Fic: Contageous
Title: Contagious
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Characters: Peter, Mozzie
Word Count: 639
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Season 2 summer finale "Point Blank"
Disclaimer: These characters belong to USA network; I have no illusions to the contrary.
Summary: Peter visits Mozzie after the events of "Point Blank".
Two weeks after he is shot, Mozzie is laying in an uncomfortable hospital bed. The surgery was successful and soon he will be able enough for physical therapy, but right now he is immobilized and bored. Of course the hospital is outside of Neal’s radius and he can’t visit without an escort. “Go FBI,” Moz mumbles to no one in particular.
Suddenly there is a knock at the door. It’s probably just one of the Suits that were sent to watch his door because someone made an attempt on his life. In his condition, there was nothing he could say about the additional protection so he was forced to acquiesce.
Just as he predicted, an ill-fitting and off-colored suit was soon in Moz’s sight. Only this wasn’t just any suit. This was THE Suit. After Peter was inside the room, Moz looked behind him to see if anyone else was with him. No such luck.
Peter has not seen Mozzie since the day it happened. Despite their somewhat odd, sometimes forced camaraderie, Peter didn’t want to impose on a man who wouldn’t like his company even if he didn’t have a gaping hole in his chest.
Peter takes a seat next to the bed. “Listen Mozzie, I am really sorry about what happened to you. This never should have happened. I didn’t know you would get hurt.”
Mozzie will never understand how a Fed’s mind works. He wasn’t sure why the Suit was taking responsibility. Although there was probably a martyr complex that came attached to each badge.
“Listen Suit. I blame you and your fellow blind followers of the capitalistic, industrial complex for many things. You impose your imperialist rules on people trying to make a living and survive for one. But what happened to me isn’t your fault. Part of being your own man is being accountable for your own actions. To put this in words your federal ears can understand, I don’t report to anyone, so no one reports to me either. With that comes a certain freedom which can sometimes lead to situations such as these. It can’t be helped.”
“But if you are accountable to other people, they are accountable to you too. You could be safer.”
“The strings aren’t worth it. There are many ways to get hurt, numbers don’t always matter.”
Mozzie stops for a second and then he continues, “There is something you can do. You could back up a bit. I can smell the deviled ham on your breath and your arms are lingering a bit too close to the bed. I definitely do not want to come into bodily contact with the suit.”
Peter obliges, but not without an annoyed look on his face. “They’re just clothes Mozzie. I am not contagious.”
“That’s just what they want you to think. The ugly suits are a behavior modification technique used by the man,” Mozzie states matter-of-factly.
“Of course it is,” Peter sighs. “If it’s so contagious, then why isn’t Neal affected?”
“His impeccable style acts as protection. But make no mistake; he’s affected. He is a romantic though, it wasn’t that hard for you to woo him with your noble deeds and your so called honest work.”
Peter scoffs, “I didn’t woo Neal. Wait, why am I arguing about this? No good can come from this argument. Whether you want the help or not, two agents will be stationed at the door and I will be back to check on you.”
“Whatever suit. Do what you gotta do. I won’t hold your brainwashed actions against you. Just know that I am ambivalent about this. I am my own man.”
“No one in the world would doubt that Moz. See you tomorrow.”
“If that’s what makes you happy Suit,” Mozzie says to Peter’s retreating figure as he leaves the hospital room.
Rating: G
Genre: Gen
Characters: Peter, Mozzie
Word Count: 639
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Season 2 summer finale "Point Blank"
Disclaimer: These characters belong to USA network; I have no illusions to the contrary.
Summary: Peter visits Mozzie after the events of "Point Blank".
Two weeks after he is shot, Mozzie is laying in an uncomfortable hospital bed. The surgery was successful and soon he will be able enough for physical therapy, but right now he is immobilized and bored. Of course the hospital is outside of Neal’s radius and he can’t visit without an escort. “Go FBI,” Moz mumbles to no one in particular.
Suddenly there is a knock at the door. It’s probably just one of the Suits that were sent to watch his door because someone made an attempt on his life. In his condition, there was nothing he could say about the additional protection so he was forced to acquiesce.
Just as he predicted, an ill-fitting and off-colored suit was soon in Moz’s sight. Only this wasn’t just any suit. This was THE Suit. After Peter was inside the room, Moz looked behind him to see if anyone else was with him. No such luck.
Peter has not seen Mozzie since the day it happened. Despite their somewhat odd, sometimes forced camaraderie, Peter didn’t want to impose on a man who wouldn’t like his company even if he didn’t have a gaping hole in his chest.
Peter takes a seat next to the bed. “Listen Mozzie, I am really sorry about what happened to you. This never should have happened. I didn’t know you would get hurt.”
Mozzie will never understand how a Fed’s mind works. He wasn’t sure why the Suit was taking responsibility. Although there was probably a martyr complex that came attached to each badge.
“Listen Suit. I blame you and your fellow blind followers of the capitalistic, industrial complex for many things. You impose your imperialist rules on people trying to make a living and survive for one. But what happened to me isn’t your fault. Part of being your own man is being accountable for your own actions. To put this in words your federal ears can understand, I don’t report to anyone, so no one reports to me either. With that comes a certain freedom which can sometimes lead to situations such as these. It can’t be helped.”
“But if you are accountable to other people, they are accountable to you too. You could be safer.”
“The strings aren’t worth it. There are many ways to get hurt, numbers don’t always matter.”
Mozzie stops for a second and then he continues, “There is something you can do. You could back up a bit. I can smell the deviled ham on your breath and your arms are lingering a bit too close to the bed. I definitely do not want to come into bodily contact with the suit.”
Peter obliges, but not without an annoyed look on his face. “They’re just clothes Mozzie. I am not contagious.”
“That’s just what they want you to think. The ugly suits are a behavior modification technique used by the man,” Mozzie states matter-of-factly.
“Of course it is,” Peter sighs. “If it’s so contagious, then why isn’t Neal affected?”
“His impeccable style acts as protection. But make no mistake; he’s affected. He is a romantic though, it wasn’t that hard for you to woo him with your noble deeds and your so called honest work.”
Peter scoffs, “I didn’t woo Neal. Wait, why am I arguing about this? No good can come from this argument. Whether you want the help or not, two agents will be stationed at the door and I will be back to check on you.”
“Whatever suit. Do what you gotta do. I won’t hold your brainwashed actions against you. Just know that I am ambivalent about this. I am my own man.”
“No one in the world would doubt that Moz. See you tomorrow.”
“If that’s what makes you happy Suit,” Mozzie says to Peter’s retreating figure as he leaves the hospital room.