Title: Regrets 2: Reunion

Author: RPcrazy

Category: Doggett/Reyes romance, casefile.

Key words: Angst, Romance, casefile, Doggett POV, Reyes, Gibson.

Rating: NC-17 (sexual situations)

Summary: Doggett accepts the consequences of his actions when
returning to DC after the search for his partner had been fruitful.
The time away from work gives him a chance to reflect on the change of
direction his life has laid out for him. Which course will he choose
as his number one? Will it be his career or his duty to his partner
and lover Monica Reyes and their unborn child?
Also, when a mystery reveals itself at work can he stay out of it or
does his thirst for his career work win out?

Notes: Sequel to 'Regrets'. This could be read alone but it would make
more sense to read the first of the sequel.


***

Chapter One

It had been a week since returning to DC and facing the music. Seven
whole days and nights of Special Agent John Doggett's two week
suspension.

As he sipped his hot morning coffee he leant back, relaxed on his
kitchenette bench surveying the tornado that had hit his living room
the previous night.

Well to him, the meticulously ordered ex-marine and New York and now
FBI agent, it was. To any other visitor it would be yesterday's open
newspaper, last night's pizza remnants on a plate, an empty beer
bottle and unwatched videos strewn about.

"To hell with rules," he muttered to himself yet again as he stood
there perusing his handiwork.

Before working with the X-Files and Monica Reyes he was a rule freak.
Regulations were not there to be flouted for any reason except through
threat of serious injury or worse.

In the past few years his attitude had slowly modified.

It began when he met and then partnered Agent Dana Scully where he was
exposed to cases he had not come across in all his dealings in law
enforcement. Scully with her 'leaps' of logic had initially caused the
proverbial 'eye roll' but slowly he became to understand that in the
direction his career was leading then that 'educated stab' was more
than likely to lead to the right path.

Why had he been assigned to the X-Files? In hindsight it was to add
the face of reason, to be the doubting Thomas, to direct Scully back
on the straight and narrow. Any straight as an arrow agent could have
provided that guidance but he could also see that the move was
sidestepping him away from cruising up that corporate ladder.

Since the super soldier threat he could see it was a smart move on
Kersh's part to direct him to the basement office job. The Deputy
Director was a puppet just like they thought Doggett would be.
However, Kersh also had survival instincts and a world with the threat
of alien invasion and a slave race was not something he could
comfortably tolerate.

The X-Files had reopened after a word in Kersh's ear that Doggett
expected to have gone higher. After the commotion of Mulder's trial
and then escape and the inevitable media leakage, following the
closure of the X-Files there were bound to be communal mutterings. Was
that in the FBI's best interest? Along with their renewed status in
the newly refurnished basement office had come a lull in the future
threat, a lull that would bide them time.

With Mulder on the case and him gathering supporters, with Doggett and
Reyes keeping an eye out from another angle, it all would give them
the chance they needed to be able to stop the menace, of that Doggett
was determined.

This suspension had certainly given him the time to think about the
direction of his life and career. Perhaps that had been another reason
for Skinner's straight non-descript face as he had issued the
punishment for flouting orders and going after his partner and lover,
Monica Reyes.

....

The week had been a good one for introspection about his life's path
but even one day of that was reminder of how lonely he had become
before Monica Reyes had come into his life.

The suspension A.D. Skinner had bestowed on him would be no holiday
but had been described as one where he needed to look deeply
internally for what he needed to do with his life and love. Being
forbidden to see or even get in touch with Monica was the worst
punishment.

That was wrong but no amount of persuasion was worth getting into more
serious trouble and have a longer red mark on his record. He had
agreed with his suspension and had admitted to his superior that it
was wide of the mark to disobey an order. He neglected to say he would
do the same again in a heartbeat.

Against wishes he had gone looking for his partner who had left
without telling him. He more or less knew it was after the argument
they'd had the previous day in their office. Not knowing if she would
ever return or if she had fallen out of love with him was too painful
to stand. At all costs he wanted to find her, and he had.

To see her there, sitting on the front steps of her parents Mexican
home was initially relief. To find out she still loved him and wanted
him unconditionally was what he never thought he would ever hear again
any woman speaking to him since his divorce all those years ago to
Barbara.

All concerns about fugitive consequences were lost that night as they
lay in bed together.

It had been two weeks since they had previously made love. John had
wanted to show his lover, partner and the mother of his unborn child
just how much he adored her.

The night had been solely for her. The way she responded with her coos
and sighs as he lapped at her body with his tongue and lips was more
than expected. He had worshipped her with his unbound affections that
night and he hoped she would remember leaving no doubt of his devotion
to his lady. They fitted together in perfect contrast, two singular
bodies and souls being finally united.

Trying to keep quiet from her parents in a room close by they woke
several times during the night to continue giving thanks and mutual
forgiveness.

John headed up the stairs of his Falls Church home to freshen up his
bedroom all the time thinking of that one night and day one week ago.
.....

John and Monica had quietly slipped into the bedroom at her parents'
home both understanding that Ciro and Maria Reyes would have
sanctioned the layover.

The following morning they had laid in bed just holding each other,
caressing, loving, knowing they would need to face the reality of a
new day and new direction. Her parents were wonderful, accepting their
daughter's and her boyfriend's time for solitude.

"When was the last time?" was Monica's father's first question to John
as they made their way out of the bedroom for the first time that
morning. He shook John's hand and they exchanged manly hugs as though
they had known each other a lifetime.

"Ciro, you know it was the hospital in DC." Maria had playfully nudged
her husband's arm and then welcomed John with a warm smile, an embrace
and a light kiss on each cheek. "We're happy you're here John." There
was a genuine greeting in her stance and she looked across to her
equally smiling daughter. John had been accepted as part of the
family. After all they were going to have the grandchild that had been
long awaited.

Monica had linked an arm with her lover and shown a radiance he hadn't
seen for a long time. It could have been the night full of lovemaking
coupled with the wonderful mellowing time of pregnancy.

"It's good to finally make it here Mrs. Reyes," John tried to stay
composed, not looking as though he had just spent the night with her
daughter.

"Please, I'm Maria and Monica's father is Ciro. You are like a son
now." She had beckoned them to the breakfast table leaving John's
blush to wane away.

Not once had the word 'marriage' come up but John knew it was on their
minds. With seemingly old fashioned values their daughter's condition
would mean the prospective father would need to make an honest woman
of her.

John wondered why they had been so accepting of his presence after
what he had done but the fact that he came after their daughter and
that the couple had made up so easily was all good for them.

John finished his bedroom cleaning ritual and took a pile of washing
down to the laundry.

Filling the machine he smiled coming across a pair of Monica's pink
underwear. Chuckling to himself he held them up imagining the shocked
faces if he had been at the local laundromat. A man in his early
forties with a pair of women's bikini underwear?

All of a sudden he had a rush of remorse. He so much wanted to be with
his lover and for it all to go back to before she announced she was
pregnant. Even though they needed to keep their relationship secret he
found he could easily keep work at work knowing that she would be in
his arms that night. She seemed to feel the same way.

Circumstances had drastically changed but it didn't stop him craving
her company, wanting her close. His eyes closed as he remembered the
feel of her face close to him as they were about to kiss. The way her
fingers would run through his hair came to mind. Then he would feel
her warm breath on his face just as their lips touched.

Monica was so good to kiss. Sometimes she would lead and just the way
she turned her mouth or touched his body would give him a whole new
experience of gratification. He missed her body resting on his, he
longed for the warmth and security of her skin next to his.

It had been well over three months since the first time they had slept
together. A case had just been solved and they were on their way back
to DC. It had been a particularly difficult one for John to handle,
one with the disappearance of a child. Monica had been there for him,
holding him together when that magic three days had passed. The boy
had been found alive but in a critical condition. After busting the
cult and extracting the boy who had been taken by his delusional
father the two agents had left the mopping up to local law
enforcement.

The night was late and both agents were tired but wanted to get the
hell away from the town and the memories. It had been halfway home
when the road was beginning to distort, not from some unusual
phenomenon but lack of sleep.

Monica had suggested they pull over and stay the night in a motel.
......

The lack of sleep for the previous days coupled with the intensity of
the case had clouded their minds. So when reception handed them a
single door key they didn't think to question it. They were both tired
and in need of sleep, real sleep.

There had only been a hazy memory of stripping down to his boxers and
climbing under the cool, welcoming covers. There was no memory of
Monica just wearing an oversized t-shirt that she must have brought
for her night attire on the case. There was no memory until part way
through the night he had partly woken after dreaming he was in bed
with a beautiful woman. The feel, the smell, the warmth had all seemed
so real because it was. He was holding Monica against him, not wanting
to move away.

She had woken too and lay in his arms cooing and slightly moving
making his body more alive with every sound.

The FBI agent in him said to move away, roll over and let it pass but
the man in him wanted it to play out. Deciding on half way he let her
make the first moves.

When she lifted her body and began taking off her only clothing
article, he knew what was to happen and decided the time was right.
They were officially not on a case and not in work mode so any
physical attention they paid to each other would not affect their
judgments. There was certainly no one around to report them back to
Headquarters. Considering the trying time they'd had the past few days
any sexual activity would be healthy and take their minds off the
worrying circumstances of the case.

In the moonlight that coursed through the partially open curtain he
found his eyes wandering from her smiling face down over her perfect
curves that previously he had only imagined. Her velvety looking skin
had been even softer to touch as his hands wandered over her body.
Each caress brought her closer and closer until he could feel her
pressing into him and they were kissing for the very first time.

Even if there were time for reflection they would have chosen the same
path.

The first kiss was perfection. With each ripple of her lips and
contented sound from her throat he knew it was right. He had told
himself a year back after a fling with a woman he had met at a bar
that if he ever made love to someone again she would be the one. He
was past flings, he wanted love to be real and he had been hoping
Monica would want it too.

As their lips parted and the kiss was more intense he felt her hands
move underneath the band of his boxers and begin to tug them off.
Lifting his hips he assisted her and once the material was on the
floor they resumed a similar position but closer.

They both understood that being naked together in bed would lead
further but neither wanted nor needed to think about consequences. As
the kiss progressed, Monica's hand made its way down John's body and
rested on what had grown physically large between them.

Temporarily he had to remove his mouth from hers through risk of
biting as she gave him pleasure with her hand down below. The touch
was enchantment itself. Whether that hand was experienced or not, he
had never felt so good being handled that way.

"John, I want this," she had whispered as she lay over him spanning
his hips. The silver of the moonlight shimmered on the side of her
face making it all seem unreal and dreamlike.

"Me too," he had managed to respond even though his thoughts were
between his legs and Monica's.

She had guided him inside her, moving slowly down while she watched
his face. In the past he might have put on a bit of a show but at that
time all his honest, unbound pleasure was revealed. His mouth hung
open trying for air as she slowly and deliberately moved on him. He
rewarded her with tenderly touching her body looking for signs of
contentment. They were too numerous to remember.

He thought back to how she had first appeared as an angel, riding him
above. Her hair flung back and in the filtered light appeared as black
velvet. Her unclothed body bounced in all the right places as she rode
her steed.

It hadn't taken him long to expel months of pent up sexual energy.
Normally he would try to wait. He hoped he was a gentleman in bed as
well as outside the bedroom but the surroundings and his vulnerability
meshed together letting his well of desire escape.

He felt her own throbbing as he came down from the heights. Watching,
he could almost see the aura that radiated from her skin as her body
slowed and then stopped as she regained her regular breathing.

However all too brief in context with the passage of time he would
never forget their first time. It would be etched into his psyche
forever.

As he poured the powder into the machine and punched in the setting he
wondered if she remembered the first time like he did. She must have
enjoyed it because she came back for more, over and over. Most nights
from then on they would be sleeping at either his place or hers.

It hadn't first been planned that way. They had decided to take things
slowly but at the end of the day at the office either one or the other
would give that first smile. Like an addictive drug the attraction of
sex and togetherness was too powerful. Unlike the destructiveness of
illicit drugs love and sex were highly beneficial.

.....

The hum of the machine in the laundry was a comfort in a way. It was
like the proverbial mother's womb where all was peaceful with the
methodical, calming beat of her heart.

"Monica, Monica," he found himself saying as he opened the door to his
rear garden. He'd had time to labor on his gardening in the past week.
No FBI work and no Monica had left him with too much time on his
hands. "Why, Skinner?"

One of the terms of his suspension was that he was to have no
involvement with his partner in any form. He was to think about where
he was headed professionally and spiritually. Did he want to
jeopardize his job and continue the sexual relationship with his
partner or would he break it off and continue to work on the X-Files?

They had decided to keep the pregnancy angle from Skinner for the time
being until they could plot a plan of action. It didn't leave them
much time though, she would be showing in a month or so and an
explanation would need to be proffered.

"Fraternization." The term Skinner had used spilled from his lips as
he sat on the only piece of garden furniture, a long wooden bench.
Naturally he sat to one end as though an imaginary Monica was there
next to him. Numerous times they had made out on that seat, enjoying
the outdoors for more than the fresh air and sights. He couldn't
imagine her never being there again, never touching her, never again
kissing her sweet lips.

"John, you know the code of ethics here," Skinner had explained. "What
will people think knowing that two fellow agents are in a sexual
relationship?"

John had just sat there and taken it. He could have said how much he
loved her and wanted to be continually with her but it seemed not the
right time. It was time for him to be berated and he deserved every
penance for his disobedience.

"Put yourself in my shoes John. Someone finds out I have been
condoning the behavior of you two and I could lose my job." He had sat
back in his seat waiting for a response.

"We wouldn't let you be blamed Sir," he had tried to make light of the
situation. "They were our actions, our choices."

"Now that I know, I cannot just turn a blind eye as I have in the
past." He once again leant forward as though a magistrate in a high
court about to lay sentence. "I'm going to suspend you for two weeks
which may or may not go on your permanent record."

"Permanent record Sir?" he had assumed it would.

"I'll get to that. During those two weeks I want you to think long and
hard about where you want this to go." His voice was softer. "You are
a good agent John, one of the best I've seen. Don't throw it all away
for a non sanctioned workplace fling."

At that point John stood knowing the meeting was almost over. He was
not going to give Skinner any more fuel for the fire.

"If that's all I'll see you in two weeks." He began unpinning his
badge and then too his gun and placed them on the desk in front of
him.

"John, don't you see? I have to do this, for the good of the FBI and
the X-Files." He was almost apologetic.

"I know." With a straight John began heading for the door.

"There's one more thing." Skinner called then John swiveled back to
catch his slightly nervous stare. At that moment John knew that the
condition of the suspension not going on his record would be one to
sting. "To also show your commitment I suggest you not contact Agent
Reyes during your two weeks away. If you can do that then I'll scrub
this disciplinary action from your record."

.....

That had come as a big blow. After Monica had left for LA then Mexico
it had already been two weeks without seeing each other. Another
fourteen days would mean they would have had only one day and night
together in a month. He yearned to be with her every day since Mexico.

"I've arranged for Agent Reyes to be out of the office. I want you to
get your things, the suspension starts of right now." That time it had
been Skinner who had opened the door for John to finally leave.

Those words still hurt even after a week with his own thoughts. The
number of times he was tempted to call her was too numerous but he had
to be strong. If he were to commit to a life together with Monica, if
he was to continue working with the FBI with a clean slate he would
need to keep to the rules. There was also the possibility that when he
returned to work, the old job would not be an option. Perhaps Skinner
saw that their partnership could be a distraction no matter what he
chose to do.

He could handle working in another unit in the same building. He could
endure not seeing her during the day but he wanted the chance to be
with her at least at night.

"Too much time on your hands," John mumbled to himself. He was doing a
lot of that lately but that's exactly why Skinner had said 'No Monica'
and to stay in town.

He stood knowing he should be doing something around the house to keep
his mind off Monica and how dearly he yearned for her.

A checklist showed in his mind. He had fixed the oil leak in his
truck, done a bit of gardening in the front and rear gardens. The
floors had been vacuumed at least three times, the washers in the
upstairs bathroom had been replaced. There was not too much more to
do.

Having thrown himself into his work his leisure time would normally be
arranged when he wanted it. The enforced time without work was
different to what he had experienced in many years.

He had taken leave before but that was for a specific purpose. To go
out of town for a sporting match or interstate to visit relatives were
examples of what was the norm. He would never take leave just to stay
home and potter around the house.

To keep up his activity he had planned a daily fitness schedule. Each
morning he either set off for a bike ride, went on a run or perform
some other indoor activity such as push-ups or lifting the weights he
kept in a spare room. He had done all that for the morning including
showering, having breakfast and tidying the house.

Running a hand along a bookshelf in the downstairs guest room his
fingers settled on the familiar well-worn photo album. Thoughtfully
extracting it he went to sit on the bed and lay it across his lap.
Barbara had been the one to start the album of their son Luke. It
began with birth photos and worked their way chronologically through
each new year of his existence.

As each page turned John's eyes began to appear sadder and more
glossy. When he arrived at the photos of his eighth birthday party he
swiveled around to lie on the bed, the photo album open above him. All
those feelings of failure came back. During Luke's early years he had
been there for him as a father but in retrospect he could have done
more. In every aspect of his past life as a father he could have done
that bit better and maybe Luke would still be alive.

Each time his thoughts went in that self-deprecating direction he knew
it was irrational but he couldn't help think it.

He was going to be a father again. It was still too hard to envisage.
Until he held his child in his own arms it would be difficult to
imagine looking after a son or daughter once more. What would they be
like? No matter what, he wanted to do a better job this time around.

As his arms grew heavy the album drifted down to lay across his chest.
His eyes closed and he imagined Monica's sweet face.

What was she thinking about all this? How did she feel about also
being punished for what he had done? She also would have been warned
not to contact him. Did she also find it as difficult as he not to
just pick up the phone and ring?

He drifted off into his own thoughts as his body sank further into the
mattress.


Chapter Two

It had just been another regular day and tomorrow would be the same
and then the next until the two weeks suspension was up and the
meeting with Skinner would decide his fate.

As each day dawned he knew he could not return to the X-Files but he
hoped and preyed he would be permitted to stay in DC. Of that he would
plead with his superior.

More and more Monica and their unborn child were taking precedence in
his life decisions. His marriage had not succeeded. He had failed his
son. This was his chance to right the past wrongs and live his life in
the happiness he had decided was not his lot. Maybe there was
something in Monica's theories. Whether in future lives or this one
there would be chances for redemption. This was fate giving him
another opportunity.

He had fallen asleep with those thoughts and slept the most soundly he
had in a long time. He missed Monica's warm body beside him but he
would have her back and when he did he would try for something more
permanent.

It would have been just before midnight when he woke with a start to
something touching his face.

"Shh," said the quiet voice. "It's me."

At the sound instantly he knew whom it was as in the dim night light
he watched her peeling off her clothes.

"Is this wise?" Was that all he could think of, getting caught? It was
nighttime. As far as he knew the FBI wouldn't waste money on
surveillance of his house. Skinner would surely just trust him.

He found his heart thumping erratically as the body slipped in beside
him and encircled his own with her arms.

"I've missed you." She settled her head into the pillow beside him
gazing into his recently woken eyes. As if remembering the feel of his
body her hands meandered over his chest and down to his hip where it
ran in long strokes along his thigh.

John's hand quietly rested on her hip not sure if he should go
further, he certainly wasn't expecting female company and was still
not fully awake.

"I've missed you too but I don't need to say that you shouldn't be
here Monica." He whispered as though the walls had ears. "I was told
we shouldn't try to see you."

"John," her whole body moved closer once again sparking a desire in
him that only she could ignite. "All I was told was that you were not
to contact me. Nothing about me not seeing you."

"That's splitting hairs," he added. "If anyone saw you then it will
look bad on my record Mon."

"No one saw me." Coming closer still he could feel the warmth from her
body and then her lips on his. Fingers found the bottom of his boxers
and slid underneath. "I parked a few houses away and walked." Her lips
were on his. What could he do? The no contact rule had been broken and
could not be undone. He found his mouth yielding to hers until they
were in a fully fledged emotional kiss.

It had been so long without the feel of her next to him that he found
it difficult to stop but he had to ease his conscience before they
moved on to more intimate activities.

"Monica, do you know how serious this is?" She kept kissing over his
mouth and face as he spoke making it difficult to concentrate on the
words he was saying. Then as she slipped off his boxers she ran hot
wet kisses down his body. "I could lose my job over disobeying orders
again."

As her mouth kissed up one thigh deliberately going slowly, teasing
him, she was making him want her to stay no matter how perilous.

John's eyes slipped closed as she kissed and lightly licked his balls.
She seemed to enjoy giving him pleasure that way and on the occasion
he could actually open his eyes and watch she seemed contented. He
gasped as hot wetness traveled up his shaft.

"What did Skinner actually say to you?" She spoke between upward and
downward attention to his very much alive member. After her mouth
slipped over the tip and down little by little his vocal chords needed
to be sought out by trackers. It wasn't until she stopped and moved
further up his body that his voice was found.

"He told me I was to think about where my head and heart were headed."
He gasped again as she took a nipple in her mouth and began lightly
grinding it between her teeth and then sucking on it to relieve the
pain. "I wasn't to see you for the duration of the suspension." The
last part fizzled away in his mouth as she took the other nipple and
ran her tongue in repeated damp circles.

He found himself running fingers through her dark waves and then over
her back feeling her muscles undulate as her body moved further up his
weakened torso, over his neck and back to his mouth.

"John, I've missed you so much." Her mouth once more pressed into his
showing without a doubt her sentiments were genuine. He couldn't help
but run excited fingers down to knead her ass and pull her hips to be
perfectly aligned with his. "I've dreamt each night of doing this."
She displayed one of her wide smiles before kissing him again.

Her body was light and very alluring as her hips wavered over his. Was
she waiting for his move?

If she wasn't it was too late. With a swift movement he rolled her
over and was on top in the dominant position. The look of mischief on
her face told him the timing was perfect.

"You've dreamt of this have you?" He took her in his mouth that time
and let their tongues collide as below he urged her legs apart
further. Taking his very ready sword in hand he found its prepared
entrance and pushed in as his mouth continued, swallowing his lovers
sounds of satisfaction.

It felt even better than in his dreams. The way his body fit with
perfection inside hers and the way they interacted with almost
telepathy told him it was all meant to be. He wanted to be with this
woman for life. She was his life. Anything else could be thrust upon
him or taken away and it would be nothing compared with their love for
each other. Nothing else mattered except being with her. No matter
what Skinner said, he was not in charge of John's love life.

His thoughts were for the moment as he loved her body, caressed,
kissed and moved inside her.

"Just like that, ahh." Her voice vibrated on his cheek as her hands
pushed on his ass cheeks urging him to move faster. As her legs spread
wider he slid in deeper and worked up a more fevered rhythm.
Concentration moved away from their faces and to the activity below as
John saw Monica go into a trancelike state. Her arms moved above her
head and fingers held onto the bed head slats as she moaned for more.

John could give her all she wanted. He had a week's worth of stored up
sexual energy and it was all for her when she asked for it.

It only took a few more deep thrusts before he felt her body shudder
and her face flush, illuminating the dim light. He felt proud he could
make her come and he felt even better when they would experience the
ultimate together.

Still floating over his lover he waited until she was fully recovered
before slipping off and lying beside her equally quenched body.

"I really love you John." She rolled to her side and ran fingers along
his jaw. He smiled back but let her talk. "I don't think Skinner meant
us not to see each other." A lone finger ran over the lips that had
not long previous tantalized hers.

"But..," Her finger pressed on his lips stopping any further reply.

"He told me that he said for you not to contact me. Is that right?"
She released her hold on his mouth.

"That's right, or I would have a permanent mark on my record." He
wondered where she was headed.

"He didn't tell me not to contact you, he couldn't." Looking into his
eyes she waited for understanding.

"He couldn't because you weren't the one to break the rules." It was
his turn to reach out and feel down her arm to her fingers. "So I'm
not breaking the no contact rule because you came to see me."

"That's right," she smiled and shuffled closer to let him take her in
his arms. "But to be safe I waited a week and parked away from the
house."

Her hair smelt wonderful as he nuzzled her. Her arm draped over his
body made him feel wanted and loved more than ever.

~~~~~

"So anything happen while I've been away?" Sleep was imminent but
something told him he would not have another chance soon to talk with
her.

"No new cases if that's what you mean." Monica kissed his chest as she
spoke. "I've been looking through the files and doing a bit of
research." She stopped for a moment and drew a breath.

"What's wrong?" John could tell she had suddenly remembered something.

"There was something, just yesterday." She propped herself on one
elbow to see her partner's face. "I didn't know what to make of it.
Could be nothing."

"What is it?" It had been a whole week of no work. He could feel the
embers of challenge as Monica spoke.

"When I got to work there was a hand-written note pinned to the office
door." John looked on curiously as she continued, "It was written in a
hand from I'd estimate early last century and maybe even written with
a quill."

"What did it say?" Those embers were starting to flame.

"I don't know what it means but from what I remember it said, 'My
shoes crunched over frost-covered dead leaves. The sky seemed to grow
darker as we made our way past the bare black trees of the woods.'"

"You think it might be someone playing a joke?" His fingers linked
through her hair pulling it away from her face.

"Could be," She flopped back down on his shoulder and sighed. "John, I
wish you were back working with me."

"Me too," The flames were sparking the real desire to return to work.
"Was there anything else on the paper?"

She started slowly, clearly imagining the note in her mind, "Centered
on the top of the sheet were some symbols. An upward arrow and what
looked like a key, both in the same pen as the rest of the note."

"Let me think on that one Monica." He reached over for another
nighttime kiss and flopped back on the pillow clearly needing the kind
of sleep that a contented man required.

~~~~~

Chapter Three

John Doggett hadn't slept in since he was a teenager and that morning
was no exception. His eyes opened, adjusting to the dull morning haze.

As his mind unclouded he smiled remembering the previous night with
Monica. Her being gone was no surprise. What was unusual was that he
hadn't heard or felt her leave. He was starting to wonder if it was
all a dream. His sore muscles in odd places told him otherwise.

He rolled over to the side of the bed where she had slept and smelt
her scent. That took no imagination. He still felt her arms around him
and the touch of her hands over his skin, her sweet lips on his.

Still caring to think about the previous night he rose out of bed, did
a morning stretch to uncrack rested bones and padded to the shower.

They hadn't made arrangements to meet again but it was probably apt
that he knew nothing. That way if he was asked if he had contacted
Monica he could honestly deny it. He did hope that the question would
not arise because he would still feel deceitful letting Skinner
understand that he hadn't seen Monica for the whole two weeks.

Under the shower he stretched again and then let the hot water do the
rest of the work to waken his comfortably slept body.

As the hot droplets caressed his skin his mind wandered to the note
Monica had found pinned to the basement office door. Initially looking
like a joke it was becoming more sinister in his mind. There was
something not quite right about it. However, unless he had more to go
on there was not much he could do.

After his morning push-ups, dressed casually in jeans and T-shirt, he
ventured downstairs for some breakfast and to plan his day. In the
garden there was the lawn to mow and some fallen leaves to sweep.
Outside there was the bit of roofing to fix and the back of his garage
needed painting.

He had also made a point each morning of reading the newspaper that he
had decided to get delivered. As he turned the pages his smile got
wider thinking more and more about the night's visit and hoping it
would happen more often. They wouldn't have to have sex each time but
just her presence in his bed would be a comfort and relive the boredom
of being alone.

Being home for the past week he had come to notice some simple things.
One was the next door neighbor's dog would whine and scratch at the
back door to be let in. Another was that he could actually hear the
train in the distance running along the tracks. He hadn't consciously
heard it before.

Still another was that the postman would deliver each morning about
ten. Not that he ever received much other than spam and bills. It was
still a break to go to the letterbox and look.

The familiar whistle sounded that he had mail so he took a rest from
cleaning the fridge to check. The morning was cloudy but dry. He took
in the fresh air as he opened the letterbox.

Pulling out three envelopes he began opening the first. A telephone
bill was first and then some advertising for a housing estate up
north. He had no intension of moving from where he was.

The third one was more interesting. There was nothing on the outside
but was not flat like the others. It contained something other than
paper. A little curious he set the other envelopes down on his kitchen
bench and carefully opened the unsealed flap.

Curiosity grew as wide as his eyes as he opened the single sheet
letting something fall to the ground. Bending down he picked up a
single leaf. It was brown and dead and otherwise just an ordinary leaf
but having fallen from the envelope he carefully placed it in a zip
lock bag he found in one of the draws. He'd already had a glimpse of
the paper and that it was almost a match to the one Monica had
described.

It was thin like paper from a novel and a rippled edge showed it had
been torn out of perhaps a notebook. He wondered if Monica's note had
also been torn out. Similar to how she had described it the message
was written in ink and in an old hand.

Just under his breath he read,

"Come with me.
Come home with me now.
Come home to where you belong.
Come to your grave Tabby and Lee.
I have come for you and you alone.
Come Tabby and Lee. Come with me now."

His brow wrinkled with confusion, not just from the worrying words but
that he and Monica should be the ones to get these messages. Even more
concerned he looked in the direction of his mail box and wondered how
the person knew where he lived.

What was he to do? This needed further investigation and yet he was on
suspension.

As if on cue the telephone rang. As if there was a certain tone of
ring for each person he knew whom it would be.

~~~~~

"John?" Her sweet voice sounded concerned. "We need to talk."

"Monica, I don't know about this." He wanted to hear her voice on the
phone. He wanted her by his side but it could all be too damaging to
his career. For her to call during the day and jeopardize the terms of
his suspension her news must have been vital.

"I'm on a break and decided to take a walk outside for fresh air. No
one knows I'm calling you," she reassured but John still felt uneasy.
He had messed up once, if he was caught again it could mean bigger
trouble.

"It's something about that note isn't it." He was still holding his in
his hand and looking at the clear plastic bag holding the dried leaf.

"John, I have to see you. I need your help with this." Monica
continued. "There's another note. It was under my apartment door when
I came home after leaving your place this morning. I had to wait until
the right time to tell you."

"What does this one say?" A chill went down John's spine understanding
that the joke was getting a little too close to home.

"It's not just what it said but what had been placed on top." Monica
paused. "A Hershey Kisses."

"What?" He needed more details.

"You know the chocolate treat wrapped in silver foil. It was placed on
top of the note. John," her voice was softer as though there were
people passing she didn't want to alarm. "The way the note and
chocolate was arranged they would have had to break into my
apartment."

"Where do you want to meet?"  Normally he would have suggested she go
ask another agent or even go to Skinner but the fact that the perp was
becoming more personal and that he had been dragged into the mystery
made his suspicion grow. The thrill of the chase was also too hard to
ignore. Also the fact that his partner's security had been compromised
hurled him into protective mode.

"There's an internet caf called The Mousetrap in Arlington. No one
would ever suspect." With that the phone went dead without giving a
time. Not wanting to risk calling back and literally breaking the
suspension terms of contacting her, he surmised that she would
probably use her lunch break as a cover for leaving the Hoover
building.

~~~~~

Trying to look inconspicuous John peered left and right before
entering the Internet caf in Wilson Boulevard. He half expected
Monica to be there already but was a little disappointed when a scan
of the room proved negative.

"Can I help you?" Asked a young blond teenager with black-rimmed
glasses and hair up in a braid.

"I'm just waiting for a friend." He looked to the entrance as he
spoke.

"You can wait over there." She smiled and nodded towards a comfortable
corner arrangement of lounge chairs and a coffee table. "Can I get you
anything, a coffee?"

"Coffee, black, thank you." As he sat, he wondered whether Monica had
been there earlier after all but that was dissolved as she entered the
large room with about thirty terminals, the light buzz of conversation
was punctuated by the clicking of computer keyboard keys.

He had missed her smile, the one that lit up every room she entered.
It was a smile that showed her love for him and that she relished his
presence. It gave him hope for the future that he wouldn't be alone
again. The life that grew inside her, the life they shared, was even
more of a reminder of their eternal connection. As she made her way
over, his skin had a warm flush remembering the previous night of
love-making. He wanted to let the whole room know that the love of his
life had just entered. He would just have to settle for a warm kiss
with the lips that had just smiled sweetly for him.

"Love you," she whispered in his ear before sitting next to him on the
couch for two. John flashed back one of his rare smiles that had been
appearing more and more as their relationship had progressed. "What's
that?" Monica noticed John had an envelope and the bag with the leaf
on the table in front of them.

"It's what I found in my mail box this morning." He waited for her
reaction. Picking up the letter she opened the back flap and took out
and unfolded the contents. He could see curiosity and a hint of
trepidation in her eyes as she read through the lines with her eyes.

"Tabby and Lee?" She kept her voice soft not wanting any unwarranted
attention. "Who are they?"

"It's a mystery for sure," he commented as she lifted the bag with the
leaf. "This was inside."

"A dead leaf," she confirmed.

"It might look insignificant to us but we both know it's some kind of
clue." She noticed her reach into her jacket pocket and produce what
were clearly the two notes she had received so far.

John took them both and lay the first one on the coffee table next to
his then opened the one Monica had found in her apartment.

"I don't like this John. Why us?" Monica's voice was tinged with
urgency.

He read the note quietly, "It says, 'I could read the bold, black
headline from across the room: LOCAL MYSTERY: 4 HAVE VANISHED.'" He
placed the note next to the others. "Does Skinner know about this?"

"Not yet. John," she went on quickly. "If I go to him now then he'll
put me on the case with another partner. I want you John, only you."

"You don't know how much I want it too but Skinner's not going to
agree to cutting my suspension short to follow this case." He looked
to Monica and saw that she agreed. "What about this, 'Four have
vanished'? It sounds urgent."

"I checked all the recent news and the FBI database. There's nothing
out there that resembles what we have here." She began to fixate on
the notes before them.

"What?" John knew from past experience that Monica's thoughts were
racing.

"The notes, they're all torn from what seems like the same book but
look at the symbols at the top of each." She put a finger on the first
note. "This is an upward arrow then a key. On this one there's an
acorn shape with two upward arrows." It was beginning to make sense as
Monica spoke. He finger rested on the symbols of the third note. "A
key and an arrow."

"You're suggesting these might be numbers?" John was catching on.

"Possibly page numbers." As they were concentrating on deciphering the
puzzle they felt a presence beside them.

"Are you Agents Doggett and Reyes?" They looked up to see the blond
haired attendant holding out something in her hand.

With puzzled looks they glanced at each other before nodding
agreement.

"Why?" Monica asked.

"This is for you." She handed them a similar envelope to the one John
had receive that morning.

"How did you get this?" John interrogated.

"It was on the floor when I opened up this morning. I thought maybe
you fitted the description." Oblivious to the irony of the situation
the attendant smiled and walked back to her station.

~~~~~

"How would the perp know that we would be coming here?" John asked the
question they were both thinking. The whole situation was becoming
stranger by the minute.

"The only way would be if they overheard our phone conversation. They
couldn't have followed us if the envelope was already here when we
arrived." She moved a little closer to her partner as though gaining
comfort from his proximity.

"I don't like the way this is heading." John rested a light hand on
her knee acknowledging her closeness. "Let's see what's inside here
and piece all this together."

The package was bulky as if something was inside. John weighed the
envelope in his hand making it out to be heavier than the earlier one.
Giving Monica a puzzled but determined looked he carefully opened the
flap. Tipping it over he let the object slip out onto the table.

"A Snickers bar," Monica mentioned aloud. As she spoke John was
opening the new note. "What's it say?"

There in the same handwriting as the other three notes was a fourth
message.
"'At first I thought he was a policemen. But as he stepped under a
streetlight, I saw that he wore a blue work uniform.'" John slowly
looked up at Monica's similarly puzzled features. Then she seemed to
have an idea.

"John, look at the symbols at the top of the paper, two keys and three
arrows." She took the message from John and then arranged the notes in
an order that she would need to reveal. "Do you notice a pattern
here?"

"With the symbols?" John slowly shook his head but was still
scrutinizing the figures.

"The first note has an acorn shape and two upward arrows, the second
has an arrow and a key," she broke allowing John to respond.

"You think they're some sort of numbers, page numbers or something?"
As he spoke her fingers went to the final two symbols.

"A little like Roman numerals. If the arrow is a one and the acorn a
five then the first note must be a seven." Her finger went to the next
note. "This must be a nine. The key could represent a ten."

"That would mean this one would be an eleven and the last note," he
picked it up for a closer look. "The two keys and three arrows would
make it twenty-three. Don't tell me there are more of these to come."

"I don't know but I'm not waiting round for them. We need to do
something now." She shifted on an angle with her knees touching his.
"Look at the gifts he's given us. A snickers bar, a leaf, a Hershey's
Kisses."

"But nothing with your first note." John reminded.

"That's what I thought too." 

"You found something." John read his partner's expression.

"I thought nothing of it at first but I found something on the floor
just at the office door. A pumpkin seed." She pulled a piece of
plastic out of her pocket and showed the small evidence bag to John.

"A pumpkin seed," John repeated as he held in up looking at the small
almost unnoticeable contents. "This makes no sense."

"There's something here John." Her eyes moved over the contents on the
coffee table. "Something tells me there will be no more notes and that
we have all the information we need."

"Well you're seeing something I'm not." John slowly shook his head.

At that moment Monica stood and picked up one of the notes, some
confidence in her air. Walking over to the attendant John heard her
ask to use a terminal.

"John, there's a reason why we were directed to this place." Without
explaining further she sat at one computer and drew up a chair for her
partner.

~~~~~

Monica surfed into google search on the computer.

"What are you doing Monica?" John looked at the screen and then her.
He was getting used to the way her mind worked. It was certainly on a
different tangent to his but that's why their partnership worked. Each
agent came from a different angle; saw different parts of the same
from an adjacent point of view.

"Look at this note." She let him take it from her as she finally
produced her reading glasses from her jacket pocket and put them on
before typing in something on the screen.

"This is the one the perp so kindly left in my mail box." He read it
over in his mind and then looked up to the screen.

"Look at the names, 'Come to your grave Tabby and Lee'." Monica
intently looked over the products of her search. "Ah hah." Her curser
rested on a link about fourth from the top of the screen and then
clicked.

"What is it?" John carefully folded the note and placed it back in his
pocket.

"Goosebumps." Was Monica's simple reply.

"Goosebumps." John gave her a baffled look.

"John, you've been a father. They are a series of scary children's
books by R.L Stine." Monica took one last look at the screen reading
the title and then logged off.

"You and I both know it's been a while." John took Monica's cue and
stood with her.

"Well you will need to get used to that again," she mentioned softly
as she took one hand in hers and then the other. Moving her body close
she slipped her arms around his middle.

John felt an overwhelming rush of realization. Monica was pregnant
with his child and indeed there would be a whole new world after the
child was born. Even Monica as first time mother would not expect the
overpowering comprehension that it would be a whole new life for which
they would be responsible. They would be accountable for bringing the
child up to be safe, healthy, educated and loved.

"Monica, not here," he said barely audibly as he looked at a few
smiling faces around the room.

"Okay." Still smiling she gave his hands a squeeze and let go. "Come
on, let's collect our things. There's a book store down the road."

~~~~~

Chapter Four

What they had bought at the bookstore was safely in Monica's
possession but before any more investigation they needed to find a
quiet place to talk and above all to be able to act like lovers. Apart
from sleeping together the previous night they had seen little of each
other for a month. Since first realizing their deep affection as a
couple their natural urges were to want to be together, to touch, to
hold each other, to talk.

There was much to catch up on. John still felt remorse for reacting
harshly to the news of Monica's pregnancy. He wanted to make it up to
her and the one day and two nights he had been with her since then, in
his mind was not enough to make amends.

Monica seemed to know that part of DC better than he and led him to an
area of about half a block that had been converted into parkland, a
little area of green, colorful gardens and peaceful solitude in a busy
city.

"No one will see us here," Monica assured as she led him to a garden
seat away from the central path.

Although the weather was crisp, as long as they wore their jackets the
small amount of sun was enough to keep their minds on the case clues
rather than the elements.

"'Attack of the Jack-O'-Lanterns' by R.L. Stine," John repeated the
name of the book they had bought at the bookstore. Everything led to
that book and Monica began opening the pages expecting the words to
jump out at her.

"Those symbols are not page numbers John, look." Monica had opened
page twenty-six but what caught his eye first was the large number
seven to indicate the chapter. The next he saw was the message on the
note he had mysteriously received that morning, the message that had
given them enough of a clue to find where it had come from.

"Come with me.
Come home with me now.
Come home to where you belong.
Come to your grave Tabby and Lee.
I have come for you and you alone.
Come Tabby and Lee. Come with me now."

They both shared worried looks. It was becoming all too real and not a
joke any more.

"So Tabby and Lee are fictional children," Monica was flicking through
the book looking for other clues. "Tabby is short for Tabitha and Lee
is an AfricanAmerican boy."

"I still don't get it. Do you think there's a real danger here?" John
was being careful how to proceed. If it was just a prank by a mate
then it was going past a joke. If it was a real threat then it needed
to be acted upon and soon. Any other day he and Monica would be
investigating further without a question. The fact that he was still
on suspension from the Bureau made it a difficult position to be in.

After finding the first three messages Monica flicked through the
pages to Chapter Twenty-Three and ran her finger down the lines. As
she read through the lines of the message again her eyes widened.

"What?" John seemed to be relying on Monica and her imagination to be
coming up with leads. "What is it Monica?"

.......

"Let me see those notes again." John handed over the pages and she
intently flipped through them. "This one." John just frowned and shook
his head. "I know what this is. 'At first I thought he was a
policemen. But as he stepped under a streetlight, I saw that he wore a
blue work uniform.' Where have we seen this before?"

"Monica, I'm not sure I understand?" She was trying to help him also
work out a lead but he was clueless.

"A month back, that case in Palmerton with the missing boy?" John let
her continue with her thoughts. "You know, after the case we stayed in
a motel on the way home."

He may have forgotten a few details of that case but that night was
something John would never forget.

"I remember." He must have blushed because Monica couldn't help but
show a smile.

"We were entering the town and there was a large advertisement on the
side of a building. I wouldn't have remembered it if it wasn't for
this note." Monica shook the wad of paper. "It was for a company that
sold workplace clothes and had a man dressed in a blue uniform."

"Monica, that's a long shot." John was once again the doubter.

"Is it?" She shuffled through the notes again and found the first one
she had received. "It talks here about the black wood of the trees,
'My shoes crunched over frost-covered dead leaves. The sky seemed to
grow darker as we made our way past the bare black trees of the
woods.' Don't you remember? Where we busted that cult, the one where
Samuel's father had taken him. It was in the middle of an area just
like what this describes."

"This is reaching Monica." He still wasn't convinced it was serious
enough to break his terms of suspension to follow the case.

"Is it John? Don't you see? It all fits." Monica turned on an angle to
look more into his eyes and spoke softly. "Do you remember the boy's
father and his last words to us before being taken away?"

"That was just to get up our goat. We'd busted his ass, what was he to
say?" John stood and looked down to Monica who was prepared to still
sit.

"He said, 'Agents beware, you're in a for a scare.'" His partner
reminded as she stood beside him and handed him the book presenting it
with the back cover showing. "At the time it might have been mindless
but look at this."

As John read what was on the back cover it was his turn to be
enlightened. It was the turning point where the bit of horseplay
became something more sinister.

"'Reader beware  you're in a for a scare!'" He read it with a soft
voice and then looked up to a face that knew she had convinced him.
"But the boy's father was put away, we know that with our follow-up
call a week later."

"Then something has happened John. For some reason he is free and he
wants revenge." As she spoke she looked around the parkland as though
there could be watchful eyes. His gaze followed hers.

"You don't think he's been following us." He wanted to put a
protective arm around her but somehow in public it was still a little
awkward for him. There would come a time they could freely express
their love and affection for each other no matter where they were.
John knew that he wanted it to be sooner rather than later. He had
already waited so many years.

"I think he's had his fun with us and now expects us to follow these
leads."

"Then why should we give him that satisfaction?" It was John's logical
comeback.

"John what if there are children involved here, what if there will be
a child in danger?" She looked him squarely in the eyes. "Everything
here leads to children, the Goosebumps book, Tabby and Lee, the trick
or treat items." Sensing his apprehension she moved closer, resting a
hand on his. "I need you with me on this John. It's clearly 'our'
case."

As she moved her arms around him, like melting ice he slowly relented
and matched her embrace.

"This could mean my job Monica, if I'm caught. No way would Skinner
agree to me doing this." His face was close to hers as he spoke
quietly.

"Then we won't get caught." For reassurance she gave him a small kiss
on the lips and then ran her fingers over his cheek admiring her
catch.

"How can I explain being away from home? What if Skinner calls?" As he
spoke Monica's fingers were playing with the back of his neck.

"I'm sure you'll think of something." She grinned and then pulled him
down for a deeper kiss. His surroundings and concerns had temporarily
vanished as he lost himself in that kiss. It was designed to show him
that love was far more important than anything else. He had a loving
woman who was carrying his unborn child. They had a job that was
certainly eventful and full of surprises.

Life with Monica would always be novel and exciting.

~~~~~~~~

From holosweet@yahoo.com.au Wed Dec 24 15:48:32 2003
Date: 23 Dec 2003 15:14:15 -0800
From: RPcrazy <holosweet@yahoo.com.au>
Newsgroups: alt.tv.x-files.creative
Subject: Regrets 2: Reunion DRR by RPcrazy (2/2)

Chapter Five

Palmerton Police Headquarters stood in the center of town, a building
that spoke law enforcement. The two agents conveniently found a park
out front and made their way to the front entrance.

They had made little delay on beginning their trip back to the
environs of the case they had left seemingly solved over three months
back.

Monica had signed out an FBI vehicle to show she was on Bureau
business but declined to mention who would be accompanying her. If
questioned about going alone she would just plead that she was only
following up on a lead and thought nothing of it seeing her partner
would be gone for the next week. Naturally if he was on duty they
would be going together.

If anyone was to check in on him John had left the house as though he
was still around and had just momentarily popped out. His truck was in
his garage, the curtains were partially open letting any onlooker see
that his interior had a few things strewn about. There were even
dishes in his sink, something he would only do if he was home. In case
he would be away for a couple of days he'd even asked a neighbor to
check the post for him and anything that would suggest he wasn't at
home or close by.

They had both brought a few provisions in the event they needed to
stay overnight. Deep down they both hoped that it was just a prank so
played it a little low key over the phone. They had decided to let the
detective in charge of the case Palmerton end make his her own
observations.

"We're Agents Doggett and Reyes," John mentioned to the welcoming
party of one, a short balding man in a suit that at first glance
seemed a little oversized. He was certainly not the bodiment of who
they would have expected to greet them at a Police station "Ah,
Detective Bartlett has been expecting you." He went to shake both
their hands. It was firm for his size. "I'm Mayor Tim Sayers, you
might have heard of me."

John's eyes enlarged in recognition and he half expected his partner
to have reacted the same way. It had only been a month since the
well-publicized mayoral election of Palmerton, Pennsylvania.

"Hello Mayor," Reyes decided to choose her next words carefully as
they followed the short yet full of character man down a busy hallway.
"You look different from your photos."

"Ah yes!" He turned and opened a door to his right a bright, confident
look on his face. "Photos can be flattering. Here we are, Detective
Bartlett's office."

"Can I ask why a mayor is working in Police Headquarters?" John could
sense that his partner felt the same way.

"This is the way I stay in touch with my constituents. One day a week
I go into the community and work there." For a little guy the man
exuded charisma. "That way I can sense the working environment first
hand. Knowing the community means making wise decisions for the
people."

How could either of them dispute that? This man left them both
thinking why it wasn't common practice in other communities. John
pursed his lips and nodded his acceptance.
As they entered the room, the mayor had one last comment, one that
left both agents a little puzzled.

"Hope you catch the culprit." He said it with a wink making John and
Monica wonder whether it was said as a joke considering their
profession or was there a deeper meaning? They had given each other
confused looks but when they looked back at the door he was gone.

"Senior Detective Bartlett will be with you shortly," came the
response from behind the desk in reception. If she hadn't spoken then
the two agents may not have noticed her in the same room. She was a
slight woman probably in her late teens, quite nondescript in the
features department. They both wondered what had become of the
Detective's previous secretary, the one who had received the original
call of the tip-off about the cult and its whereabouts. It all led to
the original solving of the case and the capture of Dan Murphy, the
father of Josh who had been abducted and then been subsequently at the
mercy of the cult.

Even before they could respond, the internal door opened and out came
the larger than life detective.

"Agent Reyes." She held out her hand for the greeting. "Agent
Doggett." She did the same for John. "Please come in." She turned
letting the agents follow. From behind, the door quietly closed as if
by itself. "I didn't think we'd be seeing you back so soon."

Senior Detective Marion Bartlett was a big woman, not just in size but
height. She seemed strong in both body and personality. John
remembered his and Monica's conversation back in the car those weeks
back sharing a laugh over if she ever decided on a change of career
they could see her as a nightclub bouncer. John wondered if his
partner was thinking the same. After a quick glance to each other
their eyes met in a half smile.

"Us either Senior Detective." Monica was always the polite one. "But
we really need you to have a look at what we've got."

"Please call me Marion, I mentioned that last time." For a woman who
appeared so formal it seemed off beam to be on first name basis so the
two agents used it sparingly.

"We'd like you to take a look at these and see what you think." Monica
decided to get straight to the point. From a satchel she retrieved the
notes and four evidence bags. It all looked so formal for something
that could realistically be a prank but they were playing the safe
side.

As Monica placed the evidence on the desk before the detective, John
watched her mannerisms. That was what he was trained to do and did so
well. The slightest flinch or facial movement could tell him a whole
story, give him an unexpected lead.

Monica explained how they had received the notes but not what they had
discussed, leaving that for the detective to decipher.

Mumbling to herself the agents let her think, "Tabby and Lee, four
have vanished, dead leaves, black trees, blue work uniform." Her eyes
scrutinized the clear plastic bags and her eyebrows rose. John could
see nothing in her features that would suggest any type of
recognition. There was nothing and yet that was unusual in itself.
Surely there would have been more surprise. Perhaps she could at least
show a frown of concentration.

"What do you think? Is this linked with the cult case?" Monica wanted
some sort of reasoning from the woman on the other side of the ample
desk.

"I don't know," her speech was drawn out as once more she poured over
the notes. "Is this all you have?"

At that moment Monica pulled something more from her bag and handed it
over the desk.

"Goosebumps, a series of children's books by the author R.L. Stine."
She let the detective take it from her hand. "This one is called,
'Attack of the Jack-O'-Lanterns'. All those quotes come from this
book."

John could see that Monica was becoming uneasy and he understood why.
The woman behind the desk was being quite noncommittal. It was
becoming clearer by the moment that she knew something but was not
sharing.

"Senior Detective," John wanted to stay in professional mode with this
woman. He had experienced her hard-handed ways since they were there
last and didn't want any familiarity getting in the way of solving the
puzzle. "If you know something then we'd appreciate you sharing. Agent
Reyes and myself have had our privacy violated here. The person who
planted these notes knows where we live. It seems they also know what
we do, where we go."

"Well in all honesty I don't know what this has to do with this town."
She stood as though the meeting was almost up and began gathering the
evidence in front of her. John and Monica remained seated. They were
far from finished with the meeting.

"I think it is." Monica spoke in a more forceful tone; the one John
loved to hear. It was the tone she used to show she could match
personalities with the best of them. "The blue work uniform relates to
the painted advertisement on the side of the Brown's Realty a few
blocks from here."

"There must be many of those in DC. Maybe you should be looking
there." She was waving the wad of paper over the desk for one of them
to take but Monica stood her ground.

"That company isn't a DC one. It's based here in Pennsylvania and has
a sister company in Maryland."

"Then maybe you should be going to Maryland." Her face had turned
sour. When a woman in power used that stance John knew it was time to
back off. There were other ways.

John stood and took the evidence whether his partner wanted him to or
not.

"Just two questions and then we'll be on our way." John posed.

"Okay." The senior detective seemed to be appeased by that.

"Dan Murphy, the father of the abducted boy, he's still in prison
right?" They had been told that on the phone but he wanted her to
respond in person.

"Yes, he has been incarcerated since being found guilty of kidnapping
over three months back." She seemed to be telling the truth.

"And there have been no reports of missing children, people in the
last few days?" John added.

"None around these parts." She then took a steadfast stance.. "Maybe
in Maryland."

Without any more words they left the Detective's office. Just as they
exited, John turned to face her once more and knew from all the
experience gleaned from years in investigation that there was more
than met the eye. She knew he knew it too.

~~~~~

"John, what do we do now?" They were out in the street after being
waved goodbye by the mayor.

"Come on Monica, let's go." He ushered her to the FBI issue sedan.
"This is not the place to talk."

Once donning their seatbelts and moving into the traffic, securely
away from prying ears it was safer for discussion.

"She knows something." They both unexpectedly said the statement at
the same time. It wasn't often their brains were on the same
wavelength.

"Link pinkies." Monica held out her little finger but John just looked
at it briefly as he drove.

"What? That's a child's game Monica." He rolled his eyes but still
chuckled.

"You're going to need to get used to child's games John," she so aptly
reminded and then laughed herself. He smiled and nodded and then
linked his pinky with hers. "What did you wish for?"

"I thought the wish didn't come true if you told?" John questioned.

"Well if you don't tell, who will there be to help you achieve that
wish?" Monica had a point but John's wish was something he would keep
to himself until later.

"You'll find out." Secretly smiling he went back to concentrating on
the traffic along Delaware Avenue. Monica also smiled probably
guessing what he had in mind.

"What involvement do you think she has in this John?" She looked
behind her as she spoke.

"You think we're being followed?" Looking in the rearview mirror
revealed nothing suspicious.

"I just have this feeling that all is not as it seems here. Dan Murphy
is still in prison. There have been no reported abductions." She spoke
as she thought it all out. "Maybe this has nothing to do with our cult
case."

"So we came all this way for nothing?" John's expression turned
serious.

"Oh no, there's definitely something here, just not what we thought."
Monica looked back again and then rested a hand on her partner's arm.
"John, stop here for a moment." He quickly found a park in a side
street by the town's athletic field.

"Did you see something?" John also turned to look behind them. Just at
the corner of Delaware Avenue and the one they were parked was the
hood of a vehicle, barely visible. "What do they want with us? Why
us?"

"Let me drive." Monica got out of the vehicle and around to the
driver's side. John had already shuffled over to the passenger seat.
There would be no argument when his partner seemed to know what she
was doing. "I'm going to lose them and then I think I know where we're
meant to go next."

"Where?" John was completely baffled.

~~~~~

Monica had meandered in and out of streets until she was sure they
were not being tailed and then made her hasty way along route 86
traveling northwest. It wasn't until they passed the gravel pit that
John knew where they were headed.

"I thought this had nothing to do with our original case?" John looked
over to the driver with confusion.

"I don't think it does." Monica kept an eye peeled in the rearview
mirror but was satisfied there was no one following. "You asked the
question before 'why us?', I think this person chose us deliberately."

"Deliberately," John wanted assurance.

"Why would us of all people be targeted?" She turned onto the dirt
track off to the left and the car made its bumpy way along the path
that few vehicles had traveled.

"Because we're the X-Files," It was beginning to make a little sense.
"So you think this is an X-File after all and not a case of falling
into a trap that has been neatly set out for us?"

"Have you noticed that even though our personal lives have been
invaded we don't feel threatened?" Monica pulled the car up a little
way from the log cabin the cult had used for their practices. It was
set in bush land just as one of the notes had indicated. A fire that
had raged a few years back had blackened the trees but new vegetation
had grown back. The forest floor was covered with leaf litter that was
damp from recent rain. "Did you bring your weapon?"

Instinctively John's hands went to his gun belt but it was not there.

"No." He looked even more puzzled than he had before.

"Neither did I." Monica undid her seatbelt all the time looking across
at the seemingly abandoned building. "It never crossed my mind."

"I always carry my weapon on cases like this." He got out of the car
and followed his partner. Just as he reached her the ground seemed to
give way beneath his feet. All turned into a blur as he landed with a
thud, something heavy on his chest winding him.

~~~~~

"John? John!" The voice was getting louder as he opened his eyes to
darkness. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head more to see if he could move. There was a sharp pain
in his wrist and in one ankle. His head fell back as he rode the
throbbing sensations.

"What happened?" His head was still a little groggy. "Monica, are you
okay?" He reached his good hand out to touch her.

"I'm all right John, I landed on top of you." He could feel her arm
under his urging him to his feet.

Calling out in pain she quickly let go. The tenderness in his wrist
was unbearable.

"My wrist." He managed to explain.

"We need to get help John." The comment seemed arguable in the
surrounding unfamiliar darkness. "Can you stand?" With his good hand
he steadied himself and as he stood he almost fell again as his ankle
cried out in agony.

"My ankle." He explained further. Resting against an earthen wall he
collected his breath.

"Looks like we've fallen down an old dried up well." John could tell
that his partner was feeling around the area they had landed. "We have
to get out of here."

Just as she said the words there appeared some golden light to one
side. As their eyes adjusted to the faint glow it made out some sort
of underground tunnel. Without the need for words Monica put an arm
around her partner for support and they made slow progress along its
length.

Every so often the couple needed to stop while John rode the agony in
his ankle.

"John," she said softly. "Something tells me we were meant to be
here."

"You think this has all been planned?" They came to a dead end with a
small very low wattage light globe about half way up one wall. As she
felt around the walls Monica explained.

"The notes, the gifts, the internet caf. This person knew exactly
what we would do even before we knew it ourselves. Someone must have
switched on this light." There was no visible way of exiting the
tunnel until Monica looked up.

"It could be a sensor light." John again leant against one wall to
relieve the pressure from his excruciating ankle. Monica found some
indentations in the wall and began a slow journey climbing up the
footholds. "Be careful Monica. Remember you're pregnant." Immediately
the pain in his ankle was secondary to what was then on his mind. It
was lucky that his body had broken her fall. In the past falls like
that could mean pregnancy complications.

As she made her way to the top she began pushing on the ceiling. After
a few pushes he could see some slits of light. With a big heave there
was sudden light streaming through what appeared to be a trap door. At
first the brightness blinded them until their eyes focused.

"Monica, I'm not going to be able to climb up there." Even though he
had promised himself he would not complain but be thankful his wounds
had prevented injury to his partner he had to face facts. He was stuck
unless Monica could find an easier way for him to get up there.

"Wait there." Monica's words were redundant but still comforting as
she lifted herself up into what must have been a room of the log
cabin. He could hear her shuffling above and then something was being
passed down through the opening, a ladder. "Well, this was
conveniently easy to find."

"It would be wouldn't it?" John knew it would be painful to climb but
it was better than the alternative. "With a trap door here and all?"

"That's just it. What are trap doors for John, but as a secret
escape?" He was half way up when he had to take a few moments rest.
"The ladder would be hidden away too until needed."

"So you're still saying that this has all been planned?" John tried
again to climb, keeping his pain to himself.

"When you're up here look at this." It gave him further incentive to
get to the top. Monica helped him the rest of the way to a standing
position inside a room well illuminated by strategic windows letting
in the afternoon daylight. "How do you explain that?"

John looked from where he had come to see a rectangular patch of floor
that looked darker than the surrounding area. Monica closed the door
and then went to one side of the room where she found a piece of floor
covering what John just knew would exactly fit the irregular patch
surrounding the trap door.

"Someone knew we would be coming through there." John imagined what
Monica was thinking.

"And look over here." She took his good hand and helped him hobble
over to the only table in the room.

Slowly but surely John was being convinced. There on the table was a
first aid box. Lifting the lid Monica pulled out some bandages.

"Here, sit down." She pulled out a chair and arranged it for easy
access. Unraveling the gauze she proceeded to wrap John's apparently
broken wrist. "This should give you some support until we can get a
doctor to look at it." Over and over she surrounded his wrist, then
with the scissors and fastener finished off the makeshift bandage job.

"So this person is predicting what we'll do? That's some damn
prediction. Maybe the X-File is that he has a crystal ball." John
winced as Monica began binding his swelling ankle.

"That's not as silly as it sounds but I think it's more than that."
She continued as she wound the fabric in circles. "It almost like he's
reading our future minds."

........

"Future minds? You're making no sense Monica." John was becoming a
little short tempered. It was hard going internalizing his obvious
physical discomfort and trying to think laterally at the same time.

"This person knew we would be meeting at that Internet caf even
before I thought it." She continued carefully working on her partner's
injured ankle. "At first I thought maybe when he entered my apartment
he saw it advertized somewhere or he left a clue that put the thought
in my mind but it was nothing like that."

"Then how did you know about the place and why there?" John was
certainly intrigued but still it was incomprehensible.

"Just before I rang you I'd heard it advertized on the radio." She
finished fastening the bandage and then looked up to see John's
strained face. At that moment she must have seen his pain.

"So you're telling me that this guy left the note addressed to us at
the Mousetrap Internet caf even before you'd heard about the place?
That's some feat Monica."

"Don't ask me to explain it but we do need to look around this place."
She stood, and did a sweep of the room as if searching for something
in particular. Walking over to one side of the area John's eyes really
widened at what she brought back with her.

"Who would leave a first aid kit and a walking crutch in plain sight
in an abandoned cabin?" John's mind was finding it difficult to grasp
the incredulity of the situation. He would have preferred to have
applied the Occams' Razor theory but it was certainly looking much
more complicated.

Monica just displayed a 'believe me now?' look.

A search of the cabin proved that it was indeed unoccupied and had not
been lived in since the cult days months back. There were however a
few signs that someone had been there and may be returning. The
kitchenette cupboard had a few provisions.

The afternoon was turning to dusk as they decided that hunger was
looming and to share some of the rations. They had come this far and
something told them that they were in the right place at the right
time. Even though John needed medical attention for his injuries it
could wait. Monica had found some strong pain relievers in the first
aid box and he felt a little numbed by their reaction.

One hour led into two as they waited knowing that was the right
approach. Monica found a gas stove and put a kettle on to boil for
coffee.

It wasn't until they were part way through the warming brew that they
heard something at the cabin front door. It was dark out by then and
Monica had lit a few candles for some illumination.

"Who is it?" Monica called as John hobbled behind her to the front
entrance. There was no reply and they had no weapons for protection so
would have to trust that they were in no danger. To add the element of
surprise Monica quickly flung open the door and then stepped back out
of the way.

The porch was empty.

"You two are predictable." The sudden unexpected yet familiar voice
came from behind them making them jump. John once again felt the
pulling sensation on his wrist telling him the pain relief was wearing
off. "Agent Doggett, you really need to see a doctor about that wrist
of yours."

Both agents' mouths just hung open recognizing but not comprehending
the person before them.

~~~~~

"Gibson, this was you?" John couldn't believe his eyes at seeing the
boy they hadn't seen since Mulder and Scully had fled after Mulder's
prison escape.

"You planned all this?" It was Monica's turn to question.

"Not exactly." He walked to the kitchen with the agents following,
John hobbling along as best he could. He must have known how much pain
John bore because he sat at the table beckoning the couple to also
sit.

"Where have you been Gibson? We were worried about you." Monica's
nurturing quality shone through when it came to Gibson. He had also
seen that with Scully and Mulder's William. It was part of the reason
he knew she would make a perfect mother for their child.

"I've been on the run. I couldn't take you up on the offer to protect
me, not then." For a fugitive he looked healthy and well fed just a
little sad. John had had a hard life but it was nothing compared with
the teenage boy in front of him. He empathized with the youth.

"So that's what all this is about? You got our attention because you
want our protection now? All you had to do was say so and we would
have been there for you Gibson." Monica rested a linking hand on
John's arm.

"I know about your baby." He looked to her belly.

"You read my mind?" Monica was surprised but not offended. It was
probably because she rarely had a harsh thought about anyone.

Gibson just shook his head making the agents even more confused.
Besides Monica's parents, John and she were the only ones who knew
about the pregnancy.

"Then how? How did you do all this Gibson?" Monica was clearly curious
as to the extent of Gibson's abilities. So was John. They had both
come to believe that he could read people's thoughts but to read their
future thoughts and predict their actions was something new.

"What did you mean 'not exactly' planning all this?" John was not
going to let that initial statement go. If he didn't exactly arrange
it then it certainly went to some sort of plan.

Gibson casually looked across to the open door of a room that was
bathed in darkness.

There was movement and then something else came into view.

.....

"Meet Gizelle." The agents looked across to the doorway not at all
expecting to see the person they did. "Gizi, you've met Agents Doggett
and Reyes."

"Pleased to meet you again," came the same sheepish voice they had
heard that day in the Palmerton Police station. She was just as
unassuming as they had originally seen her sitting outside Senior
Detective Bartlett's office as her secretary.

"Gizelle?" Monica just shook her head still stunned by her unexpected
appearance. "This was all you then?" The girl would have been in her
late teens making her a couple of years older than Gibson.

"Gizi is like me but with her own unique abilities." Gibson explained
seeming to know that his friend was too shy to talk about herself.
"There are more of us out there. That's why I couldn't stay with you.
I wanted to find them."

John seemed to know there would be more children like Gibson but had
not pursued his thoughts. Maybe one day when their X-Files plate was
not so full that would be a case they could have conquered but on the
other side it could also put these children in more danger than they
deserved. Just knowing that his thoughts were validated would be
enough for the time being.

"Gibson, there's not much time." Gizelle's voice sounded concerned.

"Not much time?" John tried to be as compassionate as his maleness
would allow. "Are they coming?"

"Who's coming?" Monica added.

"I think you know," was all Gibson mentioned.

"Gizelle, we have to know. How did you do it and why?" Monica could
tell there was urgency in the girl's action but they all had to know.

"I wanted you to know because you understand. The others just...." She
broke down and flopped on the spare seat. In a fashion that the agents
hadn't seen before Gibson put a comforting arm around his friend and
continued for her.

"They don't know it's her yet but it's only a matter of time." He
looked down with concern at the form in his arms and then back at the
agents. "They somehow know there is someone like Gizi with her ability
to read more than just minds but be able to predict their actions to
almost perfect precision."

"They? Are they the super soldiers?  Some other aliens, the
government?" John was continuing to fit the pieces, as was Monica. He
also knew that Gibson probably didn't know exactly who the 'they'
were. Maybe it was indeed some government faction that would want to
study anyone who had abilities that could be useful in the event of
the future alien invasion.

"So they want to study Gizelle like they studied you." Monica knew the
thought was a painful one for Gibson but also knew that knowing what
he did and going through those dreadful experiences would urge him to
protect others with his life.

"Then why go to all that trouble with the notes? You must have known
we'd go to the Palmerton police." That was still confusing John. Why
not just come straight to them?

"We wanted them to know that you knew." The girl had composed herself
enough to sit up and talk. "That way it would hopefully put them off
track."

"Come back with us," John was in his insisting mood. "We will protect
the two of you."

"If I leave Palmerton now they will know it's me." Gizelle was making
sense. "I must go back to my job. That way I can monitor the
situation. Bartlett might be a tyrant but I can still predict what she
will do." The wisp of a girl uneasily looked across to the door as
though looking past it. "Gibson!"

"We have to go." The teenage boy stood and helped his friend to stand.

"Okay," John accepted. "Will we see you again?"

"I will find a way." The two left the kitchen as quickly as they had
appeared. Only moments later there were sounds of vehicles and then
loud chatter coming from what sounded like a large posse surrounding
them outside.

A moment hence there was a loud rapping at the door.

"FBI, open up!" came the familiar voice from the other side of the
door. The agents looked around them but as if by magic the teenagers
were nowhere to be seen. Before opening the door to the inquisition
John quickly flicked back the remaining piece of floor covering to
once again conceal the trap door.


Chapter Six

"I don't think you'll lose your job John," Monica was consoling as the
doctor added a fresh bandage to John's twisted, swollen ankle.

"Give that an hour to set and you can be on your way Agent Doggett."
He pretended to pat the plaster cast that was all the way from John's
hand almost up to the elbow.

"How long will I need this?" With frustration John examined the
doctor's handiwork.

"Keep it inactive and about six weeks should do the trick." He was
smirking under his breath, which added to John's annoyance. How was he
meant to keep fit with a bung ankle and a broken wrist? How was he
going to be able to make love to the woman he loved more than anything
in the world?

The doctor left with the promise of returning when the hour was up to
check all was right to leave the hospital and return to DC.

"John, with what we know now, it's all the more important that the
X-Files go on and with you running them." Monica continued.

"So you think it's safe to tell Skinner everything?" John was
doubtful.

"I don't think he needs to know every detail but we can tell him about
meeting Gibson and that he contacted us this way to tell us he thinks
there are others out there like him and he's in search of them."

"Would he buy that?" John was careful not to speak too loudly.

"He's an astute man. He'll know we are keeping something from him."
She sat on the trolley where John was then sitting. "But I also know
he won't probe. For obvious reasons we know and he knows there are
some things better kept from him."

There was a cough at the door and the agents wondered how much
Assistant Director Skinner had overheard. They had been careful to
keep their voices low.

"You did a foolish thing John." Skinner seemed his authoritative self,
leaving both agents to wonder where the conversation was heading.
"Breaking your suspension."

"Sorry sir but we thought this case needed urgent action." What else
could he say? It was true. The case had been designed for Special
Agents Doggett and Reyes and them alone. It had been Gibson who had
known all the information about them and where they lived. He had
probably been the one who had made the trip to DC.

"To be frank sir, I would do the same again." That way his boss would
understand that the situation was indeed an important one without
having to tell him too much.

"I know and that's why the only action I'm taking is leaving the
suspension on your permanent record." John breathed a sigh of relief.
That was a small price to pay compared with the bigger picture that
proceeding with the case had presented. Skinner looked across to an
equally surprised Monica. "You should have told me Agent Reyes."

It was then that each agent knew that Skinner knew about her
pregnancy.

"How did you find out sir?" Monica expressed John's curiosity.

"A call from Mexico wondering how you were." He didn't need to explain
further, the cat was out of the bag and probably at the right time
too. His eyes looked back to John and his injuries. "I think you'll be
glad to know it was all worth it."

"Sir?" Skinner's words needed an explanation.

"Put it this way, a little bird spoke in my ear that it's now more
important than ever that the X-Files stay open." Neither of them
needed any more details. That little bird was probably Gibson but his
name needed no mention. "Agent Doggett, I'll see you back on board
next Monday."

"Thank you sir." He'd expected as much that he would be required to
finish his suspension. A reduction in time was unrealistic seeing he
had flouted orders yet again.

"Agent Reyes, I'll see you in my office tomorrow." He started to walk
towards the door. "We need to talk about this new condition of yours."
Once at the door he turned and with just a hint of a smile he added,
"With Kim arrange an afternoon appointment."

"Sir?" Monica stopped him before he left. "Senior Detective Bartlett,
what's her involvement in all this?"

"I think we're safe on that one," he confided. "She knows only what we
want her to know. Just looking after her town and its reputation."

Then he was gone.

~~~~~

"You're not serious!" John looked across to The Blue Lagoon Inn, the
same one they had spent their first night together over three months
previously.

"John, it's late and I'm tired." There was a hint of a wink. "And
you're in no condition to drive." She looked behind her to the back
seat at his plaster cast and the elevated foot along the seat, and
then at the walking crutch lying along the floor.

Monica had a point. It had been a really long day, he had been injured
and was still feeling discomfort even after taking the prescribed pain
relievers. To lie between cool, clean sheets on a comfortable surface
was looking tempting.

Before he could even agree she was turning into the motel and pulling
up the car in the parking bay provided.

"Wait here, I'll go get us a room." Monica swiveled back and smiled.
"How are you feeling?" She looked down at his heavily bandaged ankle.

"I've been better." He didn't want to complain too much. That was not
his nature. He had been injured enough in the line of duty to come to
expect it as part of the job. Inwardly chuckling he thought about how
he'd never sustained injuries before from falling down an abandoned
well and a woman landing on him. How would it all look on the report?
"Monica," his voice went lower. There were a few people milling about
and he preferred they didn't overhear the private conversation. "I'm
tired and sore and in need of a hot shower. I'm not really up for it."
His eyes scouted around to a couple of people looking at him curiously
as they walked past.

"That's okay John." Monica reached back and ran a hand along his leg.
"We have plenty of other nights for sex." She smiled as she got out of
the car. Before closing the door she peered back in. "In six weeks
when your wrist's better we can try again then. I'm pregnant but I've
been reading and we can safely have sex all the way up to when the
baby's born." She left him to brood over the final comments.

"Monica!" He tried to call after her but she was gone. A frown
appeared on his face. Six weeks until more sex? She had to be kidding!
Was she teasing to get him thinking? He had heard how manipulative
women could be but surely not his Monica. He had gone months without
sleeping with a woman since his ex but with Monica it was different.
His body and soul craved to be with her.

Even just thinking about being in bed with his lover was starting to
liven his energy.

In no time the back door opened and Monica's sweet face was still
smiling at him, the same way as it had left.

"Need help?" She collected his wooden crutch and stood at the door as
he awkwardly slid over the seat.

"No, I'm right." He finally stood and he took the crutch from his
partner. It would have been far easier with two but there was the
problem of his wrist. Walking beside him she honored his wishes to do
it alone. It had been a while since the last time he had used such a
contraption. He was still a little out of practice.

Monica went a little forward and then through some double glass doors
to an elevator.

"Figured it'd take all night if you used the stairs." She chuckled as
the door dinged open. Holding it open allowed him enough time to
hobble inside.

"You could have just asked for a room on the ground floor." It seemed
logical but he knew Monica always did things for a reason.

"Not where we're going." She decided to play a game. For the first
time John noticed that she had both their overnight bags. He had been
so internal with his feelings and ailments he hadn't thought about how
she was feeling.

"You okay with all this? I mean, you don't have to look after me Mon.
I can take care of myself."

"I know you can John but isn't it better with two?" The elevator door
dinged open to a small foyer, unlike any motel he'd seen. There were
only two doors, one for the stairs and the other leading off a short
distance to the right. Using a keycard Monica unlocked the door and
let John through first.

"What is this?" John's eyes could not believe it was the same motel in
which they had previously stayed. The room was ample with faint violet
yet warm tones and a large king size bed in the center.
It was far larger and better appointed compared with anything he had
stayed in courtesy of the FBI.

"It was the only one with a special feature I was hoping for." Laying
the bags on a bench next to a large closet she began looking around
the room.
.....

"Special feature, you mean a bed big enough to fit a marines platoon
maybe two?" His eyes began to look worried. "Monica, you must have
spent a fortune on this. It's really not deserved. All I'll be doing
is sleeping. Look at me!"

Her smiling mouth and happy face were all he could see as she came up
close and wrapped her arms around his middle, being careful not to
knock him off balance.

"We're going to be parents in just under six months," she reminded as
she began unraveling his tie. "When will we get another opportunity
like this?"

"But Monica, as you can see I'm not in a shape I could put all this
luxury to good use." His eyes did a sweep of the room and then to the
marvelous nighttime view out the window, with the twinkling lights
from the township.

"Come," she motioned for him to follow. "I think you could put this to
good use." She was through the door that clearly led to the bathroom.
He could hear the faucet being turned and the rush of the water as he
finally made it through. The lighting was dim with the effect of
candlelight and the mist that clung in the air was so romantic.

Again his eyes displayed what he had not imagined. Instead of a bath
there was a spa, a huge shell shaped contraption. The water was
steaming from the faucet and Monica had found some scented bath
solution. As she poured, the sweet perfume filled the room.

"So this is that special feature?" He still couldn't believe what he
was seeing. Suddenly guilt overcame him. "We can't stay here Mon."

She must have known how he'd feel because her expression never
changed. Letting the water continue filling the shell Monica came over
to him and took his crutch leaving him to hop if he wanted to go
anywhere.

"John," she said softly as she assisted him to a ceramic bench clearly
made for sitting. "I know what you're thinking but I'm happy to look
after you. Let me do for you. This is just what you need to relax you"
Urging him to sit she knelt down and started taking off his only shoe,
then both socks, the second one over the bandage covering his badly
twisted ankle.

The thought of what she had in mind was beginning to excite him. It
was indeed a surprise that no other woman had offered him. As her
gentle fingers undid his buttons and took off his shirt, with each
touch his skin was tingling. He let her take off his undershirt
leaving him bare-chested. Without touching him sexually she slowly
took off his clothing until he sat in his briefs, his foot elevated on
a small stool. The plaster surrounding his mending broken wrist lay on
his lap.

"I have to keep this dry remember." In no way was John in a condition
to get up unassisted and find something to waterproof the plaster
cast. Not only because of his injuries but that this woman was
undressing him so sensually. Before, he was in no way ready for sex
but slowly she had been changing his mind with her actions.

Briefly exiting the room his partner came back with the plastic casing
the Palmerton hospital had provided. After wrapping the plaster she
began unraveling the bandage from his ankle.

"I don't want this getting wet. I'll put it back on later." After
gently kissing the visibly painful black and blue distended ankle she
helped him over to the side of the spa where the water level was
perfect. The bubbles, the steam, the golden light and the gentle hum
of the spa's motor created an atmosphere most conducive to relaxation.
"That oil I added is a muscle relaxant. It should help you sleep later
too." There was a rim around the edge of the bath that was meant for
sitting. It made it easier for John to be able to swivel his legs into
the water.

"You will join me?" John was beginning to think that the bath had just
been run for him. Monica had helped him off with his last article of
clothing and watched as he slid into the fiery liquid, she had made
sure that the plaster was resting on the spa rim, but she was making
her way to the bathroom door. It was as though she was serious about
looking after him as his nurse and not his lover.

"I was going to hop into bed and watch a little television." Was she
teasing again? If so it was well hidden. "John, if I join you, I'll
want to touch you and we can't risk injuring you further. I can wait
six weeks if I have to."

John's insides were screaming out for her to just strip off and slip
in beside him. The way he was feeling after those gentle fingers had
touched his skin, just her being close after so much time apart was
making his body respond in ways that forgot all about his wounds.

"Monica, you won't injure me, now please come back." If she had wanted
him to say that then it had worked. More than anything he wanted to
feel her naked body close again. Even if they kissed and he used his
good hand to touch her was better than no sexual activity at all.

"If you want, John." She came back a few minutes later dressed only in
a short bathrobe that hung slightly open at the front. Not even
looking at him she checked on the plastic covering his arm. Did she
know how the hint of what was underneath was turning him on beyond
distraction?

"Monica, just come here," he pleaded. Past hiding his true desires he
held out his good hand beckoning her to finally join him.

A suggestion of a smile crossed her lips as she slowly let the fabric
fall from her body revealing her slender, sexy physique underneath. If
he was in better form he would have pulled her in on top of him and
then rolled her over in the water kissing her wildly. He would have
taken her cues of readiness and then made love there in the water.
Unfortunately he was at her mercy and she was playing on his
helplessness.

He watched her every move as she slowly stepped into the ample tub
designed for two.

"Happy now?" She reached for the small square washcloth and dipped it
into the bubbles. "You just want me to wash you."

"Stop teasing me and just kiss me!" Trying to move too quickly sent a
sharp pain to his ankle and he screwed up his face in agony.

"There, you must keep still John." He felt the hot washer over his
face and then neck. The sensation rippled under the water and across
his chest then up over his shoulders. Her body was so near his barely
touching. His manly instinct was to reach out and hold her but he
couldn't move without something hurting. "How does that feel?" The
quietness of her voice matched the warm glow of the room.

"Hmm, good." His heartbeat elevated further as she replaced the cloth
with her fingers and felt down his good arm under the bubbles. As his
eyelids grew heavy all he could hear was her voice and the hum of the
spa motor. The fingers that had concentrated on his upper body were
slowly going further down. It was only a matter of time.

"Just let me do for you John," she reminded with a whisper, blowing
air on his cheek and then lips. Being careful to avoid the ankle she
gently lay above him. Knowing that his breathing was becoming
difficult to control, she covered his lips with her own. He wanted it,
he wanted her mouth to devour his no matter how painful it was to the
rest of his body. As his lips opened so did hers and making up for
lost time they linked more than just mouths.

With all worries gone he kissed her long and gently and then deeply as
the pressure grew between them. His good arm played along her back
under the water just playing along her curves with the gentle
caresses. If there was such a thing as cloud nine then it was there on
earth.

The way her foot was playing with his good leg and the way her throat
purred each time his hand found a new unexplored patch on her back
urged him to go further.

"Monica," he whispered, his neck not the only part of him pulsing with
deep desire. Her hand found its way over his hip just flicking at the
head of his stiff hard-on. "How will we work this?" A deep involuntary
groan escaped his throat as sure fingers enveloped his shrine. His
lust was almost uncontrollable but he knew if he moved then the pain
would take away from the overwhelming need to be joined with his
lover.

"Just keep really still," she murmured in his ear before carefully
climbing on top. With her knees either side of his submerged hips and
hands supporting herself beside his head she leant down to kiss him
again. As their lips produced more and more pressure her hips slipped
down letting his tribute to all things manly press inside. He wanted
so badly to thrust more evenly but it would only end up in distracting
pain so he let her do all the work.

"That's right John," she whispered with heavy lust. "Just stay still."

It was so much sexier letting her take the control of his body that in
the past he had been reluctant to allow. For someone to be in control
when he was helpless required all his trust and Monica was a woman he
entrusted with his life. He could move his head without any pain so
the kissing was awesome.

When Monica let go of his lips, producing rumbling moans and writhing
her hips rhythmically, he knew that she also was in sexual ecstasy. It
was hard keeping himself from just exploding inside her but he held it
back just watching her beautiful body responding above him. Her
breasts glistened and bounced in the reflective light giving her the
appearance of an angel. She was certainly his saving angel, saved from
more than just a life of being alone.

"Oh John," she flopped forward, her head near his and then up again as
her hips' pulse grew faster. Accepting intermittent kisses he moved
his hips just enough to not feel pain but to add some part to the most
amazing sex he had experienced in many days.

Just when he thought he could hold back no longer he heard those
throat rumbles that told him she was about to come. Feeling her
internal muscles clamp on the part of him that was thrusting deeply
inside was too much. With exquisite sensations radiating out to his
extremities he surged inside her. With each pulse she kissed him over
his face until she was once more on his lips.

The kissing was almost a blur as his body tried to recover. 

They lay there just holding each other and caressing as the bubbles
revitalized both their bodies. She softly kissed his skin as he smiled
his love for the woman he could not see ever living without.

Her face was watching him as his eyes slowly opened after what were
untimed moments of repose.

"Come on." One more kiss was felt on his lips. "I'll dry you. We need
to get some sleep."

"Monica, I can't." At that moment he truly believed he would be stuck
in that tub until someone strong enough could extract him.

"I told you we should have waited until your wrist is better." She
laughed as she knelt and then stood to get out of the tub. Wrapping a
towel around her she also fetched one for her lover.

"Stop teasing, you knew I couldn't wait that long." His face winced
from more than just the pain in his ankle as he tried to sit up. The
toll sex had put on his body had made his muscles like jelly.

"Yes, I knew. Maybe I just like to see my men begging," she beamed.

"Begging and helpless," he corrected, shaking his head with amusement.
He tried to show more strength but the journey out of the tub was a
slow one, even with Monica's help.

Once dry and the plastic off the plaster, she helped him to the bed
where she had turned down the sheets.

"I'll just wrap that ankle of yours again," she suggested as he sat
down on the bed feeling the full weight of his spent body. Knowing
protests would fall on deaf ears he just let her tend to his ankle. As
if he could perform the task with only one good arm anyway.

"So what do you make out about Bartlett?" John mused while he endured
the pressure bandage that the doctor had told him to keep on until
morning. "Do you think she knows more than she lets on?"

"I didn't check the back of her neck if that's what you mean." She
briefly looked up to see his face wrinkled with pain. "Sorry John, the
doctor said to make it tight to keep down the swelling."

"At least Gizelle will be there to keep the reigns on." He spoke
through partially gritted teeth.

Once the ankle wrapping was completed Monica carefully helped him into
bed and pulled up the covers.

"Here, have this." Handing him his prescription pain reliever and
glass of water he dutifully swallowed it down and then placed the
glass beside the bed while Monica turned off the bedside light and
slipped her naked body in beside him. Being careful not to touch his
arm or ankle she snuggled up beside him.

Her body was warm and soft beside his and her hand felt wonderful as
it made its way over his chest.

"What a reunion!" John was probably thinking the same as his partner
at that time.

"I hope we see Gibson soon, I worry about him." As she spoke John
could feel Monica's warm breath on his skin and he took comfort that
she was in his arms once again. He also felt relief that Skinner knew
about everything, possibly except Gizelle and her amazing talents.

"He's survived this long. He's a strong boy." John's good hand traced
over his bed partner's smooth back.

"Yes, I suppose so." Her hand continued its path over his chest as
though she was still in thought. "What do you think of Gizelle and her
ability?"

"She's amazing for sure. What I see is hope for the future," John
mused as he looked up to the darkened ceiling. "I was first concerned
that our baby would be coming into a world of change to the detriment
but with people like Gibson and Gizelle I see hope for the future."

Monica hugged him tight. To hear words like that coming from a man who
had experienced so much pain and disappointment in life must have been
consoling.

"Yes, John, there's hope." She kissed him on the shoulder where her
head would be lying. They would lie like that until morning.


The End

~RPcrazy

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