Character: Dana Scully
Fandom: The X-Files
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: Midnite: You know the rules of my house. While here you *will* abide by them. (Constantine) Vol4.8.2011 on scifi_muses on LiveJournal
Setting: Season Six Episode: Tithonus

Mulder wasn't a whiz at math, but Scully had been. And she knew for certain that 1849 could not possibly be the date of birth Alfred Fellig. The year 1939 perhaps, but not a date more than 150 years come and gone, not for the streetwise old man who she sat with last night. Something had to be wrong with this, there had to be a mistake, something….

A file snapped in front of her nose and landed on the desk she sat at, her cell phone still in hand.

"I called the judge, she will see me in an hour and I can have a warrant sworn out in another two." Ritter's smug triumph shook Scully out of her circular thoughts and reminded her that she had just told off the officious little prick. She coolly met his gaze.

"So it all works out in the end." He assured her, his earlier anger with her apparently forgotten. Scully, however, had not forgotten her irritation with him.

"Does it?" One eyebrow quirked up at him as the young man's eyes dropped and he cleared his throat, his ears turning a faint pink.

"Look…what I said a few minutes ago, back there. That was uncalled for Dana," he stuttered to a halt when her eyebrow rose even further. "I mean…Scully."

"Quite," she murmured as he turned his gaze suddenly towards the file in front of her.

"Yeah, I mean…in the end we will get the guy. And you were just following your gut instinct, right, tracking down a lead?"

"You mean I wasn't mucking up your case? My reputation hasn't somehow stained your pristine image, Agent Ritter?"

He at least had the decency to look somewhat abashed before he lodged a protest. "Hey, I know I let my mouth fly off the handle there, but I didn't mean…"

"I know exactly what you meant, Peyton." She dropped his first name like ice from her tongue. He cringed. "I know you, I know your type. Perhaps I was your type at one point." Had she ever really been, even when she met Mulder?

"You are an up and comer out of Quantico, I would guess top of your class. You want to be seen and recognized by those higher up than you, and that means taking the tough cases. But you take them to do them right, by the book, to show you are a loyal, company man." Her words obviously hit him smack in the face as he reared back ever so slightly at her accurate description.

"You have eyes for a nice, cushy spot, perhaps an AD position if not deputy, and you figure if you can cut your teeth on some high profile cases and show the higher ups you can do it, you'll climb that much higher. Except you snagged a case you couldn't quite handle alone, it was too strange, just too different. By the book didn't quite cut it. And so you took an offer from an assistant director that was too good to refuse. He offered to have you work with an agent who had experience with these cases, who had worked outside of the book. She could give you insights so you can make a quick bag and tag, close up your case, and make everyone look good. And in exchange for rehabilitating this once promising agent into normal, FBI society, this assistant director would put in a good word for you with the people he knew. But, he did warn you this agent had a reputation, one that could ruin you if you let it get out of line. And yet you agreed to it, a calculated risk, so that you could get what you wanted, just as long as I didn't go about making you look bad."

She rose quietly from the desk, staring down the younger agent as she did so. "Of course the truth of what was happening never occurred to you. And it didn't really matter why those deaths were happening, or what Alfred Fellig really had to do with it, or any of that, because in the end this is about you and your position…isn't it?"

If she had stabbed him in the gut and twisted she didn't think she could have cut any more deeply. Ritter's face twisted with conscience and annoyance that she had pegged him so rightly. "I wanted to catch this guy, that's all. You went against protocol, you were on a stake out and you ignored it."

"Sure, I did," she admitted, not feeling sorry for it in the least. "Because at the end of the day Fellig knew I was there. He came out and found me. And I figured rather than pulling the 'by-the-book' procedures and alienating him further, why don't I try some real investigative work and figure out what is happening here. I didn't rely on the words of a convicted felon who would do anything to keep himself out of prison."

"So you don't think he did it?" Ritter was trying desperately to turn this away from him. The hell she would let that happen.

"Ritter, there are a ton of things I think about this case, not a damn one of them would you ever understand." She picked up the form between her fingers. "Make your arrest, do what you feel is right, but I don't think that the evidence you have now is enough to stand up in court, especially given your witness."

"He was at those other crime scenes Dana…I mean…" He stuttered again, flushing an angry red as he realized he'd faltered on her name again.

"And that's another thing, Peyton," she snapped, tossing the form at him. He snagged it before it fell to the floor. "Why the forced intimacy of my first name? Did you hope I would somehow become your fast, new buddy? Go along with whatever you said if you called me Dana and made me feel special?"

"No," he retorted, shrugging. "I don't know, it's your first name, how was I supposed to know you didn't like it."

"I love my name," she corrected him. "My mother calls me that, my brothers call me that, and my late father and sister called me that. But when I'm at work I am a professional. I am not your girlfriend, your buddy, or your friend. I am Special Agent Scully, just as you are Special Agent Ritter, and I am not here to be your friend or help you climb a corporate ladder. And I'm certainly not here to allow you to step on me as you climb to the top. I am here to find the truth about why Alfred Fellig was at all of these scenes."

Scully stepped around her desk, her eyes trained on Ritter as she stepped within inches of his chest, looking up at him. "And I suggest, Agent Ritter, that if you really want to make a difference in your life and that of those around you, you think long and hard about the course you are taking. Think about what is important to you in this job; consider what those in power are asking of you. And then ask yourself what sort of agent…what sort of man do you really want to be."

He hardly breathed as she pulled away from him, her heels turning as she made her way out of the office. She had to get to Fellig before Ritter did. It would take him two hours at the very least to get to him. That would give her some time to figure out exactly what was going on.

"Is he worth it, Scully?"

Ritter's use of her last name surprised her enough to turn around to his call just as she reached the door. He was angry, yes, but curious. "Is Mulder worth all that you've thrown way by being loyal to him over the Bureau?"

Did he really believe that was what it all came down to? For the briefest of moments Scully felt true pity for this young man. In so many ways he reminded her of a young Tom Colton, just as full of himself, just as ambitious, and just as afraid of the things that Fox Mulder represented. "What Mulder is doing, what he represents, what he knows…yes, that is worth it."

"And him? Are you willing to throw everything away to stick by his side?"

"I've done it before," Scully murmured quietly. She left Ritter, thoughtful, as she made her way downstairs to search for Fellig.