Title: Words

Author: Kathmak898

Summary: "Tell me a secret, John," she purred. "Something you've never told anyone else before."

Rating: PG (for a few sexual situations)

Disclaimer: Yada, yada, yada: the characters don't belong to me, unfortunately. If they did, I'd give them a starring role in the second "X-Files" movie.

Category: DRR; Romance

Notes: I have been inspired by all of those great DRR writers out there to write my own John and Monica story. If this goes over well, who knows? I may have a few more stories in me. :)

Dedication: This is for Tracy. Thank you for your encouragement and honesty. Couldn't have done it without you!

"Words" (Part One)

He was lost for words as he held Monica in his arms. They lay on his living room floor, having just made love in front of a crackling fire. Their glistening bodies, only partially covered by a flannel throw from his couch, were still entwined. A quiet peace had settled over them and they were soaking it up like a thirsty sponge. She was snuggled into him so closely that it was hard to tell where he ended and she began. He had never felt closer to anyone in his entire life, and that was the honest to God's truth.

John had loved Monica from the beginning: he was sure about that. He had locked his heart away for so long . . . too long. And now, as he felt her long legs tangled around his, he could barely recall why. Sure, he'd been thrown a few curve balls in life, but who hadn't? One lonely night as he tossed and turned in his empty bed, he wondered how he could stop his heart from aching so damn much. Then it hit him like a slap on the side of his head: continuing to deny his feelings for Monica would not solve his dilemma. He would be lost without her whether he admitted or not, so he might as well admit it.

And so he finally decided to take the plunge; consequences be damned. He felt almost giddy, like a fifty-ton weight had been lifted from his shoulders. It was the middle of the night when he jumped into his truck and drove like a bat out of hell to Monica's apartment, desperate to share his revelation with her. Much to his relief, she did not appear angry or even surprised to see him turn up on her doorstep at such a crazy hour. She invited him in and patiently waited for him to say what he came to say. He blurted it all out in an awkward burst as he stood next to her couch and nervously fidgeted with the zipper on his leather jacket. He told her how much she meant to him, and how he could no longer do without her. He confessed that he was so deeply in love with her he couldn't think straight anymore. John Doggett was not a poetic man, but he spoke from the heart, and his words touched Monica to the core.

Any fear and apprehension he might have felt disappeared immediately when she took him in her arms and whispered soothing words into his ear. "I've always loved you, John," she said, as she ran her long, delicate fingers through his spiky hair. "I was just waiting for you to catch up."

At that moment, the block of ice that had surrounded John Doggett's heart for so long began to thaw. He closed his eyes and tried in vain to blink back tears, tears that had been threatening to fall for the past decade or so. Monica smiled serenely as he took her face in his trembling hands and gently kissed her mouth. No other words needed to be said that night. Monica took him by the hand and led him into the comfort of her heart and, for the first time, her bed.

They made love with an almost frightening intensity that neither John nor Monica had experienced before, and it shook them both. He came inside her, biting his lip to stifle a cry as her tear-filled brown eyes looked deeply into his clear blue ones. Monica came right afterwards, calling his name out over and over and holding onto him tightly as tears ran down her cheeks. Once their breathing had finally returned to normal, John sought out the warmth of her lips again. After so many years playing the part of the wanderer, John Doggett felt like he was finally home.

That was a little over a month ago, and he never looked back. John opened his heart to Monica, a heart that no longer ached with pain, and he stopped waiting for the world to go to hell around him. A part of him wondered if he even deserved to be so happy. And knowing that she loved him just as desperately in return gave him a sense of joy that he never knew he was capable of feeling.

"John?"

Monica's sweet voice brought him back to the present: to the fireplace and the flannel throw and the incredible feeling of her warm, naked body pressed up against him.

"Hmm?" His fingertips were moving in lazy circles across the small of her back.

"Tell me a secret," she purred. He could hear the smile in her voice.

"A secret, huh?" Now it was his turn to smile as she rubbed her nose against his cheek.

"Yeah. Something you've never told anyone else before."

John thought for a moment until one inescapable thought entered his mind. Should he tell her?

—End of Part One—