraid to admit that Scully�s probably right. Ritter *could* kick-- �Agent Mulder?� This guy doesn�t take a hint. I straighten my shoulders and do my best to appear as large and as mean as I can, but my tired panting isn�t helping me create the proper image. The piercing stare I�m projecting ought to make my mood perfectly clear, though. �Excuse me,� I say and head to the Jacuzzi. He falls into step behind me and keeps talking. �Agent Mulder, I. . .� he pauses, stuck for words and I sink into the bubbling hot water of the Jacuzzi, letting the warmth work its magic on my muscles. I lean back, close my eyes and rest my head on the hard tile. A large part of me hopes that Ritter�s magically disappeared. �Agent Mulder, please.� I realize I�m not going to be able to avoid speaking with him, so I turn to face him. �I promised my partner I wouldn�t hurt you, Agent Ritter. So far, so good. Don�t test my patience.� The fear that crosses his face is absolutely priceless and I have to suppress a satisfied smile. �I want to apologize,� Ritter begins anyway, �What I did. . . it was thoughtless. Irresponsible. I�ve made a mistake I�ll regret for the rest of my life, Agent Mulder. . .� he trails off, head bowed and from the way it sounds, on the verge of tears. Oh yeah. I could take him. I remain quiet, however, gloating over my realization. He takes just a moment before he continues, �I want you to know that I�ve spoken with Assistant Director Kersh. I�ve apologized.� He looks away, anywhere but my eyes. �I�m handing in my resignation when I return home.� I�m momentarily caught off guard. The cocky little twit Scully described on the phone is obviously broken now. He�s admitting his mistake and actually doing what he feels is appropriate. He waits, I�m guessing to see if I�ll say anything. When I don�t, he turns. �Anyway, I wanted you to know.� I just sit there, watching him walk away. I still have this unquenchable desire to kick the crap out of him. �You could have killed my partner.� It�s out of my mouth before I realize it. He turns back and suddenly the look in his eyes is enough to tell me I�ve broken my promise to Scully. The man is lower than low and I�ve finished the job by crushing him into nothing. I�m actually ashamed as I watch him leave, but too stubborn to apologize. I let his words mull around my conscious for several moments, then suddenly my mind flashes back to the night I made a similar mistake, costing an agent his life. Barnett didn�t just shoot him, he murdered him. It was my fault. At least Scully is still alive. I still have her. Agent Steve Wallenburg�s wife and kids are still living with their loss. The rising taste of bile in my throat reminds me of the bitterness of humility, and I realize I�ve been humbled yet again. Metaphorically brought to my knees in realization that Peyton Ritter isn�t the first person who�s made a mistake, and he certainly won�t be the last. The world isn�t always pretty, especially the one we work in. We all have demons to overcome. Welcome to the journey, Agent Ritter. *** �Are those for me?� I ask, knowing full well that they are. A dozen red roses, and the color hasn�t gone unnoticed. Red, symbolic of love. �Ready to spring this joint?� He asks, handing the bouquet to me. I don�t think I�ve ever told him how much I love roses, but it doesn�t surprise me that he knows. �I�ve been ready for the past week,� I assure him. I was ready to leave before I even got here. The nurse rolls in a wheel chair and I know it�s hospital policy to wheel me out, but I hate this part the most. �I got it,� Mulder addresses the nurse, who then leaves us alone as I finish gathering my belongings. �I�m not an invalid, Mulder,� I say half serious when we�re alone. �No,� he adds quickly, �you�ve just been shot.� And then, without missing a beat, he changes the subject, �It�ll be good to get home.� So, I follow suit, knowing there�s no arguing the matter, �thank you for the flowers, Mulder. They�re beautiful.� He squeezes my hand, giving me this sad smile that literally begins to break my heart. �What is it?� I can�t take my eyes away from his, for fear I�ll miss something he can�t say. He takes the slightest moment before pulling me gently into an embrace. His hand rests at the back of my head, holding me close. �We all make mistakes,� he whispers. �We all make mistakes.� End. |