Title: Three Nights, One Morning
Author: Larilyn
Rating: NC-17
Classification: V/R/A
Spoilers: Empedocles, This Is Not Happening
Keywords: DRR
Summary: Three nights in the lives of Doggett and Reyes, Reyes POV.
Disclaimer: Doggett & Reyes belong to CC and 1013. Not mine, never will be.
E-mail/Website: Larilyn1@hotmail.com/ www.geocities.com/larilyn1975
Archive: Anywhere, just let me know


The First Night

/Don't get emotional. Don't get involved. Too damn late. I can't believe
I'm sitting here in this motel room crying my eyes out over a boy I've ne
ver met. Not alive, anyway./

/God! Stop it, Monica. That's not helping, now, is it?/

/Shit, it's too late to help anyway. He's dead, Mon. Dead./

She rises from the bed with its worn out bedspread and stops in front of
the bathroom mirror.

/You look like shit, Monica./

She splashes cold water on her face to wash away the tears, to wash away
the lies, to wake up.

/Let's be honest with yourself, dear. You're not crying over the boy, now
 are you?/

/No, you're crying over the boy's father./

/Don't get emotional. Don't get involved./

She hears a tentative knock on the door. She wipes the water off her face
 with a white terry cloth towel.

She opens the door to reveal the one person she never expected to see. He
 was still wearing his suit. His tie was loosened and the top button undo
ne. His face was tired.

"Agent Reyes. I... I don't know what I'm doing here."

/Say something Monica. Say something./

"Come in."

He stands in the middle of the room. Lost. Confused. Standing there looki
ng as if he doesn't know where he is.

/Say something./

"Are you all right, Detective?"

/Of course he's not all right./

"No. I... I needed to talk to someone. My wife. She went to her mother's.=
 I didn't know where else..."

"Its all right Detective. Sit down."

He sits on her bed.

"I wanted to say, 'I'm sorry', Agent Reyes. I 'm sorry I fought you so mu
ch."

"Its ok, Detective."

"John. Call me John."

"John."

/John./  

/You're in over your head here, Monica. Way over your head./

"Can I stay here? I can't go home. I can't" he begins to sob.  

/He's not the type who cries easily. He didn't cry at the scene. Why is h
e crying here? Why did he seek the comfort of the one person he had seeme
d to disdain the most?/

She wraps her arms and rocks him to sleep. Memorizing his scent. Memorizi
ng the way he feels in her arms.

/Don't get emotional. Don't get involved./



The Second Night

/Jesus, poor Scully. Mulder must have meant more to her than anyone had r
ealized. I wonder... were they more than partners?/

/Well, it doesn't matter now, Monica. We found him only to lose him./  

She flips on the TV.  

/Nothing on but the news. FBI Agent found dead. Jesus. Poor Scully. Poor
John. Poor me. Here I am again, mourning over someone I've never met, all
 because of the pain it causes one man./

/He brought me in to find someone and once again, I've failed him. I want
ed so badly not to fail him./

/Leave the past in the past, Monica. That's what he asked./  

He is knocking on her door. She knows it is him.

"John."

"Monica. Can I...?"

"Yeah, come in."

He sits down on her bed.

/"John. Call me John."/

"How's Agent Scully?"

"Assistant Director Skinner is staying with her."

"How are you?"

He looks up at her. Despair flashes in his eyes.

/Blue eyes. Beautiful blue eyes./

"Me? I'm fine."

She sits down next to him and places her hand on his knee.

"You sure?"

/Leave the past in the past, Monica./

"I'm fine. Didn't even know the man."

"You're not fine, John."

/Leave the past in the past./

His eyes lock with hers.

"I promised I'd find him."

"You did."

"Alive, Dammit! I promised her I'd bring him home alive!"

/The same promise that I had made him. No one can keep that kind of promi
se, now can they?/

"John."

She pulls him to her. This time he doesn't cry. He just holds onto her. S
he loses herself in his embrace.

/Falling for the boy's father. Falling into those damn blue eyes./

/Leave the past in the past./



The Third Night

"Where are we going?"

She looks out the car window. Lost in the strange city.

"My place. Unless you'd rather go to your hotel."

/Your place. My hotel. Way over my head./

"This isn't really necessary."

/I can't breathe./

"You have a concussion. You need to be watched."

He pulls into his driveway. Together, they enter the house.

/It smells like him. The whole damn house smells like him. Way over my he
ad./

"You want a drink or something, Monica?"

"No, I'm fine."

"How's your head?"

"Bit of a headache."

"I bet."

He hands her a glass of water and an aspirin.

/How sweet. I didn't ask for this. He just knew I needed it. How much els
e does he know?/

"John, I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

/Is this you? Is this you looking into this?/

"No you're not"

"What?"

"You're not sorry."

He smiles at her.

/Way over my head./

"I'm sorry if I caused you any pain, John. I'm sorry for digging..."

"S'okay. You were just trying to help."

/Leave the past in the past./

He makes her dinner. Makes small talk. People they know. People they knew
. People who come back from the dead.

"John, are you ok?"

"Yeah. Just thinking..."

/About Luke/

"About Katha Dukes."

She takes his hand without saying a word. Eyes meet again. Blue and brown
.  

He rubs his thumb across her hand.

/Way over my head./

"Monica."

His eyes bore into hers.

/Pull away. Pull away now. Don't get emotional. Don't get involved./

/Oh God but I want emotional. I want involved. I want physical, spiritual
. I want it all./

Her eyes drop first. She pulls her hand away. She swallows.

"How's Agent Scully?"

He rises to clear the dishes.

"Good. She's good."

"Good."

John sets a dish in the sink and turns to her.

"You've never stopped have you?"

"Stopped what?"

"Looking for my son's killer."

She drops her gaze to the floor.

"No, I've never stopped."

He takes her hand again. With the other he pulls her chin up. Forcing her
 to look into his eyes.

"Thank you."

/Way over my head./

His lips gently brush hers.

/Oh God./

She slides her hands up around his neck. Presses her body to his. She inh
ales his scent.

"Monica."  

He breathes her name into her mouth.

/You're losing control, Monica./

/So what if I am./

His hands nimbly undo her blouse buttons. The blouse falls to the floor.
He caresses her back, her neck, her face.

She removes his shirt. Her fingers glide over his chest, his back. They s
top at his belt buckle.

"Are you sure about this, Monica?"

/Way over my head./

"I'm sure."

He guides her to his bedroom.

Upstairs, he pushes her down unto the bed. She looks up at him, diving in
to the icy depths of his blue eyes.

"You're so beautiful, Monica." He breathes as he eases himself down next
to her.
  
"Touch me, John."

/Emotional./

His hands caress her breasts while he kisses her, his tongue stroking her
s.

She reaches behind her back and unfastens her bra, giving his fingers bet
ter access. Instead, he withdraws his mouth from hers and begins to tease
 her nipples with his tongue.

/Oh God!/

Monica moans with pleasure and arches her back.

/Oh God, stop teasing and take it all./

He takes her entire breast in his mouth and begins to suckle as her hands
 move through his hair.

"Oh, John. God." She breathes.

/This can't be happening. It has to be a dream./

He stops lavishing attention on her breasts and kisses his way down her b
elly. He unfastens her pants and she wriggles out of them. He begins to k
iss her through the silky fabric of her panties.

/Oh please don't let me wake up./

He tugs down the offending garment and begins to lap at her. And she crie
s out in ecstasy.

"John," she breathes. "I want you inside me."

/I need you inside me./

He sheds his pants quickly and stops to look at her before they join.

"I love you, Monica." He admits breathlessly.

"I love you too, John."

/Involved./

He pushes inside her and she cries out, clinging to him like a life prese
rver. She rakes her nails down his back and he moans.

The move together in their own private rhythm until he collapses, both of
 them spent.



One Morning

She awakens next to him. His arm clutched in her grip like a teddy bear.
Her lips resting on his shoulder.

He is already awake. Watching her sleep.

"Mornin."

"Good morning."

"You okay?"

"I'm perfect."

/Emotional, involved./

/Way over my head./

/Fallen completely for the boy's father./

FIN