Disclaimer: Not mine. If they were you'd darn well better believe I would have found a way to keep the XF on with John and Monica!!!!!!!!!
Spoilers: Slight references to Audrey Pauley and Release... but very, very slight.
Rating: PG
Category: DRR - Christmas
Author's notes: Yeah, yeah, sue me, it's one of those cheesy, fluff (can a fluff piece be this long??), Christmas pieces... this is what happens when it snows WAY earlier than it's supposed to and one subjects themselves to a CD full of Christmas songs on a drive back from Connecticut. Not my fault...I swear!!!!! Hehehehe.
This Christmas
"It's certainly cold enough for a white Christmas this year." Pulling the lined hood of her coat over her head, Monica Reyes felt little relief against the blowing wind.
Blue eyes twinkled as her partner, John Doggett, turned to her and grinned. "Might have to plan for a snowball fight."
"Are you kidding?" Then she laughed. "I'd cream you and you know it."
John stopped at the street corner, waiting to cross. "Why, is that a challenge, Agent Reyes?"
"Only if it snows and only if there is the promise of hot chocolate with marshmallows afterwards," she shot back.
The light changed and they started across the street back to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building. "You know, Mon, sometimes you can be such a... girl."
Her forehead wrinkled as she thought for a moment. "I think I'll take that as a compliment."
"As you should," he responded, holding the door opened for her.
They went through security and headed to their office in the basement. "I still can't believe it's only a little over a week until Christmas."
"Yeah," was John's only reply. He had tried to ignore Christmas since the death of his only son almost ten years earlier. He had succeeded until a year ago, right after one Monica Reyes had re-entered his life and made him put up at least a small tree, albeit equivalent to Charlie Brown's and though he never admitted it to anyone else, he did enjoy it.
Stepping into the elevator, Monica turned to him. "John, did you even get a tree yet?"
"Huh? Uh..."
"John Doggett!"
He shrugged. "It's only me, so what's the point?"
She opened her mouth to respond but, upon thinking about it, closed it without saying a word. He was right, afterall. It was only him. Just as it was only her. And no matter how much decorating she had done come Christmas morning she would roll out of bed, sit on the couch with a hot cup of tea and stare at a tree all by herself.
They left the elevator and walked to their office in silence, spending the next few hours finishing up reports and glancing at new cases.
The clock was nearing five when Monica put down her pen and looked over at her partner. "John?"
"Yeah?" he asked without looking up.
"Let's go get a tree tonight."
That got his attention. His eyes met hers. "I thought you already had one."
She smiled. "I do, but you need one."
"Mon..."
But she held her hand up. "There's no 'no' for an answer. I have some extra decorations at home... it's the perfect night to get one."
"In case you forgot it's cold, windy, and there's supposed to be flurries tonight."
"Exactly. What's the fun in looking at trees when it's nice and warm?"
John laughed and shook his head. "You're definitely one of a kind, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Do I have a chance in winning this?"
Grinning, she got up and walked over to his desk. "Not really. It's almost time to go anyway, why don't we just leave the rest of this till tomorrow?"
He sighed. "I really don't know about this. Last year was nice but... do you know how depressing it will be to wake up and see the tree and nothing be under it and no one be there to share it with? I just don't know if I want to do that."
Monica sat in the chair opposite his. "I do know, John. But that doesn't mean we should just ignore it. I don't want to end up like some people for whom Christmas becomes just another day."
They sat in silence once again. He stared at her. She studied her hands.
"How about we don't do Christmas alone this year?" he asked, breaking the silence.
She looked up at him in question.
"Why not spend it together this year, like we should have last year."
"I..."
"Come on, Monica, you can't tell me you didn't pick up the phone at least twice to call me just like I did."
"So why didn't you call me?" she whispered.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"Touché." She paused. "Does this mean we're getting you a tree tonight?" She tried not to smile but her brown eyes gave her away.
"Yeah." John pushed back from his desk and grabbed his coat. "If we hurry maybe we can leave the Charlie Brown one for Charlie Brown this year."
Laughing, she also retrieved her coat and gloves and followed him out.
***************
"For heaven sakes just pick any tree!" John jumped in place trying to keep warm in the falling snow while Monica dragged him through the large Christmas tree lot.
"You can't 'just pick one,' John." She stopped and looked at him. "It has been way too long since you've picked out the perfect tree."
"Yeah, yeah, and I miss spending hours in a pumpkin patch at Halloween feeling like Linus." However her smile at his comment somehow seemed to chase away the cold he had been feeling only seconds earlier. How she always managed to do that was beyond him. Walking over to a Blue Spruce that stood about six feet, he lifted it to a standing position, looked it over for any bald spots then called her over. "How about this one?" he asked, grinning with pride over his find.
She looked it over, shook it to check for falling needles then looked at him.
His face dropped. "You don't like it."
"It's perfect." She laughed. "Come on, let's get it back to your place and warm up!" Upon his look, she added, "And get your mind out of the gutter this second!"
Laughing, he carried the tree over, paid for it, and headed back to his house.
****************
"It's still a little crooked, John." Monica stood in the living room doorway with a mug of hot chocolate and watched as John put up the tree.
He held his breath and counted to five. "As I recall, this was your idea."
"Yes, it was." Walking up behind him, she added. "And a fine idea it was."
A shiver ran through him. "Uh, wh... which way does it need to go?"
Monica chuckled as she stepped back. "A little to the left." As he shifted it over, she added, "You do know a little is going to have to be taken off the top so the angel can fit up there."
"Now I remember why I stopped getting trees," he mumbled.
"It'll be worth it, Scrooge." Placing her mug down on the table, she sat down on the floor and began untangling the lights. "Do you know which are blinking and which aren't?"
"You've got to be kidding me, right?" he commented, stepping back from the tree to make sure it was straight. "How does that look?"
"Great," she smiled. "Now, help me with these lights."
"In one second." He walked over to the stereo, put in a CD then returned to the floor next to her. Within seconds Bing Crosby's Christmas Classics filled the air.
"So you're not as much of a Scrooge as I thought, huh?" She handed him a tangled knot of lights.
"Guess not." Holding up the wire bunch, he threw them back in the box. "What do you say we do a little shopping?"
Monica nearly dropped her bundle of lights and stared at him. "Did you get hit in the head with the tree?"
"No," he laughed. "I just thought... well... this may be the start of a new tradition and all that... well... maybe new lights and ornaments are in order."
She sat speechless.
"If you don't want to..."
Her eyes watered. "A new tradition?"
"Yeah. If you want that is. It's kind of nice sharing this whole holiday thing with my best friend..."
Inside her heart sank, but she refused to ruin the moment. "Yeah, it is," she agreed. She took his hand and he pulled her up from the floor. "Where are we going?"
"Don't know, really. Target to start? It's closest and I know they're open late."
Monica merely nodded as she slid her coat on.
************
A light coating of snow covered the ground as they pulled into the parking lot.
"Guess a lot of people had the same idea," John grumbled upon having to park at the far end of the lot.
"Hope there's still stuff left," added Monica. She refused to let her own mood bring her down so on the way over she pushed aside the hurt of him seeing her as a best friend and planned on thoroughly enjoying every moment she could spend with him.
Bundling themselves against the snow and wind, they made their way across the parking lot and shook off their coats before stepping inside. The automatic doors swished open and Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song" filled the air... along with aisles packed with shoppers.
John looked at Monica. "This was my idea, huh?"
"Yep."
"Okay," he said, taking his hand in hers, "Let's get going then." He kept hold of her so as not to lose each other in the masses.
First stop was the ornament aisle. There weren't many left but enough.
"You start at that end and I'll start here," John told her. "You're the expert," he teased.
Wrinkling her nose at him, she followed orders. Within moments they met in the middle, both with a few boxes of various ornaments. Some large, some small, some sparkling, some plain.
"I think we'll lose the tree with all these," Monica chuckled.
"Let's get them anyway. I can always use them next year."
She then led him to the lights section. "What kind of lights do you want?"
"What kind do you like?"
Shrugging, she looked over some of the displays. "I've always been partial to the blinking colored ones. But it's your tree..."
"Our tree," he quickly corrected her. "So blinking color lights it is." He reached out to grab a few boxes when she stopped him.
"You have to decide if you want slow blinking or fast blinking. And do you want red, white, and blue or multi-color?"
"What? What happened to simply blinking lights?"
"Technology and consumer demand."
"You know, I'm beginning to think Mulder was right, there is a conspiracy but it's not by the government." He once again helplessly looked at the lights. "What do you think?"
"And they say *women* can't make up their minds?" She picked up a couple boxes and read them. "I say a mixture of both fast and slow. Personally, I'd go with the multi-color too."
"Maybe I should have just bought a fake, pre-decorated tree."
Nudging him with her shoulder, she continued looking over the selections. "I think that should.... OH MY.... THEY DON'T!" She ran to the end of the aisle, her eyes as wide and excited as a child's.
"Mon?"
She held up a large box. "You HAVE to get these, John!"
"What? They're lights."
Staring at him as if he'd just grown a second head, she held up the box closer. "Just lights? They're the Grinch!!!"
"How old are you again, Monica?"
"Ugh! Where is your inner child?"
Inside he was laughing. If she hadn't found them he certainly would have but teasing her was just too much fun. "Grab 'em and let's get out of here. We have some serious decorating to do!"
"Wait, we can't go without tinsel!"
"Yes we can."
But she stood her ground. "No. We. Can't."
John rolled his eyes but smiled. "I'll wait here for you."
"Better yet, why don't you go get in line, it won't take me long and the lines are never-ending."
"Okay." He shuffled the objects in his arms since there had been no carts left when they arrived. "Probably no point in telling you to hurry."
Shaking her head, she wandered off on a mission.
Ten minutes later she returned to the front of the store in search of Doggett. When she finally found him, he laughed at her for in her arms was not only three boxes of tinsel but also a new angel, four boxes of candy canes, and a neatly folded tree skirt with a snowflake pattern.
"Monica, do you really expect me to put that around my tree?"
"What? You need a tree skirt and it's wintry."
"Yeah, and it's a little um...feminine."
"Feminine? It's snowflakes, John." She looked over it once again. "Well, okay, maybe not quite the macho New York thing but it was all they had left unless you wished for the Powerpuff Girls or Spongebob Squarepants."
"No, I think I'll take this over them thank you." They were close enough to the belt to start placing some of the items there. John looked at his watch. "It's almost ten. Maybe I should drop you off after here and we can finish tomorrow."
She reluctantly nodded. They did still have four more days of work.
Nearly two hours had passed since they had first entered Target. Now, with bags in hand, they exited only to find the 'passing flurries' had turned into quite a small snowstorm. "Um, Mon, maybe you'd better stay at my place tonight. I don't think we'll make it to Georgetown in this."
"Come on, John, it's only a passing flurry," she joked, trudging her way through the five inches of new snow. Reaching his SUV, they piled the bags in and set off.
************
"I'm thinking of a career change," John mumbled while cautiously maneuvering along the snow and ice covered streets.
"Really? And what would that be?"
"Weatherman."
"Meteorologist," Monica corrected him.
"What?"
"Meteorologist. That is the politically correct term they use now."
He laughed and shook his head. "Has anyone ever beat you in Trivial Pursuit?"
"Not recently. But why a weatherman?"
"Meteorologist," he teased, carefully applying the brakes upon approaching a red light. "Anyway, they are the only people in the world who get paid an absurd amount of money to guess. If they're wrong or make a mistake it's 'oh well, my fault' and they are still there week after week, year after year. No pressure."
"You'd be bored to tears and you know it."
"Maybe but it might be worth it." Pulling into his driveway, John stopped the car and looked over at Monica. "You might be snowed in here with me tomorrow you know."
Smiling, she said, "I know. That will give us all day to finish decorating."
He returned her smile but said nothing, opting to get the car unpacked and themselves in the house instead.
*************
It was nearing midnight by the time the car was unpacked and the bags emptied. John and Monica found themselves sitting on his couch watching the Weather Channel.
"Looks like we'll be getting that snow day afterall," Monica said.
"Like I said, career change."
She swatted his arm and laughed then yawned.
"Why don't you go to bed? I think it's pretty safe to assume we won't be making it to work tomorrow."
Nodding, Monica got up and started out of the room then stopped. She turned around but before she could say a word...
"You know where my stuff is and the guest room is all ready. I wouldn't advise picking any clothes that are on the floor however." He grinned. "Haven't had time to do the wash yet."
"Thanks for the warning." Taking another look at the tree, she added, "This could be the best Christmas I've had in a long time." With that, she went upstairs.
John stared after her lost in his own thoughts. He waited until he heard the water turn off in the shower before he, too, retired for the evening.
"John?"
He grunted but made no movement.
"John?"
"Go away," he muttered.
Monica rolled her eyes and stepped closer to his bed. "JOHN!"
"What?" he yelled, sitting straight up. "Geez, Mon, are you trying to kill me?" The clock read 2:15am. He then observed she was standing there shivering in a pair of his sweatpants and a sweatshirt.
"I think you're heater's broken."
"You've got to be kidding," he said, climbing out of bed. Wearing only a pair of boxers he, too, quickly realized how cold it was and wrapped one of the blankets around him.
Monica followed him downstairs and watched as he tried to kick the heat on with the thermostat. Cursing under his breath, he then went to the basement. She waited at the top of the stairs, flinching when she heard him literally kick the furnace.
A few moments later, John returned to the first floor. "Of all the times for this to happen." The sound of his partner's chattering teeth brought him out of his thoughts. "Why don't I start a fire and you can get us something hot to drink."
She nodded and went to the kitchen while John worked on the fireplace. Once the fire took, he went back to his room, put on warmer clothes, and returned to the living room to find Monica curled up in one corner of the couch in front of the fireplace holding onto her hot mug with a deathgrip.
"Any warmer?" he asked, sitting beside her, glad to see her lips had lost their bluish tint.
"Getting there." She handed him his own mug. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear we were in one of those cheesy Christmas movies where everything that could go wrong does."
Grinning, he gave her a sideways glance, trying hard not to dwell on how the light from the fire played on her brown hair or how her chestnut eyes reflected the flickers of the flames. "But things always turn out alright in those movies, don't they?"
"Yeah, I guess they do." Monica got up to look out the window. "And to add yet another cliché to matters." She turned to look at him. "It looks like we're definitely snowed in for at least a day."
John joined her at the window. "Up for that snowball fight?"
"At two-thirty in the morning with no heat in the house? I don't think so."
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close. "We can always use body heat to warm up."
"Hm, if I had known you were like this at this time of day, I may have woken you up in the middle of night long ago."
John froze. He had never expected her to flirt back like she had. "Uh..."
But Monica laughed and pulled away from him. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you." She left the room only to return with her boots.
"Are... are you leaving?"
She looked up at him as she tied the last boot. "No. I thought you wanted that snowball fight."
"Right now? I was kidding!"
"Kidding or not, you made the offer now make good on it."
Aha! Locking eyes with hers, he said, "I also offered to use body heat to keep you warm. Does that mean I have to make good on that offer too?" He went to get his own boots before she could reply.
**************
The snow had piled up to well over a foot by the time they got outside. The serene silence of the night nearly made them forget about the challenge of the snowball fight. But not completely.
John was the first one to get hit. "Hey, you didn't give me time to get ready." He kept his voice low so as not to disturb the neighbors.
"There is no time to get ready. It's every man for himself!" she retorted before sending another snowball his way.
"I'll get you for that," he whispered loudly and sent a snowball her way, but she managed to duck and hit him with three more before he had a chance to get one her way.
"Told you I'd win," she teased.
Finally giving up, he packed a really large snowball and slowly walked towards her.
"John?" She backed away as he got closer. "Don't you even think about it."
He said nothing, merely continued his slow walk in her direction.
"John, I'm warning you." She was stopped by a tree she had backed into. "If you do..."
He was now standing inches from her. Melted snow dripped from his hair. "If I do what?"
"If you do I'll..."
"You'll what?" he grinned, lifting the snowball in his hand.
"I'll...I'll make you finish decorating the tree yourself."
"Oooh, now there's a threat, Ms. Reyes." Then he stopped. He stared into her eyes, beyond her eyes, into her soul.
She shivered, but not from the cold.
The snowball fell from his hand.
Moving closer, he could feel her warm breath mixed with the cold air.
A moment later his lips covered hers. Their first kiss was soft and gentle, almost tentative. Soon her arms wrapped around his neck and they became completely lost in each other.
Breaking only for need of breath, they both smiled.
"I told you things always turned out alright at the end of those cheesy movies," John whispered.
"Yeah, I guess they do."
"Now, about that body heat offer..."
"John, I'm not really..."
He laughed. "I didn't mean *that*! Now who's mind is in the gutter?"
Monica blushed.
Taking her hand, John led her back to the house. "Mon, it's not that I don't... well, it's just..."
"Too soon," she finished for him.
He stopped and looked at her after opening the front door. "Yeah."
She placed a kiss on his cheek. "I'm glad you feel that way too."
They stepped inside and immediately headed to their rooms to change into dry clothes. As Monica reached the doorway to her room, John yelled out to her and threw her some new clothes.
"Figured you didn't really have anything else."
"Thanks."
Moments later they returned to the living room and curled up into each other in front of the fireplace.
As John nuzzled her neck, he asked, "So, what do you want for Christmas?"
Turning to face him, she met his eyes and said, "I already have my wish," before kissing him softly once again, then apologized as she yawned into their kiss.
"Gee, Mon, a man could take that personally you know."
"Yes, and I'm sure you will."
He pulled her closer. "We probably should try and get some sleep. I'll go get some blankets and pillows from upstairs."
"Okay." Glancing at the clock on the mantel she was shocked to see it was nearly six in the morning. 'At least we won't have to go to work today' she thought, yawning once more and closing her eyes.
The next time she opened her eyes, she found a dim lightness peaking through the blinds and was nice and warm lying on a pillow that was breathing and had a heartbeat. She smiled.
"Was wondering when you'd wake up."
She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at John. "Was too comfortable to want to."
He smiled. "Needless to say, Skinner called earlier and told me to call you and tell you we weren't to come in today. So consider yourself called."
"What time is it?"
"Nearly noon."
"Oh. Still snowing?"
"Last time I checked."
Sitting up, she yawned and stretched, then looked puzzled as he also sat up, propping himself up against the couch. "Is the heat working again?"
"Yeah. Weirdest thing actually. It just turned on by itself about three hours ago."
"Must have been fate," she whispered.
He slid an arm around her shoulder and kissed her neck. "Must have been," he agreed.
"Mm, so it wasn't a dream?"
"Nope." He stood up and, at the loss of his warmth, she shivered even in the sweatshirt and pants. "I'm not sure what I have hanging around for breakfast, er, or lunch."
"Coffee will work for now."
"That, I can do, Madame."
While he was getting the coffee, she went over to his stereo. If they were going to spend the day decorating then they would need the perfect selection of songs - she only hoped he had more than one Christmas CD.
By the time he returned, she had the music playing and had begun unpacking the glass ornaments.
"So, oh great tree trimmer, where do we begin?" John handed her the hot coffee and stared at the tree.
"These go on first," she said, handing him one of the ornaments after putting a hook on it. "The larger ones at the bottom and smaller..."
"I was teasing. I have actually done this before."
"Oh, oops, yeah, sorry. Guess I got carried away."
"That's okay. Come on, the sooner we get this done the longer we can enjoy it."
They spent the next few hours placing the various ornaments around the tree, arguing over where there were empty spots, how the lights would cover them up, too many of the same color in one area, but eventually they finished the ornaments and stepped back.
"Looks great," John said.
"Not quite yet. Still needs the lights and tinsel."
He looked at her. "What is it with you and tinsel anyway?"
"Why?" She paused then told him, "In Mexico we never had snow for Christmas, heck, it barely dropped below fifty where I lived. I guess it was the closest thing I ever had to snow for Christmas."
"Well, I think Mother Nature is more than making up for that this year."
"No more stalling, Mr. Doggett. This tree is not going to finish itself you know." She handed him a box of lights and they continued on their task.
The lights took only half an hour and then came time for the tinsel. As Monica handed him his own box she warned, "This is for the tree, not for the floor... or me!"
"Moi? Are you insinuating I would think otherwise?"
"Just throw it on the tree, John." She grinned at him and disappeared around the opposite side.
John laughed when she reappeared a few minutes later. He walked over to her and began picking strands of silver from her hair. "I thought you said this was only for the tree."
She shrugged. "Guess I got a little carried away."
"But you look adorable," he told her, kissing her softly before wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her back against his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'd say we make a pretty good team."
Reveling in just relaxing in his arms, she nodded.
John left her only momentarily to plug in the lights, then returned to his former position.
"It's truly beautiful," she whispered.
As they stood there a more recent Christmas song filled the air.
Hang all the mistletoe
I'm gonna get to know you better
This Christmas
And as we trim the tree
How much fun it's gonna be together
This Christmas
"I knew we forgot something," John said, gently swaying with her to the song.
"What was that?"
"Mistletoe."
Turning in his arms, she smiled. "Do you really think you need it to get a kiss from me?"
"I don't know, do I?"
She answered him without a word.
The fireside is blazing bright
We're caroling through the night
And this Christmas will be
A very special Christmas for me, yeah
Against his better judgement, John pulled away from Monica. "I happen to have a bag of marshmallows and some chocolate bars. And we have a fire going..."
"S'mores? I have to say I'm surprised."
Presents and cards are here
My world is filled with cheer and you
This Christmas
"Why?"
"I don't know, you just don't seem like the S'mores kind of guy."
"Hey, I'll have you know that S'mores go great with beer."
Monica laughed out loud. "That's more what I figured."
Lights twinkle all around
But your eyes outshine the town
They do, this Christmas
The fireside is blazing bright
We're caroling through the night
And this Christmas will be
A very special Christmas for me, yeah
She sat on the couch watching the lights blink as the fire reflected off the glass ornaments. 'This is a very special Christmas,' she silently agreed with the song.
John, meanwhile, watched her from his kitchen. Something just seemed so perfect about having Monica there for the Christmas season. But more importantly, something just felt so right about having her there. He'd lost his nerve to tell her how he felt after she had awoken from the coma. He had chosen not to say anything to her regarding his feelings for her after finally coming to terms with the death of his son, though she had stood by him through it all. Many a time he had woken to nightmares of her dying before he ever had a chance to tell her. Now, as she sat there so happily, he knew it was finally right.
"Here you go," he said, handing her a long stick with a marshmallow attached to the end.
"Thanks."
They sat by the fireplace in silence watching their marshmallows turn a golden brown.
"Monica?"
"Yeah?"
"I, uh... nevermind."
She removed her marshmallow from the fire and placed it on a piece of chocolate and graham cracker then carefully smooshed it down with the other half of cracker. "What is it?"
"It can wait."
As much as she was craving the S'more, John's sudden change in mood concerned her more. "John?"
Placing his stick along the edge of the fire, he turned to her. "I just... I know we just took this to the next level... us I mean... but..." He looked away and shook his head. "I'm not really good at this."
Monica's heart clutched. She knew he would have second thoughts. "John, if you've changed your mind about..."
Quickly he put a finger to her lips to stop her. He looked directly into her eyes. "Never. I've waited far too long to change my mind now." He drew silent again, his finger still lingering on her lips. "What I'm trying to say is... something I should have let you know long ago. Monica, I want us to stay as more than just friends... I want us to be much more to each other."
"I thought we agreed it was too soon."
He smiled. "No, I mean, I want us to be *us* for... for the rest of our lives."
She didn't move. She didn't breath. She just stared.
"Monica?"
"I... uh..."
"I thought I was the one with the talking problem."
"John, I... I'm not sure what you..."
"I'm not saying let's get married or engaged or anything - not right away. But I want you, no I need you to know, that is what I have in mind. I do love you, Monica. I just either wasn't ready to or didn't want to admit it to myself."
Tears filled her eyes. "I've waited so long to hear you say that."
He tilted his head. "You knew?"
She smiled. "Of course I knew."
"You knew all along that I was in love with you?"
"No. Not in love with me, but I always knew you loved me." She hesitated before, "And now I know both."
"Sometimes it scares me how well you know me."
"How well do you know me?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Did you always know I loved you?"
John nodded. "I think so."
Running her hand down his cheek, she added, "And did you know I've been in love with you since before I left New York?"
This time it was his eyes that filled with tears. "Why... why didn't you ever say anything?"
"Your marriage had just ended, Luke... Brad... No matter how much I wanted you, it just was never the right time, John. I had to wait for you because if I was the only one who felt that way... well, it wouldn't have worked and I wasn't about to lose my closest friend."
He pulled her to him and they held each other tightly. "All those wasted years."
"Don't think that way, John. It took us a long time, but we're where we are meant to be when we're meant to be here."
He pulled back and looked at her. "So, Ms. Reyes, might I inquire as to your plans for New Year's?"
"Why, Mr. Doggett, I do believe this New Year's is already reserved for someone special."
"He's a lucky man," he grinned.
"And I'm a lucky woman," she added. "A very lucky woman," she repeated as he leaned in and kissed her.
The End
Lyrics from "This Christmas" by Gloria Estefan.
Spoilers: Slight references to Audrey Pauley and Release... but very, very slight.
Rating: PG
Category: DRR - Christmas
Author's notes: Yeah, yeah, sue me, it's one of those cheesy, fluff (can a fluff piece be this long??), Christmas pieces... this is what happens when it snows WAY earlier than it's supposed to and one subjects themselves to a CD full of Christmas songs on a drive back from Connecticut. Not my fault...I swear!!!!! Hehehehe.
This Christmas
"It's certainly cold enough for a white Christmas this year." Pulling the lined hood of her coat over her head, Monica Reyes felt little relief against the blowing wind.
Blue eyes twinkled as her partner, John Doggett, turned to her and grinned. "Might have to plan for a snowball fight."
"Are you kidding?" Then she laughed. "I'd cream you and you know it."
John stopped at the street corner, waiting to cross. "Why, is that a challenge, Agent Reyes?"
"Only if it snows and only if there is the promise of hot chocolate with marshmallows afterwards," she shot back.
The light changed and they started across the street back to the J. Edgar Hoover FBI building. "You know, Mon, sometimes you can be such a... girl."
Her forehead wrinkled as she thought for a moment. "I think I'll take that as a compliment."
"As you should," he responded, holding the door opened for her.
They went through security and headed to their office in the basement. "I still can't believe it's only a little over a week until Christmas."
"Yeah," was John's only reply. He had tried to ignore Christmas since the death of his only son almost ten years earlier. He had succeeded until a year ago, right after one Monica Reyes had re-entered his life and made him put up at least a small tree, albeit equivalent to Charlie Brown's and though he never admitted it to anyone else, he did enjoy it.
Stepping into the elevator, Monica turned to him. "John, did you even get a tree yet?"
"Huh? Uh..."
"John Doggett!"
He shrugged. "It's only me, so what's the point?"
She opened her mouth to respond but, upon thinking about it, closed it without saying a word. He was right, afterall. It was only him. Just as it was only her. And no matter how much decorating she had done come Christmas morning she would roll out of bed, sit on the couch with a hot cup of tea and stare at a tree all by herself.
They left the elevator and walked to their office in silence, spending the next few hours finishing up reports and glancing at new cases.
The clock was nearing five when Monica put down her pen and looked over at her partner. "John?"
"Yeah?" he asked without looking up.
"Let's go get a tree tonight."
That got his attention. His eyes met hers. "I thought you already had one."
She smiled. "I do, but you need one."
"Mon..."
But she held her hand up. "There's no 'no' for an answer. I have some extra decorations at home... it's the perfect night to get one."
"In case you forgot it's cold, windy, and there's supposed to be flurries tonight."
"Exactly. What's the fun in looking at trees when it's nice and warm?"
John laughed and shook his head. "You're definitely one of a kind, you know that?"
"Is that a yes?"
"Do I have a chance in winning this?"
Grinning, she got up and walked over to his desk. "Not really. It's almost time to go anyway, why don't we just leave the rest of this till tomorrow?"
He sighed. "I really don't know about this. Last year was nice but... do you know how depressing it will be to wake up and see the tree and nothing be under it and no one be there to share it with? I just don't know if I want to do that."
Monica sat in the chair opposite his. "I do know, John. But that doesn't mean we should just ignore it. I don't want to end up like some people for whom Christmas becomes just another day."
They sat in silence once again. He stared at her. She studied her hands.
"How about we don't do Christmas alone this year?" he asked, breaking the silence.
She looked up at him in question.
"Why not spend it together this year, like we should have last year."
"I..."
"Come on, Monica, you can't tell me you didn't pick up the phone at least twice to call me just like I did."
"So why didn't you call me?" she whispered.
"Why didn't you call me?"
"Touché." She paused. "Does this mean we're getting you a tree tonight?" She tried not to smile but her brown eyes gave her away.
"Yeah." John pushed back from his desk and grabbed his coat. "If we hurry maybe we can leave the Charlie Brown one for Charlie Brown this year."
Laughing, she also retrieved her coat and gloves and followed him out.
***************
"For heaven sakes just pick any tree!" John jumped in place trying to keep warm in the falling snow while Monica dragged him through the large Christmas tree lot.
"You can't 'just pick one,' John." She stopped and looked at him. "It has been way too long since you've picked out the perfect tree."
"Yeah, yeah, and I miss spending hours in a pumpkin patch at Halloween feeling like Linus." However her smile at his comment somehow seemed to chase away the cold he had been feeling only seconds earlier. How she always managed to do that was beyond him. Walking over to a Blue Spruce that stood about six feet, he lifted it to a standing position, looked it over for any bald spots then called her over. "How about this one?" he asked, grinning with pride over his find.
She looked it over, shook it to check for falling needles then looked at him.
His face dropped. "You don't like it."
"It's perfect." She laughed. "Come on, let's get it back to your place and warm up!" Upon his look, she added, "And get your mind out of the gutter this second!"
Laughing, he carried the tree over, paid for it, and headed back to his house.
****************
"It's still a little crooked, John." Monica stood in the living room doorway with a mug of hot chocolate and watched as John put up the tree.
He held his breath and counted to five. "As I recall, this was your idea."
"Yes, it was." Walking up behind him, she added. "And a fine idea it was."
A shiver ran through him. "Uh, wh... which way does it need to go?"
Monica chuckled as she stepped back. "A little to the left." As he shifted it over, she added, "You do know a little is going to have to be taken off the top so the angel can fit up there."
"Now I remember why I stopped getting trees," he mumbled.
"It'll be worth it, Scrooge." Placing her mug down on the table, she sat down on the floor and began untangling the lights. "Do you know which are blinking and which aren't?"
"You've got to be kidding me, right?" he commented, stepping back from the tree to make sure it was straight. "How does that look?"
"Great," she smiled. "Now, help me with these lights."
"In one second." He walked over to the stereo, put in a CD then returned to the floor next to her. Within seconds Bing Crosby's Christmas Classics filled the air.
"So you're not as much of a Scrooge as I thought, huh?" She handed him a tangled knot of lights.
"Guess not." Holding up the wire bunch, he threw them back in the box. "What do you say we do a little shopping?"
Monica nearly dropped her bundle of lights and stared at him. "Did you get hit in the head with the tree?"
"No," he laughed. "I just thought... well... this may be the start of a new tradition and all that... well... maybe new lights and ornaments are in order."
She sat speechless.
"If you don't want to..."
Her eyes watered. "A new tradition?"
"Yeah. If you want that is. It's kind of nice sharing this whole holiday thing with my best friend..."
Inside her heart sank, but she refused to ruin the moment. "Yeah, it is," she agreed. She took his hand and he pulled her up from the floor. "Where are we going?"
"Don't know, really. Target to start? It's closest and I know they're open late."
Monica merely nodded as she slid her coat on.
************
A light coating of snow covered the ground as they pulled into the parking lot.
"Guess a lot of people had the same idea," John grumbled upon having to park at the far end of the lot.
"Hope there's still stuff left," added Monica. She refused to let her own mood bring her down so on the way over she pushed aside the hurt of him seeing her as a best friend and planned on thoroughly enjoying every moment she could spend with him.
Bundling themselves against the snow and wind, they made their way across the parking lot and shook off their coats before stepping inside. The automatic doors swished open and Nat King Cole's version of "The Christmas Song" filled the air... along with aisles packed with shoppers.
John looked at Monica. "This was my idea, huh?"
"Yep."
"Okay," he said, taking his hand in hers, "Let's get going then." He kept hold of her so as not to lose each other in the masses.
First stop was the ornament aisle. There weren't many left but enough.
"You start at that end and I'll start here," John told her. "You're the expert," he teased.
Wrinkling her nose at him, she followed orders. Within moments they met in the middle, both with a few boxes of various ornaments. Some large, some small, some sparkling, some plain.
"I think we'll lose the tree with all these," Monica chuckled.
"Let's get them anyway. I can always use them next year."
She then led him to the lights section. "What kind of lights do you want?"
"What kind do you like?"
Shrugging, she looked over some of the displays. "I've always been partial to the blinking colored ones. But it's your tree..."
"Our tree," he quickly corrected her. "So blinking color lights it is." He reached out to grab a few boxes when she stopped him.
"You have to decide if you want slow blinking or fast blinking. And do you want red, white, and blue or multi-color?"
"What? What happened to simply blinking lights?"
"Technology and consumer demand."
"You know, I'm beginning to think Mulder was right, there is a conspiracy but it's not by the government." He once again helplessly looked at the lights. "What do you think?"
"And they say *women* can't make up their minds?" She picked up a couple boxes and read them. "I say a mixture of both fast and slow. Personally, I'd go with the multi-color too."
"Maybe I should have just bought a fake, pre-decorated tree."
Nudging him with her shoulder, she continued looking over the selections. "I think that should.... OH MY.... THEY DON'T!" She ran to the end of the aisle, her eyes as wide and excited as a child's.
"Mon?"
She held up a large box. "You HAVE to get these, John!"
"What? They're lights."
Staring at him as if he'd just grown a second head, she held up the box closer. "Just lights? They're the Grinch!!!"
"How old are you again, Monica?"
"Ugh! Where is your inner child?"
Inside he was laughing. If she hadn't found them he certainly would have but teasing her was just too much fun. "Grab 'em and let's get out of here. We have some serious decorating to do!"
"Wait, we can't go without tinsel!"
"Yes we can."
But she stood her ground. "No. We. Can't."
John rolled his eyes but smiled. "I'll wait here for you."
"Better yet, why don't you go get in line, it won't take me long and the lines are never-ending."
"Okay." He shuffled the objects in his arms since there had been no carts left when they arrived. "Probably no point in telling you to hurry."
Shaking her head, she wandered off on a mission.
Ten minutes later she returned to the front of the store in search of Doggett. When she finally found him, he laughed at her for in her arms was not only three boxes of tinsel but also a new angel, four boxes of candy canes, and a neatly folded tree skirt with a snowflake pattern.
"Monica, do you really expect me to put that around my tree?"
"What? You need a tree skirt and it's wintry."
"Yeah, and it's a little um...feminine."
"Feminine? It's snowflakes, John." She looked over it once again. "Well, okay, maybe not quite the macho New York thing but it was all they had left unless you wished for the Powerpuff Girls or Spongebob Squarepants."
"No, I think I'll take this over them thank you." They were close enough to the belt to start placing some of the items there. John looked at his watch. "It's almost ten. Maybe I should drop you off after here and we can finish tomorrow."
She reluctantly nodded. They did still have four more days of work.
Nearly two hours had passed since they had first entered Target. Now, with bags in hand, they exited only to find the 'passing flurries' had turned into quite a small snowstorm. "Um, Mon, maybe you'd better stay at my place tonight. I don't think we'll make it to Georgetown in this."
"Come on, John, it's only a passing flurry," she joked, trudging her way through the five inches of new snow. Reaching his SUV, they piled the bags in and set off.
************
"I'm thinking of a career change," John mumbled while cautiously maneuvering along the snow and ice covered streets.
"Really? And what would that be?"
"Weatherman."
"Meteorologist," Monica corrected him.
"What?"
"Meteorologist. That is the politically correct term they use now."
He laughed and shook his head. "Has anyone ever beat you in Trivial Pursuit?"
"Not recently. But why a weatherman?"
"Meteorologist," he teased, carefully applying the brakes upon approaching a red light. "Anyway, they are the only people in the world who get paid an absurd amount of money to guess. If they're wrong or make a mistake it's 'oh well, my fault' and they are still there week after week, year after year. No pressure."
"You'd be bored to tears and you know it."
"Maybe but it might be worth it." Pulling into his driveway, John stopped the car and looked over at Monica. "You might be snowed in here with me tomorrow you know."
Smiling, she said, "I know. That will give us all day to finish decorating."
He returned her smile but said nothing, opting to get the car unpacked and themselves in the house instead.
*************
It was nearing midnight by the time the car was unpacked and the bags emptied. John and Monica found themselves sitting on his couch watching the Weather Channel.
"Looks like we'll be getting that snow day afterall," Monica said.
"Like I said, career change."
She swatted his arm and laughed then yawned.
"Why don't you go to bed? I think it's pretty safe to assume we won't be making it to work tomorrow."
Nodding, Monica got up and started out of the room then stopped. She turned around but before she could say a word...
"You know where my stuff is and the guest room is all ready. I wouldn't advise picking any clothes that are on the floor however." He grinned. "Haven't had time to do the wash yet."
"Thanks for the warning." Taking another look at the tree, she added, "This could be the best Christmas I've had in a long time." With that, she went upstairs.
John stared after her lost in his own thoughts. He waited until he heard the water turn off in the shower before he, too, retired for the evening.
"John?"
He grunted but made no movement.
"John?"
"Go away," he muttered.
Monica rolled her eyes and stepped closer to his bed. "JOHN!"
"What?" he yelled, sitting straight up. "Geez, Mon, are you trying to kill me?" The clock read 2:15am. He then observed she was standing there shivering in a pair of his sweatpants and a sweatshirt.
"I think you're heater's broken."
"You've got to be kidding," he said, climbing out of bed. Wearing only a pair of boxers he, too, quickly realized how cold it was and wrapped one of the blankets around him.
Monica followed him downstairs and watched as he tried to kick the heat on with the thermostat. Cursing under his breath, he then went to the basement. She waited at the top of the stairs, flinching when she heard him literally kick the furnace.
A few moments later, John returned to the first floor. "Of all the times for this to happen." The sound of his partner's chattering teeth brought him out of his thoughts. "Why don't I start a fire and you can get us something hot to drink."
She nodded and went to the kitchen while John worked on the fireplace. Once the fire took, he went back to his room, put on warmer clothes, and returned to the living room to find Monica curled up in one corner of the couch in front of the fireplace holding onto her hot mug with a deathgrip.
"Any warmer?" he asked, sitting beside her, glad to see her lips had lost their bluish tint.
"Getting there." She handed him his own mug. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear we were in one of those cheesy Christmas movies where everything that could go wrong does."
Grinning, he gave her a sideways glance, trying hard not to dwell on how the light from the fire played on her brown hair or how her chestnut eyes reflected the flickers of the flames. "But things always turn out alright in those movies, don't they?"
"Yeah, I guess they do." Monica got up to look out the window. "And to add yet another cliché to matters." She turned to look at him. "It looks like we're definitely snowed in for at least a day."
John joined her at the window. "Up for that snowball fight?"
"At two-thirty in the morning with no heat in the house? I don't think so."
Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her close. "We can always use body heat to warm up."
"Hm, if I had known you were like this at this time of day, I may have woken you up in the middle of night long ago."
John froze. He had never expected her to flirt back like she had. "Uh..."
But Monica laughed and pulled away from him. "Don't worry, I won't hold it against you." She left the room only to return with her boots.
"Are... are you leaving?"
She looked up at him as she tied the last boot. "No. I thought you wanted that snowball fight."
"Right now? I was kidding!"
"Kidding or not, you made the offer now make good on it."
Aha! Locking eyes with hers, he said, "I also offered to use body heat to keep you warm. Does that mean I have to make good on that offer too?" He went to get his own boots before she could reply.
**************
The snow had piled up to well over a foot by the time they got outside. The serene silence of the night nearly made them forget about the challenge of the snowball fight. But not completely.
John was the first one to get hit. "Hey, you didn't give me time to get ready." He kept his voice low so as not to disturb the neighbors.
"There is no time to get ready. It's every man for himself!" she retorted before sending another snowball his way.
"I'll get you for that," he whispered loudly and sent a snowball her way, but she managed to duck and hit him with three more before he had a chance to get one her way.
"Told you I'd win," she teased.
Finally giving up, he packed a really large snowball and slowly walked towards her.
"John?" She backed away as he got closer. "Don't you even think about it."
He said nothing, merely continued his slow walk in her direction.
"John, I'm warning you." She was stopped by a tree she had backed into. "If you do..."
He was now standing inches from her. Melted snow dripped from his hair. "If I do what?"
"If you do I'll..."
"You'll what?" he grinned, lifting the snowball in his hand.
"I'll...I'll make you finish decorating the tree yourself."
"Oooh, now there's a threat, Ms. Reyes." Then he stopped. He stared into her eyes, beyond her eyes, into her soul.
She shivered, but not from the cold.
The snowball fell from his hand.
Moving closer, he could feel her warm breath mixed with the cold air.
A moment later his lips covered hers. Their first kiss was soft and gentle, almost tentative. Soon her arms wrapped around his neck and they became completely lost in each other.
Breaking only for need of breath, they both smiled.
"I told you things always turned out alright at the end of those cheesy movies," John whispered.
"Yeah, I guess they do."
"Now, about that body heat offer..."
"John, I'm not really..."
He laughed. "I didn't mean *that*! Now who's mind is in the gutter?"
Monica blushed.
Taking her hand, John led her back to the house. "Mon, it's not that I don't... well, it's just..."
"Too soon," she finished for him.
He stopped and looked at her after opening the front door. "Yeah."
She placed a kiss on his cheek. "I'm glad you feel that way too."
They stepped inside and immediately headed to their rooms to change into dry clothes. As Monica reached the doorway to her room, John yelled out to her and threw her some new clothes.
"Figured you didn't really have anything else."
"Thanks."
Moments later they returned to the living room and curled up into each other in front of the fireplace.
As John nuzzled her neck, he asked, "So, what do you want for Christmas?"
Turning to face him, she met his eyes and said, "I already have my wish," before kissing him softly once again, then apologized as she yawned into their kiss.
"Gee, Mon, a man could take that personally you know."
"Yes, and I'm sure you will."
He pulled her closer. "We probably should try and get some sleep. I'll go get some blankets and pillows from upstairs."
"Okay." Glancing at the clock on the mantel she was shocked to see it was nearly six in the morning. 'At least we won't have to go to work today' she thought, yawning once more and closing her eyes.
The next time she opened her eyes, she found a dim lightness peaking through the blinds and was nice and warm lying on a pillow that was breathing and had a heartbeat. She smiled.
"Was wondering when you'd wake up."
She propped herself up on her elbows and looked at John. "Was too comfortable to want to."
He smiled. "Needless to say, Skinner called earlier and told me to call you and tell you we weren't to come in today. So consider yourself called."
"What time is it?"
"Nearly noon."
"Oh. Still snowing?"
"Last time I checked."
Sitting up, she yawned and stretched, then looked puzzled as he also sat up, propping himself up against the couch. "Is the heat working again?"
"Yeah. Weirdest thing actually. It just turned on by itself about three hours ago."
"Must have been fate," she whispered.
He slid an arm around her shoulder and kissed her neck. "Must have been," he agreed.
"Mm, so it wasn't a dream?"
"Nope." He stood up and, at the loss of his warmth, she shivered even in the sweatshirt and pants. "I'm not sure what I have hanging around for breakfast, er, or lunch."
"Coffee will work for now."
"That, I can do, Madame."
While he was getting the coffee, she went over to his stereo. If they were going to spend the day decorating then they would need the perfect selection of songs - she only hoped he had more than one Christmas CD.
By the time he returned, she had the music playing and had begun unpacking the glass ornaments.
"So, oh great tree trimmer, where do we begin?" John handed her the hot coffee and stared at the tree.
"These go on first," she said, handing him one of the ornaments after putting a hook on it. "The larger ones at the bottom and smaller..."
"I was teasing. I have actually done this before."
"Oh, oops, yeah, sorry. Guess I got carried away."
"That's okay. Come on, the sooner we get this done the longer we can enjoy it."
They spent the next few hours placing the various ornaments around the tree, arguing over where there were empty spots, how the lights would cover them up, too many of the same color in one area, but eventually they finished the ornaments and stepped back.
"Looks great," John said.
"Not quite yet. Still needs the lights and tinsel."
He looked at her. "What is it with you and tinsel anyway?"
"Why?" She paused then told him, "In Mexico we never had snow for Christmas, heck, it barely dropped below fifty where I lived. I guess it was the closest thing I ever had to snow for Christmas."
"Well, I think Mother Nature is more than making up for that this year."
"No more stalling, Mr. Doggett. This tree is not going to finish itself you know." She handed him a box of lights and they continued on their task.
The lights took only half an hour and then came time for the tinsel. As Monica handed him his own box she warned, "This is for the tree, not for the floor... or me!"
"Moi? Are you insinuating I would think otherwise?"
"Just throw it on the tree, John." She grinned at him and disappeared around the opposite side.
John laughed when she reappeared a few minutes later. He walked over to her and began picking strands of silver from her hair. "I thought you said this was only for the tree."
She shrugged. "Guess I got a little carried away."
"But you look adorable," he told her, kissing her softly before wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her back against his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I'd say we make a pretty good team."
Reveling in just relaxing in his arms, she nodded.
John left her only momentarily to plug in the lights, then returned to his former position.
"It's truly beautiful," she whispered.
As they stood there a more recent Christmas song filled the air.
Hang all the mistletoe
I'm gonna get to know you better
This Christmas
And as we trim the tree
How much fun it's gonna be together
This Christmas
"I knew we forgot something," John said, gently swaying with her to the song.
"What was that?"
"Mistletoe."
Turning in his arms, she smiled. "Do you really think you need it to get a kiss from me?"
"I don't know, do I?"
She answered him without a word.
The fireside is blazing bright
We're caroling through the night
And this Christmas will be
A very special Christmas for me, yeah
Against his better judgement, John pulled away from Monica. "I happen to have a bag of marshmallows and some chocolate bars. And we have a fire going..."
"S'mores? I have to say I'm surprised."
Presents and cards are here
My world is filled with cheer and you
This Christmas
"Why?"
"I don't know, you just don't seem like the S'mores kind of guy."
"Hey, I'll have you know that S'mores go great with beer."
Monica laughed out loud. "That's more what I figured."
Lights twinkle all around
But your eyes outshine the town
They do, this Christmas
The fireside is blazing bright
We're caroling through the night
And this Christmas will be
A very special Christmas for me, yeah
She sat on the couch watching the lights blink as the fire reflected off the glass ornaments. 'This is a very special Christmas,' she silently agreed with the song.
John, meanwhile, watched her from his kitchen. Something just seemed so perfect about having Monica there for the Christmas season. But more importantly, something just felt so right about having her there. He'd lost his nerve to tell her how he felt after she had awoken from the coma. He had chosen not to say anything to her regarding his feelings for her after finally coming to terms with the death of his son, though she had stood by him through it all. Many a time he had woken to nightmares of her dying before he ever had a chance to tell her. Now, as she sat there so happily, he knew it was finally right.
"Here you go," he said, handing her a long stick with a marshmallow attached to the end.
"Thanks."
They sat by the fireplace in silence watching their marshmallows turn a golden brown.
"Monica?"
"Yeah?"
"I, uh... nevermind."
She removed her marshmallow from the fire and placed it on a piece of chocolate and graham cracker then carefully smooshed it down with the other half of cracker. "What is it?"
"It can wait."
As much as she was craving the S'more, John's sudden change in mood concerned her more. "John?"
Placing his stick along the edge of the fire, he turned to her. "I just... I know we just took this to the next level... us I mean... but..." He looked away and shook his head. "I'm not really good at this."
Monica's heart clutched. She knew he would have second thoughts. "John, if you've changed your mind about..."
Quickly he put a finger to her lips to stop her. He looked directly into her eyes. "Never. I've waited far too long to change my mind now." He drew silent again, his finger still lingering on her lips. "What I'm trying to say is... something I should have let you know long ago. Monica, I want us to stay as more than just friends... I want us to be much more to each other."
"I thought we agreed it was too soon."
He smiled. "No, I mean, I want us to be *us* for... for the rest of our lives."
She didn't move. She didn't breath. She just stared.
"Monica?"
"I... uh..."
"I thought I was the one with the talking problem."
"John, I... I'm not sure what you..."
"I'm not saying let's get married or engaged or anything - not right away. But I want you, no I need you to know, that is what I have in mind. I do love you, Monica. I just either wasn't ready to or didn't want to admit it to myself."
Tears filled her eyes. "I've waited so long to hear you say that."
He tilted his head. "You knew?"
She smiled. "Of course I knew."
"You knew all along that I was in love with you?"
"No. Not in love with me, but I always knew you loved me." She hesitated before, "And now I know both."
"Sometimes it scares me how well you know me."
"How well do you know me?" she asked.
"What do you mean?"
"Did you always know I loved you?"
John nodded. "I think so."
Running her hand down his cheek, she added, "And did you know I've been in love with you since before I left New York?"
This time it was his eyes that filled with tears. "Why... why didn't you ever say anything?"
"Your marriage had just ended, Luke... Brad... No matter how much I wanted you, it just was never the right time, John. I had to wait for you because if I was the only one who felt that way... well, it wouldn't have worked and I wasn't about to lose my closest friend."
He pulled her to him and they held each other tightly. "All those wasted years."
"Don't think that way, John. It took us a long time, but we're where we are meant to be when we're meant to be here."
He pulled back and looked at her. "So, Ms. Reyes, might I inquire as to your plans for New Year's?"
"Why, Mr. Doggett, I do believe this New Year's is already reserved for someone special."
"He's a lucky man," he grinned.
"And I'm a lucky woman," she added. "A very lucky woman," she repeated as he leaned in and kissed her.
The End
Lyrics from "This Christmas" by Gloria Estefan.