After Audrey By: Bobbi Summary: Audrey Pauley post-ep. Imagine if John had chosen admittance over angst-- a much more preferable ending, at least from a dripper's perspective. Keywords: Audrey Pauley post ep, DRR, Doggett/Reyes romance, Reyes, Doggett, Season 9, Audrey Pauley, Doggett POV, Reyes POV, alternating Doggett/Reyes POV Spoilers: Audrey Pauley Rating: NC-17 for sex... eek! But you knew I had to do it sometime... Disclaimer: Sadly enough, the characters I'm using don't belong to me in any way, shape, or form. They are CC's children, but they're my toys! I don't get anything from playing with my toys, either... too bad! They are very fun to play with, though. Feedback: Is a fanfic writer's best motivation-- so send me some at smberens1013@aol.com. Archive: Sure, if you wanna, but drop me a line of notification at the above e-mail. Dedication: For everyone over at Oasis, look what you've done to me! LOL, you know I love you all... but especially for scifi, because she's proved not only a great author, but a good friend, with all of her advice and always having a good enough ear to put up with me! *** Reyes *** You have to give them a sign, Audrey had told me. 'Give them a sign, or they're going to cut you off,' had been her unspoken truth. Cut me off... cut me off how? Where had I been, anyway? It wasn't heaven and it wasn't hell, so maybe it was purgatory. No, that doesn't make any sense, I wasn't dead. Try as I might, I still can't make any sense of the events that happened after the car accident -- where I was, why I was there, how I was there... it reminds me of those near-death experiences that you always hear about on talkshows like Oprah or on the radio, or read about in the spirituality section at your local Barnes and Noble. If I'm correct, though, you're supposed to learn something from near- death experiences, as in there is a reason behind them, that you have that experience and are given the chance to return, that you're supposed to live your life in a different way and make it better. There's a reason you're returned, a life to live, things to teach, people to love... People to love. Now, there's the thing that has me the most confused out of everything. When I was... wherever I was, in Audrey's hospital, in Audrey's reality that she had created so she could live and actually fit in, so she had a place that was all peace and quiet, she told me that my friend -- John -- loves me very much. John loves me? She must have been mistaken, John doesn't love me. My feelings for him, well, that's a whole different story, but there's no way he has feelings for me. It doesn't take a scientist to analyze the way he looks at Dana and tell what he's thinking, and I suppose I cannot, and should not, blame him. He's only human, and he's only male. What man would not find her attractive? She's, well... basically everything that I'm not. She's short and petite and has red hair -- not natural, no *way* is that shade of red anything near natural -- classical features, a delicate face... the kind of woman any man would be glad to scoop up in her arms, savor her kiss, hold her forever... there's times I wonder why I can't be like that, many times, actually. We're all different for a good reason though, and diversity is a good thing, I just wish someone would actually love me for once. Someone like John. Brad claimed to love me, but I know that he never really did. Although it's hard for me to admit because I know he can never love me, I love John. I love John unconditionally, even though I know he doesn't love me back. He's broke my heart a thousand times over, and I'm not even sure that he's aware of it. His blue eyes are deep enough to get lost in, and I'm afraid that's what I've done. John, John, John... why can't you see what you do to me? *** Doggett *** I can see her, she's in there, sitting on the couch, and I can see the TV flashing, so she must be watching something. I really have no clue why I'm still here, my original intention was just to bring her here, bring her back to her apartment, because she shouldn't be driving, not yet -- she's still too weak. Thank *God* she's okay, thank GOD she's alive, I don't know what I would have done if... if I would have lost her. She's done so much for me, and she acts like me what she calls 'saving her life' (which I didn't -- she never would have gotten into that accident if I wouldn't have let her go that night) is a big deal. It's not. I did what I had to do. I did what I was obligated to do. Yet, it was something much more than obligation, something much deeper, something further-reaching... Audrey said I love Monica, and I do. I'm not sure if I was fully aware of the extent of my feelings before she said something, but now, I am. I'm ashamed that it took that whole incident to make me realize what an idiot I've been, how *blind* I've been, how I've been shoving away my feelings -- but most of all, I'm ashamed of what I have not done now, of what I'm not sure how to make myself do now. I need to tell her, I want to tell her, but I don't know how to tell her. Hell, how do you tell your best friend, the rock you've leaned on for years, the woman that found your dead son -- that you love her? That's my problem, I don't know how to. I've ruined one relationship (with Barbara-- God knows I don't want to get into anything like that again), and I would really rather not ruin another. I would much rather just savor what I have, and keep my feelings bottled up inside, but I'm not sure how much longer I can do that. Every time I look at Monica, I don't just see the woman who found my dead son, the woman who's my best friend -- I see the most genuine, loving, caring, feeling, beautiful woman that I've ever known, the woman that I would give more than anything to be loved by. Sometimes I could swear that there's something more than friendship and partnership in her eyes when she looks at me, that there's a little something more, but it's probably just something I want to see. She treats me like something more than a partner though, and at times, something more than a friend. There's always the possibility, though, that I'm just seeing that because I want to, that she's not really interested, I just want her to be... Damn it though, we've been through thick and thin together, and she deserves to know. She deserves to know how I feel, what I feel, who I really feel for. I owe it to her to tell her what I feel, whether I'd like to or not. Although I feel like an idiot for sitting in front of her house in my car all this time, and she'll probably wonder what the hell I'm doing at her door at this ungodly hour, I open the driver's side door and step out, locking the door with the remote control on my keychain. This could take awhile, and this could be interesting... eagerly, and somewhat worryingly, anticipating her reaction, I make my way up to her apartment and lift the knocker, knocking three times and waiting for her to come to the door. I hate to make her get up, she's weak and needs to rest, but this can't wait any longer than it already has. I have to tell her. *** Reyes *** Someone's knocking at the door, at this ungodly hour. For chrissakes, can't anyone get any sleep?! Not that I was really *sleeping*, but at least I was trying to rest... three clear, loud knocks. John knocks that way, but what would John want at this hour? Sighing, I drag my lazy self off the couch and walk over to the door. I then reach for the knob and turn it slowly, having forgotten it's locked. When it doesn't open, I remember, and twist the lock to unlock it, and then open it to come face-to-face with John. "John?" I ask stupidly, too surprised to say anything else at the moment. "What do you need, what's wrong?" "Nothing's *wrong*, Monica..." he replies, studying my face almost intently. "Uh..." I start, confusedly. "Is there something you need, then?" "Can I come in, Monica?" "Sure," I reply, opening the door wider and stepping aside to allow him to come in. He enters, and shuts the door behind him, keeping his eyes on me the whole time. It's... penetrating, alright... his gaze, that is. Why's he staring at me like this? Not that I *mind* him staring at me, it's just... it's awkward. It's so... not like John. "Something you need?" I ask again, almost uneasily. "Yeah, as a matter of fact there is," he replies. "Why don't you come and sit down, and--" "Monica, I love you," he cuts me off. I stare at him silently, in shock for a second, wondering if I just heard what I'm almost positive I heard. "Excuse me, Jo--" "Ah, I always knew there was a chance you didn't feel the same way and I'm sorry, and if I bothered ya, I know you're still not feelin' well, I need to get goin' -" he says, turning toward the door. "No!" I exclaim, putting a hand on his shoulder and turning him around to face me. "That's not it at all..." "Then what is it?" He asks. "It's just that I'm pretty surprised to hear you say what you just said..." "What's so surprising about it?" He asks, studying my face again. "I just never really expected to hear you say that..." "Because you're my partner, and I should have left it there, right?" "No, not that at all, John, I just thought that-" "Thought what?" He asks anxiously. This is really getting to him, I can tell. "Thought that you didn't like me -- in that way..." *** Doggett *** She thought I didn't like her in that way... and I guess I can't blame her. I didn't exactly make it obvious, even to myself, and taking what it did to make me realize how I really feel about her, disappoints me in a way. I've been hiding it for so long, from her and for myself, ignoring all of her hints, ignoring how she feels, when she's always been all about how I feel. "We don't have to lie anymore, Monica," I say gently, taking a step toward her until we almost can't get any closer, and cupping her face in my hands. "We don't have to... hide anything anymore..." "John, I--" "Shhhh, Monica..." I lean forward and kiss her, something I've been longing to do for a very long time. "Love you too," she whispers in my ear as I pull away. "I know," I whisper in reply. "How'd you know? It seemed like you didn't..." "I guess I was just, well..." I pause, searching for the right words. "Lost in a way, Monica, blind, refusing to see, and I have to apologize for that, for how I acted, the position I placed you in, the uncertainty you had to undergo, just really all the bad that you didn't deserve that I put you through..." "John, you don't have to say you're sorry for anything," she responds, kissing me. I could die at this moment, and die complete, knowing that the greatest thing in life is simply to love and be loved in return. "Oh, but I do..." I say as I finally pull away, surprised to find my eyes misty as I do so. "What do you have to be sorry for?" She inquires. "For putting you through... so much hell. For almost losing you. If... if I would have done this at the right time, if I would have told you that night, as I wanted to, neither of us would have ever had to go through this, and--" "What doesn't kill us makes us stronger, and absence always makes the heart grow fonder," she interrupts me with one of those genuine, carefree smiles of her. Monica, you keep coming back, you always come back, and I don't deserve you, I don't... but for now, I'll just pretend that I do, because I'm too afraid of what will happen if we lie again, if we let this go again... that's something I can't let myself do. I lean toward her and kiss her once again. I haven't had this for years, and now, I can't get enough, and I know that I'm never going to be able to let go again, and that's okay. For once, I'll let myself be dependent on someone else, I'll give myself up once again like I did only one other time, love so unselfishly that I might lose myself for the sake of letting two become one. *** Reyes *** I wish I knew what was going through his head, but I can't really ask for anymore than I have at this moment. He loves me -- it's something I've always really dreamed of, something I've always hoped for, but something that I kept at a distance, because I had to know that it would most likely never happen, that his heart didn't belong to me, it belonged to someone else, and I just had to sit back and accept that. This seems more like a dream than anything -- I can only hope and pray that it's not, that this isn't some fantasy I've woven in my mind because it's what I want so bad, what I've been yearning for for so long... Your friend. He loves you very much. That's what Audrey had said. I'd wanted to believe her, but I'd been afraid to. Afraid, because I've tried to close myself off, for fear that my feelings could and would never be reciprocated. I wish Audrey was here, wish she was here, so I could thank her, so I could tell her how much her... pulling us together, bringing hope to something that seemed so hopeless, but she's not. She was so unselfish, and I admire her for that. Unselfish enough to risk, and inevitably, give, her life for me, a person she didn't even really know. Unselfish enough to give her life in the name of love. I respect her tremendously for that unselfishness, and I'll never forget her for that. Audrey, wherever you are, thank you -- thank you for having the strength that I could never have. I didn't want to jump over the edge, because of the unknown -- I couldn't watch myself shatter just like that coffee cup that I threw over the edge into oblivion, couldn't give up hope that easily, and you... you, in your unselfish unknowingness, made sure that I would't have to. You gave your life, in the name of desperation. You sacrificed yourself, in the name of love. *** Doggett *** The woman who forced me to live again after I'd lost what I thought was everything, after I thought that there was nothing left, that I'd fallen to the bottom and couldn't fall any further, is now the woman who's showing me how to love again. Ironic, in a way. When I first met her, she was green as a grass shoot, a fresh, young, FBI agent, unsure where she fit, unsure what shoes she should wear, unsure of herself, unsure of everything... and I, the sure, hotshot, idiotic (at times), NYPD cop, who really couldn't be more annoyed at having to work with someone of such a low rank as she was at the time. She's taught me so much. Audrey kicked the sense into me that I refused to see, maybe because I was afraid to see it. Audrey may as well have put it bluntly, may as well have said that I would be an idiot to let her go again, but the unspoken words linger in my mind just as powerful as if they would have been spoken. I've loved and lost before, and I'm not going to love and lose again. It's something the strongest of people can afford to do once, and even then, it weakens them terribly, almost breaks them in a way that you would never want to be broken -- but it's something that even the strongest of people cannot afford to do twice. I realize, for the first time, that my hands are running through her immaculately perfect, silky, dark hair. Worn, tired hands, of a worn, tired man, who's done nothing but work to see justice served for a time I lost count of quite awhile ago. Worn, loving hands though, of a man who's wanted to love, but has been afraid to do so for too long now. "Mon'ca?" I whisper ruggedly, softly. "Yeah, John?" She whispers, looking up, her misty eyes meeting my misty ones. We've laughed together, we've smiled together, we've cried together, we've seen so many things together that I would never want to see with anyone else. I didn't want her to have to see it, it forced her to grow up far faster than she should've had to -- but it also brought us together, and, selfish as I am, I can't say I regret that in the least. "Do I have to go home... tonight?" I ask her. She stares at me silently, as if considering, but she knows what she means, and of course, I already know her answer. She wants this just as bad as I do, and I know she wouldn't deny it. "No," she says. "It's been a long time since we've... enjoyed each other's company. Far too long." She's absolutely right: it's been a long time, but it never has to be a long time again. Bringing my lips to hers one more time, I open my mouth and put some tongue into it, giving her the most passionate kiss I've ever given anyone, and I hope, the most passionate kiss she's ever had. She's turned on by this, I can tell, as she lets out a soft exclamation at first, only to then return the kiss just as deeply as I initiated it. It's as if I can't keep my old, forty-year-old, sex-deprived self in check anymore. I've lost myself, and I'm not so sure I want to be found: this isn't a bad kind of being lost. "Monica..." I whisper, almost gruffly. "C'mon." For an exhausted, deprived forty-year-old dick, it's sure becoming aroused fast, and I don't want to pass it by. I take her hand, and we walk up to the bedroom. "It's been so long..." I whisper as I lean over her, repeating her words of just minutes ago as I shed her shirt and throw it on the ground. "Too long," she agrees. "But it doesn't have to be... ever again," I say, surprised at the intensity of my own voice. "No, it doesn't." So long, I've wanted this for *so* long... I'm nearly mesmorized as I stare at her naked form against mine, as is she. We stare for a moment, until she laughs, breaking the tension. It's so good to hear her laugh, and it's so good to have her, like this... God, I love her. Intensely. Intensely dangerous, maybe. We trace and explore each other for what seems like a long time, because that's what I'm trying to make it, I don't want it to end, and she doesn't either, I can see it in her eyes. When we're finally done exploring, we're more ready than ever, and the night culminates in the most deluctable, delightful dance I've ever had... and know that I'll never be able to let go, ever again. She turns to me after we finish, her arm resting across my chest, the warmth, the intensity, still there, and in the silence, whispers four words: "Are you okay, John?" "I'm good," it's my turn to whisper as I turn to face her again, my blue eyes filled with truth, the truth we've both hidden for so many years. "If this is a dream -- I'm not sure I want to wake up..." Monica whispers. I reach forward a run a hand through her hair in an attempt to straighten it out from our 'adventures' earlier. "You don't have to." *** FIN, and greatly appreciated: smberens1013@aol.com