Title: Espresso coffee Author: Scully's revenge (Also known as Dr.Kerry) Scullys_revenge@libero.it Rating: NC-17 (but not this part) Classification: DRR (LOL!!!), Reyes POV, Doggett POV Archive: Sure! Summary: Doggett arrives to Reyes' in order to write a report, but things don't go as planned... Author's not: Although Lara beta readed the rough draft, she doesn't have so much time anymore so I decided to post this anyway. I hope there aren't too many mistakes. If you find some just tell me, and I'll correct them. Here we go! ****************************************** --Reyes POV-- Reyes' apartment 9.00 p.m "Mmhh? Is it time to get up yet?" I untangle my arm from the warm flannel covers and feel the air searching for the alarm clock, but my hands only hit the pointed corner of the coffee table, which painfully penetrates the soft skin of my palm. "Shit!" I mutter and raise my heavy eyelids with difficulty as I try to recall memories of last night. After having spent 10 awful, sleeplessly nights in a cold and dirty motel in New Hampshire lying in wait for a suspected murderer who spent his whole time drinking and fucking hookers I decided to order a pizza and watch a romantic movie, but I must have been overwhelmed by post-investigation tiredness the very second my head touched the fresh fabric of the pillow. I get up from the couch and stretch, letting out a low moan when my tired, enervated muscles spread out and a pleasing sensation flows over my body. "Drrrrrrrrrrrr." I suddenly turned my head, holding my breath. The bell's ringing, not the alarm clock. I go up the door, slightly staggering, and move my eyes close to the peephole. My sight is still dim with my sleepiness, but I manage to see an embarrassed John Doggett running a hand through his hair while waiting for me to open the door. Damn. I had forgotten Follmer wanted a detailed report within tomorrow. He's been beastly at me...--at *us*--since I refused to go out with him again, the bastard. "Come in, It's open." I almost shout, making my way into the kitchen. If I have to stay awake I'll need at least a cup of coffee. He closes the door behind himself and says something that sounds like gurgling water to my ears. "What?" I peep from the room, inviting him to join me with a small gesture of my hand. "I just say that you shouldn't forget to lock the door, or you'll maybe have to regret your distraction." He reproaches me gently, but his voice and eyes are warm and full of concern. "I own a gun and I know how to use it, so don't worry." I gently rub his upper arm, reassuring him. "I'm a big girl now, aren't I?" I add quietly, showing him my best childish look. "I don't want anything to happen to you, Monica." He whispers hoarsely, then swallows. He's looking everywhere but at me, and I think he knows he's blushing too. It would be funny to see such a hard-featured man like John go red with shyness, but I can't enjoy it since his words sent a wave of warmth to my lower belly, making my inner muscles contract. The tension between us is now so thick you can cut it with a knife; we stand in the middle of the room as stiff as mannequins, staring at each other without saying a word, feeling stupid and uneasy. "Do you like espresso?" I finally ask, breaking that uncomfortable silence, and my hand finally leaves his arm to turn the coffee-machine on. My brother brought it from Italy, and I'm quite proud of it. "You.uh.mean the coffee, right? Er.I dunno, but I'd like to try." He searches for two cups in the cupboard, but finds it empty, so turned his face to me, a questioning look in his eyes. "My china is still in a box somewhere in the living-room.there is some plastic stuff on that shelf." I point at the fair wood shelf across the kitchen. "I'm really sorry, but I haven't had time to unpack my things yet." In fact, this place still looks like a refugees camp, though I moved here about.uh.two weeks ago. I'd been very busy with work lately, and I don't like doing these kinda things, anyway. "Hey, I can come and help you with the unpacking if you want." He nicely offers. "It would be very kind of you, John. Actually, I really need a little help." I don't know why, but I smile at the idea of spending some time with him apart from working hours, as we often did in New York. It was me, John and Luke, and we enjoyed ourselves so much...We went everywhere and did everything we wanted, as free as wind. Until that...that horrible day. Luke's kidnapping and then death hit us so suddenly and with such a great violence that I thought John wouldn't have been able get through that. He looked lost, vulnerable. Empty. I'll never forget how his blue, icy eyes melted into tears in that little motel room on the highway, desperately asking for...help, comfort, I guess. I don't think he really knew what he was asking for. And I granted his request, I wanted to do everything that was in my might to make him feel better, but he pushed me away. Roughly. I had lost it in a few days, my happiness, my...my family. Yeah, we looked a lot like a family and we acted as we were a real one when we were together. For Luke, to make him feel loved after his mother passed away. For us, to fill the loneliness of our lives. I felt torn apart, like someone had snatched my heart out of my chest and thrown it in a trash can, bringing all my feelings with it. And that was when I realized I had fell for him, that I was badly in love with him. Because of that when I was offered a job in New Orleans I left without thinking twice. "Earth to Monica! Where are you?" He waves a hand in front of my face, pulling me out of my reverie. "Oh, sorry. Just thinking." The corners of my mouth lift in a small, forced grin as I reached for the sugar. Espresso definitely needs to be sweetened, it's terribly bitter. "Hey, where's the coffee? I see only a few drops here!" He exclaimed in disappoint, his eyes opening wide as he looked at the cups on the counter. "This is very strong, John. Pure caffeine." I explained, handing him a mug. "Thank you." He whispers, his eyes locked on our fingers brushing as he takes it from my hands. Then he slowly lifts his head, meeting my gaze. "You look really tired. Maybe I should have finished the report myself and let you get some rest." He adds just then. Only now I notice how messy I must look like. I'm still wearing the white turtleneck and the black trousers I put on yesterday night to come back home, my hair is divided in small, moist locks tight to my face and I feel dirty and sweaty, thought it's quite cold in here. On the contrary John is impeccable as always, and this makes me feel more uneasy. There's no sign of tiredness or of beard on his face, and he's wearing a forest green sweater and tight, black jeans. Very tight, actually. So tight I can see the shape of his tensed quadriceps through them. "Don't mind. I've already written my part, we just gotta..." An idea suddenly flashes into my mind. "Why don't ya read it while I take a quick shower? My laptop is already on, there on the coffee table. Uh...the file is named "Jacobs", after the suspect." I throw my empty cup in the trash can and I head to the bathroom, slightly brushing past John. -Doggett POV- I nod, even if I know she can't see me and take the last sip of coffee, trying to swallow down the limp I've had in my throat since Monica rubbed my arm before. I got really sensitive to her touch lately. The hot coffee makes my empty stomach growl. I haven't had supper this evening, so I open the big fridge, looking for something to eat. There are fruits, vegetables, soja cheese, a lot of other diet stuff and a huge, appetizing slice of Sachertorte. I believe she's addicted to it. She's always been. We used to have one at Louis' patisserie in Brooklyn every Friday evening after work; a kind of tradition to celebrate the weekend. It was a nice place halfway between my workplace and hers. She always complained that she would get horribly fat if she kept eating that stuff, and while speaking an abusive fork reached my plate to steal some of my cake. She was the one who could make me laugh, Monnie. "Monnie." I repeat, aloud this time, half-chuckling. I don't remember where this name came from. Luke. Yes. Luke used to call her like that. And I realize just now how "Monnie" sounds similar to "mommy". The two of them got along very well, Monica knows how to act with children, but I had never thought he could consider her as a second-mother. Luke was such a reserved boy, he's always been afraid of showing his feelings, or of being rejected. "Just like his father." I think. I take the plate and a plastic fork, sighing deeply, and finally reach the living room, realizing there's nothing in here but the couch, the coffee table, the television and an empty bookcase. And obviously lots of boxes, the most of them even still sealed. I shake my head, half-smiling, and I think that Monica might enjoy living like this. She's a strange person, my partner, so different from me and Dana: A dreamer, a bit crazy, sometimes even annoying...and yet I can't help but like her...love her. As much as Dana loves Mulder? I don't know, but it's a strong feeling anyhow. I collapse onto the couch and assault the cake, while checking her file archive, and I hear the sound of the shower running as I find the right one. Monica must be under the water now, beautiful and naked and wet, her hands running through her moist hair, hot streams of water rolling down her athletic body like slight caresses. Oh, God, how much I missed her! I shouldn't have let her go that night. She was the only person who could completely understand what I was feeling, and I pull her away when we most needed each other. I'm such a stupid man, sometimes. But she reminded me of Luke, of all the great time we had spent together. She reminded me of the awful moments in that grass field, where they found him dead. I closed myself into a shell and let the pain rusting my insides, totally uncaring for her own sorrows, living in the shadow of my previous life. Maybe...if I had allowed her to stand by me then, things would have been much different now. Monica... She's always been there for me, even after what I did to her. I called her and she ran to me. She drove to "Nowhere town" to deliver Dana's baby, without actually knowing why she was risking her life. She left New Orleans to join me working on the x-files. She's always given me all that was in her might priceless. Now it's her time to receive. I let the warm water wash the silky foam and the tiredness of the last few days away from my sore body as the gentle hum of the shower and the soft music coming from my radio relax me. I'd like to stay here a little longer, but John's waiting for me in the living room. I reluctantly turn the hot water off, sighing, and a freezing spray suddenly lashes my back. "God." I catch my breath, and rush out of the shower. I slip my feet in my dog-shaped slippers, my eyes frantically scanning the room for a terrycloth towel. I finally reach out for a light blue one lying on the washing machine and wrap it around my poor shaking body, vainly trying to warm me up. This thing is so small that it can barely cover my most intimate parts. And I don't wanna give John a free sexy show, thought I would in different circumstances. I look myself in the big mirror above the basin, sighing again as I check the state of my undress and the goose-flesh on my arms. I take a brush and begin combing my dripping hair, which send goose bumps down my spine every time it brush against my naked shoulders. I wish I hadn't forgotten my bath-robe in my old apartment, it would be useful right now. I arrange the towel so that I can hide my hard nipples pushing against its light fabric and I pull the knob, but the door doesn't open. I locked it again. I used to when I was with Brad because he would enter while I was taking baths and then it must have become an unconditional reflex. Anyway, I know John is such a chevalier, he would never violate my privacy like that. I slid the old key into its slot and unlock the door with a firm swirl of my wrist, then I step silently into the living room, leaving a trail of water behind me. John is comfortably seated on the couch, having a little break while the report's being printed. "So you finished it." I suddenly say, breaking the silence and startling him. "Christ, Monica, you scared the hell out of.me" His jaw drops as he turns his head to face me and I can't help but smile when he stands up, flushing for the second time this evening. "Oh, I add some lines to the report." He looks me up and down, his eyes obviously lingering on my breasts and thighs. "Uh.cute slippers." His gaze finally meets mine, and I can swear there's something else there besides his usual sadness and shyness. Something I've been longing for so much. He steps forward and puts his hands on my hips to pull me closer to him , his eyes growing wider and darker as our bodies finally make physical contact. I notice that his eyes aren't the only "growing" things here, so I arch my eyebrows at him questioningly, thought this amuses me. "'M sorry." He pulls back a little, and brings a hand up to cup my jaw, stroking my cheek with his thumb. A low moan escapes him when I respond to his gesture leaning into his hand and softly kissing the palm once, twice. The hand moves again, its fingers running through my still damp hair, playing with it, and he lowers his head till our forehead almost touch, silently asking the permission to kiss me. I sigh and wrap my arms around his waist, resting my head on his chest. God, I want him. I need him. But I'm afraid to be hurt again, to be left alone again. As if he reads my mind, he begins rubbing my back in small, tiny circles, relaxing my stiff muscles and whispers in my ear "I'm not forcing you to do anything you might regret." "John.I just want you to be sure, too" "I did one of the biggest mistakes of my life, Mon, I've been terribly selfish." He pauses and kisses my hair before taking a deep breath before continuing. "But I felt astray, confused.I was also afraid of my feelings for you. Monica, I." Another pause. Another kiss. Another deep breath. I know what he's going to say, and I know I'll believe him. There's no reason not to. -Doggett POV- I gently lift her chin with a finger, because I want her to look at me while I say it. I want her to see in my eyes how much I love her and how much I fear she doesn't return my feelings, although I knew she had a thing for me once. "Reyes, I." I stop again when I see her smile at my mulderism, and my stomach starts doing flip flops. I knew it would be difficult, but not that much. Dry mouth and lack of words are usual symptoms when I'm with her, but God, I feel dizzy, too! I allow myself a last, calming breath and my nostrils fill with her so familiar, sweet perfume. Vanilla flavored shampoo mixed with the natural scent of her skin and a little touch of smoke, which adds something masculine to her, makes her even more attractive. I smile back at her and put a lock of her dark hair behind her ear before taking both her hands in mine as I finally let it out. "I love you, Mon. More than anything else. There are no words to say how." "Shhhh." She puts a long finger onto my mouth before I can finish the sentence. "So show me." She whispers, moving her face so close to mine that I can feel her hot breath on my cheeks, and just then her finger is replaced by soft lips. We both groan quietly as she throws her arms around my neck and leans into me, our first, tentative kiss becoming deeper and demanding. She slightly parts her lips, letting my tongue slid into her, slowly explore the inside of her mouth and tangle with hers, mimicking the sensual movements of our bodies. "You ate my cake." She says breathlessly when we finally pull apart, then lowers her head to place wet, tiny kisses on my neck. "Sorry, I was sta..ahhh..rving." I bet my voice sounds at least an octave higher on the last word, but I can't help it since she is sucking on my Adam's apple, and my pants are getting dangerously tight. I need to strip them off. "You don't have to apologize." She moves away from me and takes my hand, heading to her bedroom. "It's just.I thought that it could have been useful now." "Next time I'll bring a mousse." I say playfully. Well, not that playfully. This could be a very nice experiment in the future. She forces me to sit on the edge of her king sized bed and straddles me, modestly bringing a hand down to her lower belly when the towel rises because of her brusque movement, exposing her dark pubic hair. I place my hands on her firm butt and pull her slightly rocking hips close to mine, my erection pressing against her upper thigh as she begins to take my sweater off, touching every inch of newly uncovered skin with her velvety fingertips. "Let me." I murmur into her ear, standing up reluctantly. She undoes the bed and slips beneath the sheets waiting for me to join her, her hazel eyes staring hungrily at me while I slowly slip off my shoes and lower my pants. I sigh in relief when the boxers fall to the floor, finally freeing my poor organ. "C'mere." She says with a sexy, husky voice, and switches the lamp off, leaving the room in an appropriate half-darkness. The silver moonlight coming through the half opened window lights up my partner's pale face, making it almost glow. God, she's so beautiful. I climb into the bed beside her and rest my head on the comforter as my hand reaches out for hers. She smiles wickedly as she brings it to her mouth and licks my forefinger, brushing it then over one of her already hard nipples. I cup her small breasts and rub her peaks with my thumbs, making her moan in pleasure. I continue my teasing while she does the same on me with her tongue and teeth, sucking and nipping at one then the other, her hand toying with the soft mound of curls above my sex. "John..." she meows and leaves my chest to meet my lips. She puts a thigh on my hip and we roll over, without breaking the kiss. My body blankets hers and we finally are skin against skin, fire on fire. I'm aching to slam into her like a jackhammer, but this is our first time together and I want to take my time to memorize every inch of her body, to please her more, to love her. She deserves the best. And I hope I'll be able to last enough to give all this to her. - Reyes POV- God, this man's driving me crazy. He gently bits my lower lip and breaks the kiss to trail his mouth from my neck down to my breasts, kissing and lapping them, swirling his wonderfully talented tongue around each areola. I wonder what it could be able to do to other parts of my body. He leaves my swollen, slick breasts to continue the discovery of my body, tracing the outlines with his fingers and slowly kissing his way down to my flat belly. He buries his nose in my curls, breathing in my scent, and his hands gently spread my legs apart. He kisses both of my inner thighs and the hot sensation of his lips runs through my nerves to my warm, moist center, making me moan softly and I arch my back to urge him there. I can feel him smile against my groin and he lifts his head for a moment while kneeling between my legs, and looks at me lovingly. "Since you didn't get to enjoy the polish sausage sandwich, consider this as a gift for your new house." He smiles again and his lips are finally on my sex, teasing the entrance and tasting my wetness. A low, trembling 'Ohhh' is the only way I can convey my satisfaction when he takes my stiffening clit between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it as his tongue enters me and tickles my inner muscles with its tip. "John, please.this is agonizing." My finger lace through his short hair and I pull his head down impatiently. He moves his mouth away and I hear him chuckle quietly as he slides one, then two fingers inside me. "Is this better?" He asks as he begins moving in and out of me, testing different position and pressures, his rough tongue making slow circles over my ultra-sensitive skin. I nod, sighing, when the first pre-orgasmic waves of pleasure raise from my lower belly and I clench around his fingers, riding them. He feels my closeness and his movements slow down again. He obviously didn't expect me to climax so soon, but I need to release the tension I've been building up during the past few years. And I want *him* inside me. Soon. I can't help but whimper when he finally finds that special spot and gives a last couple of fast thrusts, sending me over the edge. -Reyes POV- "Thank you." I whisper as he leans half on top of me, pulling me into a tight embrace. "You're welcome, honey." He kisses me softly on the lips and I taste my own salty juices in his mouth. I kiss him back with passion and spread my hands over his large back, caressing his tensed muscles, brushing over the little scars on his shoulder-blades. Scars? I'll have to ask him about these someday. He props himself upon his elbows and aligns his hips with mine, making our sexes brush slightly against one another's, and I catch my breath, biting my lower lip. He pulls away a little. "Hey, what's wrong?" He looks at me, alarmed, and strokes my jaw with his thumb. "I think you should give me some minutes to recover." I smile and my hand sneaks down to cup the damp head of his penis in my palm. He shivers, pressing into my hand, and kisses my cheek. "Just tell me when you're ready." I keep teasing him till I feel my inner muscles relax and my desire building up again, then I pull my hand away to rest it on his lower back, urging him in. He slips into me millimeter by millimeter, careful to not hurt me, filling me completely without being too invasive. It seems that I've been built for his body. When he's finally buried into me, he bends down and kisses me again. "I could stay like this forever." He whispers, nuzzling my neck. "So stay." "I will." He murmurs in my ear, sweetly sucking on my lobe. I kiss his soft hair and close my eyes, breathing in the spell of the moment, and I'm fully aware that when he told me he'd stay, he was referring to much more than the position. "You better move your ass now, Agent Doggett, or I'll be really disappointed." I reach for his balls and massage them gently, making him groan deep in his throat. He nods and begins moving in and out of me slowly, in long strokes, and I raise my hips to meet him halfway at every thrust in a steady rhythm, beaten by soft sighs of desire and the clinging of our pelvis. "Mon, you.you feel.wonderful." He growls as he shifts a little, so that he rubs both my clit and my sensitive spot at each stroke and I cry out, digging my nails into his back and locking my legs around his hips, pushing him deeper. "Mmhh.John." I pant, squirming under him. ".faster." I want to come again, I feel like I'll never be able to have enough of this. Of him. He obeys immediately, his movements becoming more forceful and intense, his breath heavier and ragged as he rubs one of my breasts and whispers my name in my ear like a mantra. I know he's close. He pinches my nipple and slips the other hand between us, caressing me where our bodies are melted together, and my second orgasm explodes within me, so powerful that I felt woozy and send John over the edge, too. And we become one. One body, one mind, one soul. Invincible. "I love you." I tell him when he finally collapses onto me, spent. He kisses me in response, a long, tender kiss on my swollen lips. He rolls off me and lies beside me, letting out a sigh of pure satisfaction. "C'mere." I snuggle up against him and he pulls me close into his arms, rocking me against his chest like a baby, and I purr, resting my head on his breast bone to listen to his heartbeat. He smiles against my hair and grazes my hips and my sides, tapping slightly on my ribs with his fingers. It takes a few minutes to our breath to slow down and during this time the only noises audible are our panting and the engines of the cars on the road. I lift my head to brush my nose against his, and he holds me even tighter, kissing then my still damp hair. "Monica." I feel him smiling. "Mmm." my head founds a comfortable spot on his right shoulder and I close my eyes. I always feel sleepy when I'm cuddled. Not that it happened often in the past years. John is the only man I ever slept with who didn't thought just for himself. Yes, this time I've really fallen in love. -Doggett POV- Birds are chirping. The sun is rising and yellow, orange rays flood through the window, lighting the room with warm, soft colors. I feel like the bed is a wooden raft and we're floating in a yellow sea of peace. I look down at Monica, who's snoring gently against my chest, and I begin to stroke her hair. Tentatively, because I don't want to wake her up. I'd want to freeze this moment and keep it with me forever. I kiss the top of her head and she burbles some nonsense, stirring in my arms. "Hey, sweetheart." I curl my arms around her small waist protectively and she lifts her head to look at me, her eyes still half closed with sleepiness, then kisses me sweetly on the lips. And I melt. Man, I've never felt so desperately in love for ages. Her scent, her look, her silky skin, everything about her is intoxicating, essential as breathing. "'Morning John." I pull her head down for another one then let her roll onto the other side of the bed, yawning noisily and stretching like a kitten. No.not like a kitten.like a panther. Dark, beautiful, elegant. So graceful and yet dangerous sometimes. She stretches her arms out over her head and sinuously arches her back, exposing her bare, little breasts. She moans languidly as she kicks the sheets away to move her long legs freely and rub them against mine. I lay my hand on her flat belly, making slow circles around her perfect bellybutton with my thumb, while my other fingers sneak down to stroke her dark pubic hair. She coos happily and curls up against me again, nuzzling my neck with her nose. I pull the blanket up to her chin, covering her trembling body and hug her tight to place a very noisy kiss on her cheek. She laughs and bits my lower lip playfully, then lifts her thigh to rest it on my hip, closing the gap between our crotches. "Mmhh.Mon.we'll be late at work." I whisper in her ear as she straddles me, kissing my neck. There, just under my jaw where my skin is most sensitive. "'Kay." She pouts her lips like a child and lies down onto me, resting her head under my chin. "Thank you, Monnie." I lift my head a bit and kiss the tip of her well-shaped nose. She forces a small laughter and repeats that name quietly, more to herself than to me. "For what?" She asks me after a few seconds of silence. "For having always been here for me. You saved me when I was about to fall into oblivion. And I've been such a jackass." I trace the outlines of her face and kiss her again, deeply. It just seems that I can part from her warmth. "You would have done the same for me if I had needed some help." She whispers when we break our kiss. Yes, I'd do anything for her. I'd even give my own life to save hers. I smile at her tenderly and squeeze her tight, getting lost in her deep, hazel eyes, her black hair. As black as espresso coffee. End part 7/7