Disclaimer: Yeah, yeah, duh – not mine. Belong to Chris Carter (where is the 2nd movie?!) and 1013 Productions. However, I am always willing to take them off of Mr. Carter's hands if he wishes!

Rating: PG

Category: Monica/John friendship, UST

Spoilers: Improbable (post-ep story).

Author: Traci

Summary: John feels guilty after hitting Monica with the door... but is there more to his concern?

Probabilities

Monica hung up the phone after talking to Scully.

"Is she alright?"

She smiled at John as he walked into her bedroom with a steaming mug of hot chocolate and an ice-pack. "Yeah. A little confused about what happened, but fine."

Sitting on the side of her bed, he gently wrapped the icepack around her swollen wrist then held the mug up to her lips for her. "I'm really sorry for slamming you with the door." He placed the mug on the side table for her.

Laughing, she shook her head. "John, you saved my life. My wrist will be fine. I still don't even know why you're here."

His blue eyes danced. "For once I get to take care of you. Trust me, that doesn't happen often so consider it payback for all the times you took care of me."

She moved to sit up then winced at the weight put on her wrist.

John reached behind her and shifted the pillow. "Just take it easy. It's the weekend so there is no rush to do anything."

Giving him a frustrated sigh, she sat back.

"Are you sure you don't want to go get that checked out?"

"It's a minor sprain."

"Alright. Do you want anything else? Are you hungry?"

Her eyes softened and she gave him a warm smile. "Go home, John. I'll be fine."

"Uh-uh. I'm staying here tonight at least." He looked around. "Um, do you have extra blankets and a pillow?"

Pulling back the covers, she started to climb out of her bed but John pushed her shoulders back. "Just tell me where they are."

"I'm not helpless," she said a little harsher than she meant to. Upon seeing the hurt in his eyes, she took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I'm just not used to having someone else do things for me. I think they are in the closet on the shelf."

He walked over, found them and closed the door. "I'll be right back."

Monica watched him walk out the door. She really was okay but she also knew the guilt he felt for hurting her, though it hadn't really been his fault. She just didn't have the heart to force him to leave.

Moments later he returned. "Do you need any Tylenol or anything?"

No." She yawned. "Sorry, I guess today is finally catching up to me. Are you sure you don't want to go home?"

"I'm sure. I'll be right out on the couch if you do need anything."

Then it hit her. "John?"

He stopped in the doorway and turned around.

"This isn't about my wrist, is it?"

"What are you talking about?"

"This is really about the fact that you figured out Dana and I were supposed to be the next victims."

With a moment's hesitation, he gave her a small, forced smile. "Goodnight, Monica."

"John!"

But he was gone, closing her door behind him.

Sometime in the middle of the night, Monica woke up and nearly screamed.

"I... I'm sorry, Mon. I..."

"John, what are you doing? You just scared the heck out of me! Why are you sitting in my room in the dark?"

"I couldn't sleep," he lied.

Monica turned on her lamp and gave him an amused look. "So instead of turning on the TV, you choose to come in here and stare at me?"

He shrugged. "Sorry. I'll go now." As he got up to leave, she called out.

"Get back here."

Turning back, he walked to her bedside.

"Give me your hand."

He did and she held it tight. "I am really alright." She scooted over on the bed and pulled at his hand, urging him to lie down beside her.

When he obliged, she slid an arm around him and snuggled against him. "I don't think you realize how much you really mean to me," she whispered as she drifted off to sleep once again.

"Probably not half as much as you mean to me," he whispered back once she was asleep. Tangling his fingers in her hair, he reached over with his other hand and turned off the light. "Love you," he mumbled and closed his eyes, holding her tightly – assuring himself she was truly safe.

The End