Disclaimer: I have run out of cute little ways to say the following characters are not mine. Hmph.

Rating: PG

Spoilers: Daemonicus (season 9) and references to their time in New York (though most of that made up).

Category: DRR

Author: Traci

Summary: John treated Monica horribly during their case. Will he try to make it up to her? Will she let him?

Author Note: see additional notes at end of story…..


Hot Salsa Nights


He felt horrible. He felt worse than horrible. He had been the one to assign her to be his partner. He had known her for just over seven years. He had known about her unconventional theories. He had known. So why had he treated her so badly? Why had he snapped at her? Why had he…? John Doggett sighed and stared at the phone. Why had he acted as if it was a burden to have her around? He could still see the hurt in her deep, brown eyes back when he had basically accused her of not having a grasp on reality back in the hallway of the hospital. It had been real hurt. Something rarely seen in her eyes. Yet it had been there and he had been the reason for it.

Picking up the phone, he dialed her number. It had been a few hours since he had left Monica Reyes and Dana Scully in the lecture hall. He had been so sure of himself when he explained the case, in scientific detail, to them and so smug when he walked up the stairs and out of the room but even he had to admit something was not completely right. He had felt her eyes follow him out of that room.

"Hello?" answered a groggy voice.

John nearly jumped, having forgotten he had actually dialed. "Monica?"

Silence.

"Mon..."

"Can we talk about it tomorrow?" she asked.

"Y… yeah. I'm really sorry, Monica." Hanging up the receiver, he sat back on the couch. His throat tightened with the realization he had really hurt her this time.


Unsure if the X-files was where she really belonged anymore, Agent Reyes half-heartedly walked out of the elevator towards the basement office. She had been thrilled when John had asked her to be his partner. She had wanted to be assigned to the X-files for years. She had, instead, distanced herself from New York and Brad Follmer by applying to the New Orleans office. She had also distanced herself from John Doggett by doing that – the only real regret she had about leaving New York. She remembered back to a few months earlier when John had called her to meet him in Montana regarding Fox Mulder's disappearance. It was then that she realized how much she had missed John. How much she had valued their friendship. It was a dream come true when he asked her to move up to DC. There was a slight hesitation when she discovered that her ex-boyfriend, Brad Follmer, was now an Assistant Director for the FBI in DC, but with John around, she figured it was worth it. With her hand on the doorknob, she was no longer sure it had been worth it.

Opening the door, her eyes scanned the room for any sign of John but found she was alone. She took her coat off and went to put on coffee. It was then she noticed the single red rose sitting on her desk. No note. Picking it up, a small smile formed on her lips. Perhaps it had been worth it after all.

"Truce?"

Monica turned towards the voice and sought out the haunting blue eyes of her partner. She hesitated. "John, I…"

John took three steps closer to her. "Monica, I know I was out of line. I know it was all my fault and I really am sorry."

"I need you to trust me and listen to me if we are going to work together. We won't always agree." She chuckled. "We probably won't ever agree, but I need to know you will at least listen to me if this is going to work."

He nodded.

She smiled. "Truce then and thank you for the rose."

"It was the least I could do." Sliding his own jacket off, he headed over to his desk. "Mon, what are you doing tomorrow night?"

"Um, nothing that I know of. I can't move in to the apartment for another week yet. Why?"

"Well, I was thinking maybe we could go out and catch up on each others lives."

Monica's eyes narrowed at him. "We can't do that hear?"

"It's not the same. Come on. I'm sure you're sick of staring at that hotel walls… unless…" John suddenly found his heart pounding at the thought that entered his mind. "Unless you and Brad…"

"It is over between him and me, John. It's been over for a long time."

"Does he know that?"

She grinned at him. "He does now."

"You'll have to fill me in on that one," he grinned. "Anyway, uh, do you happen to have that red dress that you used to wear in New York?"

"For some strange reason, yes, I do have it with me."

"Good. Wear it tomorrow night."

"Why?"

"It looks nice on you," he answered simply.

"John Jay Doggett, what are you up to?"

Doggett smiled at her then turned to his computer. "Just catching up with an old friend."


Monica was touching up her make-up. For some inexplicable reason she found herself to be nervous. She kept telling herself it was only John and they were only friends. She had worn the red dress around him many times before – usually when she had dragged him out to the Copacabana, a salsa dance club she loved in New York. She chuckled remembering the look on his face when she had first asked him. It had been the second anniversary of his divorce from Barbara and he had been distant when she had called him that day so she went over to his apartment that night, all dressed up, and gave him no option but to go with her. By the end of the night she could tell he had had a fun time, despite his continued protests.

Taking a last look in the mirror, Monica sat on the edge of her bed to put on her heels. The third time she had convinced John to go to Copacabana with her, he showed up at her place wearing a pair of black pants, ones with a slightly tighter fit than his normal suit pants and a white shirt similar to what many men wore at the club. She had always thought of John as a handsome man but that… that sent her over the edge.

Smiling to herself, she looked up when she heard the knock at her door. "Be right there," she called out. Standing up, she straightened her dress, took a few deep breaths and went to open the hotel room door. She swallowed hard at the site before her. There stood John Doggett dressed in the black pants and white shirt she had remembered.

"You look… incredible," he managed to say.

"Thank you, John." Her eyes held his for a moment and in that moment she wondered if maybe they could just skip dinner and… Shaking that train of thought from her mind, she grinned when he offered her his arm. "This has to be some pretty fancy restaurant," she commented.

"I think you'll like it." With a mischievous smirk, he pressed the down button on the elevator.


"John!"

Taking his eyes off the road for only a second to look at her, he smiled. "It gets better." He pulled into a nearby parking garage, stepped out of the car and opened the door for her.

"I can't believe you would bring me here."

Handing the keys to the attendant, he slid an arm around her shoulder. "We can always leave."

"Not a chance."

Walking up to the entrance of Havana Village, one of the hot salsa nightclubs in DC, they were met with a long line.

Monica looked at John. "We don't have to wait if you don't want to."

"You're right, we don't have to wait." He took her hand and led her up to the bouncer at the door and told him his name. Immediately the bouncer opened the door and let them in. "I pulled a few strings," John told her before she could ask.

Once inside, Monica, still holding John's hand, couldn't stop smiling. "Thank you, John. This was completely unnecessary, I already forgave you, but I'm not complaining."

"Come on." He gently tugged her hand and led her onto the dance floor. Almost immediately he remembered exactly why he had not minded going salsa dancing with Monica. The closeness of their bodies reminded him of all the reasons he had looked forward to their dance nights back in New York. At the same time, it also reminded him of dangers of being so close to her. In his heart he knew if and when he was ready to move on with his life she would be the one but…

"Did you know?" she whispered in his ear as the live band moved out onto stage.

"I only found out this morning when I checked it out online."

Monica wrapped her arm around his as they edged their way off the dance floor and to the bar. "I can't believe it. I thought they were only local in New York."

He shrugged. "Guess Little Johnny Rivero is expanding beyond the Big Apple."

The band started and Monica swayed to the music while sipping her tequila. She watched John in silence while he watched the band. This was a side of John Doggett few, if any aside from her, ever got to see. They never saw past the rough, New York exterior to the kind, gentle man he really was. Taking another sip of her drink, she realized that maybe he never allowed anyone but her to see this side of him. Sliding the glass onto to bar, Monica leaned over to John. "Let's go dance again."

John took a big gulp of his beer and followed the tall brunette into the mass of people. For all the protesting he had done years ago, seeing Monica dancing against him, smiling and laughing made all his hesitation disappear. Pulling her close, their bodies moved together to the beat of the seductive music. It was definitely something he could get used to.

The hours flew by as the two FBI agents allowed themselves to forget about work and lose themselves in the music, the past and each other. Before they knew it, the club was closing for the night.

"Thank you for such an amazing night, John" Monica softly said as they walked back to his car.

"It was the least I could do."

They stopped at the passenger door but he did not open it. Instead he took both of her hands in his and searched her eyes. "Monica, I… I guess I just want to let you know that I know I take you for granted sometimes. A lot has been going on and you know how well I take change but that is no excuse for taking everything out on you."

"John, I know you didn't mean it. It just… Well, yeah, it did hurt but I knew you didn't really mean it." Reflexively, she licked her lips. "Of course, if guilt is going to get you to take me out like this more often then by all means, please, take things out on me." She smiled brightly at him.

He smiled back and shook his head in disbelief. Monica Reyes was definitely an enigma. A smart, beautiful, sexy enigma who was still holding his hands and searching his soul with her eyes. Monica had a way of making him open up; talk about feelings in a way no one had ever been able to do before. Stranger still, he found himself actually wanting to talk things through with her. His gaze fell from her eyes and settled on her lips, glistening in the dim lights of the street. He felt his pulse quicken and his breathing increase. He was actually shaking. Monica's hands tightened around his. She knew. His eyes sought hers once more and he saw she wanted the same thing.

Her lips parted slightly but her eyes never left his as he moved in closer.

With their lips only a breath apart, John felt the familiar panic rise within him. He should pull away. They were partners now. He valued her friendship far too much. For once his heart overrode his brain and suddenly he felt the pressure of her lips against his. He should pull away, he told himself once more but instead found himself deepening the kiss while wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her against him.

Lack of oxygen was the only thing that brought an end to their kiss.

Monica's soulful eyes, wide with desire, sought his once more. "Well," she grinned. "That never happened in New York."

John brought a hand up and ran it through her satin hair. "Why do you put up with a stubborn guy like me?"

"Because you take me dancing," she teased but the smile quickly faded. "John…"

"I know. This can't happen again. We work together and so on." He loosened his hold on her other hand but she quickly pulled his hand back to her.

"It's not that. I've waited this long which I know comes as no surprise to you but, John, I don't want either of us to have any regrets."

"Mon…" He stopped himself. In all the years he'd known her, she was the one person who could also see straight through his lies. "You're right."

"John. Look at me."

He did.

"I want it too. I know you want it. It will happen. It's just not the right time. I have no regrets about the kiss so why don't we see where this all takes us but take our time getting there."

Laughing softly, John brought her hand up and kissed it. "I swear you confuse the hell outta me, Monica."

"Why change what's worked so well for so long?" she replied and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "It's been a wonderful, amazing night, John."

John opened the car door for her and stepped back to let her in. "I promise there will be more just like it," he whispered to her before closing the door. Sliding into the driver's seat, he glanced at her. "I have no regrets about the kiss, either." With that, he started the car and drove her back to the hotel satisfied in the knowledge that wasn't going anywhere anytime soon.

The End

Additional disclaimer: the two clubs mentioned in the story are actual clubs in NY and DC (Copacabana is NY and Havana Village is DC) – at least I assume they are both clubs – never been to either one. The salsa group/singer mentioned (Little Johnny Rivero) is also a real band that I know plays at Copacabana and for the sake of this story they also play in DC though I don't know if they really do. Okay, done babbling now.