Title: The Most Important Thing
Author: Scifinerdgrl
Rating: NC-17
Classification: SR
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes, PWP
Spoilers: I only WISH there was an episode like this!
Summary: Monica feels neglected and takes matters into her own
hands...
Feedback: scifinerdgrl@mail.ev1.net or scifinerdgrl@hotmail.com
Archive: No to anyone but Spookys and Gossamer


Special agent Monica Reyes opened the door to the home she
shared with her lover and partner, John Doggett.  She set her
purse and gun on the hall table, locked the door, and walked
through the house looking for the love of her life.  She found
him in the TV room, wearing a T-shirt softened by years of wear,
plaid boxer shorts, and white athletic socks.  A can of coke and
a bag of chips graced the coffee table, and the TV showed an
amorous couple advertising...  well, it could have been
anything.  Any product looks better toa sports fan when
presented that way.

He looked up and smiled, "Hi.  Stake-out over?"

"Yep," she said as she strode to the sofa.  She sat down close
to him and stroked his chest with her hand.  "It went like
clockwork, and we busted the guy.  Got good evidence, too."  She
put her arms around his neck and kissed him as if they'd been
apart for weeks.  "I'm glad to be home," she added with an
impish smile.

"Me too," he said, looking into her eyes.  Just then, the
voice-over on the television said, "And now returning to our
NASCAR race of the week."  John put his elbows on his kness and
returned his focus to the TV. Mindlessly, he pushed her off of
him and reached for his coke.

She had tried to accept sharing him with his weekend obsession,
but it was still hard, especially after thinking about him all
morning. "Important race?" she asked tentatively.

"Huh?" he pulled his eyes away from the TV to look at her with a
confused stare.  "Uh, yeah, it is..." he answered when her
question finally registerd, then he went back to the race.  She
sat in stunned disappointment for a few long seconds.  He seemed
not to notice she was even there...

Sighing, she got up and walked to the door, turning around
briefly to see if he'd noticed.  He hadn't.  She closed the door
quietly and walked to the bedroom.  Her disappointment couldn't
eradicate the thoughts that had been building all day.  All
alone, monitoring a video screen for hours, her thoughts had
drifted to John, to his body, to what she wanted to do to his
body...  She had been so eager to get home and make her
fantasies reality...  She sighed again, hoping this was normal,
that every couple had days like this.

She pulled off her top and started rummaging in the closet for
her favorite rainy-day sweatshirt, the comfort-food of her
wardrobe.  While she was looking, her eyes fell on a box in the
corner, one that she hadn't opened since moving in with John. 
As if it had a mind of its own, her hand drifted up to her
breast as she thought about what was in the box.  She smiled and
thought "It'll be hours before he misses me..."  She opened the
box and looked through her small collection of sex toys, porn
magazines, and videos, becoming nostalgic about the pleasure
they had brought her on many lonely nights.  After moving in
with John, she thought she would never be lonely again...  But
then today...  On impulse, she picked out her favorite dildo,
and the most well-worn of the "True Stories"  magazines.

She put the magazine and dildo on the bed then turned around and
faced the dresser mirror.  She did a slow strip-tease for
herself, thinking how she would love to do this for John,
imagining his eyes following her hands as they caressed her
body.  When she was completely naked, she lay down on the bed
and began trailing her hands up and down, pausing to circle each
nipple gently.  They stiffened instantly, and her crotch,
already wet from her morning fantasies, began to tingle in
anticipation.

She picked up the magazine in one hand, and took the dildo in
the other.  This was a well-rehearsed routine, but it felt new
to her in this new bed.  She flipped to her favorite story,
imagining herself and John as the main characters.  Her lips
tingled as the couple in the story kissed, and her breasts gave
her near-orgasmic thrills as her free hand traced the patterns
that the man's hands traced.  She played with each nipple in
turn, then followed the story man's hand down her stomach to her
pubic hairs.  She played with them briefly, then inspected her
wetness.  She was deliciously, sloppily wet by now, and she was
tempted to run back to the TV room and try again with John.  But
this was her moment, and she wanted to give it to herself.  She
couldn't bear to be disappointed again.

Sighing softly, she put first one, then two fingers inside
herself, moving in and out in tandem with story man.  Thrust
after thrust brought her closer to inevitable ecstasy, and
within seconds she dropped the magazine.  After hours of
fantasizing about John, she was well-primed for a quick orgasm,
and she groaned loudly as it rushed to meet her.  She was
surprised at how fast she came, but she knew she was far from
finished.  Her eyes still closed, she reached for the dildo, and
gently teased her labia with it.

In the TV room, John sat staring at the screen in horror.  The
race had come to an abrupt halt as two of the cars were
sideswiped by a third, and all three had disintegrated on the
track.  The voice-over announcers were saying "Oh my God," over
and over, then became silent as emergency crews attended to the
drivers.  The camera zoomed in on one of the passenger
compartments as the crew pulled out the driver's body...  then
the driver's head.  The screen went black for a second, and the
only sound was the cracking voice of the color commentator as he
said "People, we are so sorry you saw that.  We extend our
condolences especially to the wife of the driver...  She has
lost so much more on this day than his fans have...  John, you
talked to her..."

The second color commentator broke in.  "Yes I did, Mike.  I
talked to his wife before the race.  She says they have a rule: 
Never leave the house without saying 'I love you.'  She said we
all live with risk, but they face it and respect it."

"True. Nothing is more important than your loved ones, John,"
added the first commentator.  "Guys, if your wife is at home... 
tell her you love her...  she's more important than this race...
She's the most important thing..."  Suddenly John remembered
Monica, and wondered where she'd gone.  He got up and
frantically started looking around the house.

He heard a loud groan coming from the bedroom and became
concerned.  Opening the door a crack, he saw Monica, naked on
the bed, aiming a bright pink dildo for her vagina.  From the
doorway he could see everything in detail, and he was
immediately aroused, despite overwhelming guilt for brushing her
off earlier.  He knew he shouldn't look, but he couldn't help
himself, and he was damned sure he couldn't interrupt her. 
"I'll wait until she's finished," he thought to himself.

Monica felt a chill as she buried the dildo.  The coldness of
the toy was  both exhilirating and annoying to her, but her body
accepted it easily.  She started thrusting slowly, then as it
warmed up, she picked up speed, until she could barely hang on
to it.  She couldn't hear the gasps she was uttering, nor the
ones she was provoking on the other side of the door.  For every
stroke Monica made with the dildo, John made an equal and
opposite stroke with his hand, and he could feel his control
slipping away from him.  He put his other hand against the door
jamb for support and slid his legs apart for better stability,
always keeping his eyes on his lover as she bucked against his
alter ego.  She switched the slippery toy from one hand to the
other, then moved her right hand to her nub, rubbing it from
side to side in an independent rhythm from the dildo, while John
lost  himself in his own rhythm as well.  As he felt himself
coming close to a climax, he stopped abruptly and heaved heavy
breaths as he continued to watch Monica's hips gyrating toward
an explosive climax.  She groaned even more loudly this time,
more throaty as well.  She slowed to a stop and rolled onto her
side, the toy still in her hand.  As her orgasm subsided, Monica
set the toy aside and ran her hands over her hips and breasts,
imagining John's hands against her skin.

John pulled the door closed and knocked softly, then opened it
again.  Monica was staring at him wide-eyed, like the proverbial
deer caught in the headlights.  "Hi Mon," he said tenderly, as
if what he'd seen was nothing unusual.  He walked to the side of
the bed and pulled off his T-shirt, releasing the newly-laid
musky scent in his armpits into the air, then he pulled down his
boxers and silently stepped out of them, all the time keeping
his eyes on Monica's.  She was surprised and delighted at the
stiffness of his erection and eagerly slid over to give him
space.  He laid down next to her and nuzzled in her ear.  Then
he whispered quietly, "When's the last time that I told you that
I love you?" 

As she thought about it, John realized he'd been neglecting her
more than just during NASCAR races, more than he ever realized
he could.  "I love you, Monica honey," he said.  She smiled.  He
rarely called her "honey," but when he did, she knew he meant
it, and it never failed to send a tingle up her spine.  "I love
you too," she answered.

He kissed her just below her ear.  "I'm so sorry I wasn't paying
attention to you earlier," then he kissed her in front of her
ear.  "I didn't mean to take you for granted...," he added,
kissing her cheek.  "You're the most important thing to me. 
Always," he added, then kissed her on the lips. "I shouldn't let
you leave the house without telling you that."

She accepted his kiss with welcoming lips, softly encouraging
him to explore her mouth.  His kisses became more passionate,
even hungry, as he positioned his body on top of hers, then
suddenly he broke away and looked into her eyes, "I do love
you," he asserted again.  

"I know," she answered.  "You've made me very happy.  You don't
need to apologize for anything..."  she said seriously.  She
almost immediately broke into a smile and added, "But I'm glad
you did.  I'll accept an apology anytime... especially if it's
like this."

He smiled back, then nuzzled her neck, and trailed kisses down
to her breasts.  Her nipples were still erect, and he tongued
each one firmly before taking as much of one breast into his
mouth as he could manage.  She loved the attention, but was
anxious for a different kind of affection.  She grabbed his hair
with both hands and pulled his head up.  He seemed puzzled. 
Usually she liked this.

John, she said huskily, "I want you in me..."  He smiled and
immediately raised himself up.  Their eyes locked as he aimed
his cock for her almost over-ready vagina.  "Now..." she
ordered, lifting her hips toward his.

He lowered himself and gently entered her, but before his first
thrust, she began to buck under him.  He closed his eyes and the
memory of watching her making love to her dildo leapt into his
consciousness, making him pound the real thing into her with
pent-up passion.  He could tell from her breathy gasps that she
was close to coming.   "Wait," he commanded himself....  "Wait
till she's finished..."  And as if her body were listening to
his mind, shuddering spasms suddenly contracted around him,
sending him into the abyss just after her.  Time stood still for
both of them.  Gravity lost its pull.  Their bodies disappeared
into each other, and for a long, long moment they were one with
each other and with the universe.  They lay together letting
reality dawn upon them gradually, and he let himself go flaccid
inside her.

Finally, John slid off of her, still keeping himself close to
her, wrapping himself around her like a bud enclosing its
flower.  He put a hand to her hair and stroked it.  "I should
have wondered what you do while I'm watching sports..." he
whispered.   

She smiled contentedly and gazed into his eyes.  "Today was
different," she assured him.  "All morning I couldn't stop
thinking about you." She let a hand drift absently over his
chest, then looked down and whispered,  "Promise me something?" 
He smiled and kissed the tip of her nose. 

She brought her eyes back to his and continued, "Don't let me
leave the house without telling you that I love you.  You're the
most important thing to me, too."