Title: Lead Me Not Into Temptation

Author: Felicia Zezili

Rating: PG-13  (Violence and Sexual innuendo, language and some supernatural crap)

Category: Angst/ Drama/ DRR/ and a little Reyes/other

Summary: After one night of giving into temptation, Monica is thrown into the middle of a game of cat and mouse and is in danger of losing her own identity.

Disclaimer: I don't own them. I'm not making money from this. Sweet, simple and too the point.

Author's Notes: Not only is this my first DRR, this is my first X-files fan fiction. So, the characters might be a little OOC since I've never worked with them before. I'm sorry in advance. Also the summary really doesn't do the story justice but I really couldn't think of anything else.

Feedback: Oh, God, Yes! It's the best kinda drug and I'm a junkie. I even find that when I don't any, I experience the same kind of withdraw side effects: Depression, sleeplessness, anxiety and…sweating for some reason.

Chapter 1 – She Only Smokes When She Drinks

Monica Reyes pressed the thumb and forefinger of her left hand against her temples and began making slow circular motions in an attempt to banish the building pressure that was forming just behind her eyes. She sighed as she brought her hand away from her face. Who knew that dating could be physically painful? She pushed back a stray lock of her mahogany colored hair and looked across the table at her dinner companion for the evening. She had only been half listening to the man as he rambled on and on about the exciting existence of working in an accounting firm.

Monica looked down at the salad sitting on the white clothed table in front of her. She began to lightly pick at the crisp green lettuce and splices of carrots with her salad fork, watching as the Italian dressing she had poured over top the salad seeped slowly from the top to the porcelain dish that held it. She had nothing against this man personally. He was just one in the parade of eligible men that she had been presented with by her so-called "friends" who set up one blind date after another for her.

She had gone on so many of these dates that it had come to a point where she could tell whether or not anything would happen between her and this man. They weren't even past the salad yet and already Monica knew that there was no chemistry between them. Apparently he was figuring that out too. He pushed his seat back and stood up from the table. "Perhaps we should call it a night?"

Monica looked up from her salad, thoroughly embarrassed. "Peter, I'm sorry I wasn't listening. I just have a lot on my mind. Please sit back down."

He forced a polite smile and shook his head. "No need for apology, Monica. I completely understand." He reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wallet and took out some money for the bill. "Can I give you a ride back to your apartment?"

"No. I can take a cab." She said as she began poking at her salad again. Why bother adding to the awkwardness? And besides, she hadn't spent more then an hour to get ready in her best dress just to go home so early in the evening.

Peter placed some money on the table to cover his portion of the meal, then left the restaurant. Monica dropped her fork into the salad, pushed the plate away from her and propped one elbow up on the table and then leaned her head against her hand. It had only been a little more then a month since she had been transferred back to the New Orleans FBI field office after the X-files had been closed—again. This time it was promised to be a permit thing. She would admit that she was suffering from a slight depression because of it. If there was one thing he hated about her job it was the constant up rooting that she went through. Sure cases caused her to travel to different parts of the country frequently but still she at least had a place to call home. She hated that just when she was beginning to feel comfortable with a place that she was required to pack all that up and move to some unfamiliar place. Well, New Orleans wasn't exactly unfamiliar territory to her. She had been working here when she got the call from John to help out with a missing person case.

It wasn't just the moving though. There were other factors to her depression. Working on the X-files was a dream job to her. She couldn't but feel a slight unwanted twinge of guilt for it's closing. Mulder and Scully had put their blood and sweat into that office and risked their own lives on a number of occasions, fighting this unseen enemy that would have preferred if their activities remained covert. It was irrational she felt some sort of responsibility for it's closing but it was still there. She couldn't help but think they could have dig deeper for the truth. Fought harder to keep the office open but everything had happened so fast. The higher powers that be swooped in quickly and mercilessly to shut them down. 

Then there was her partner during those years in that basement office, John Doggett. A small smile formed on her lips as thoughts of him rose in her mind. She had always been drawn to him. At first she had thought that it was just a need to turn him into a believer and she attacked that task tenaciously. But after a while she had come to realize that there was more to it then that. John was a man of convictions. He was dependable and reliable and deserved so much more then what fate had dealt him.  She wouldn't deny that she had feelings beyond friendship towards him but it seemed inappropriate to act on them at the time. He had his own issues to deal with and just wasn't ready for the emotional burden of a romantic relationship. She had decided to let things progress on their own and see where it led them. It looked very promising around the end but then her transfer came and she hadn't talked to him since.

Monica downed the rest of her wine wanting to banish the depressing thoughts from her mind. "You should really watch yourself with that." A voice behind her said. The voice came out of nowhere and made her lurch forward in her chair, causing the wine to slide down the wrong pipe. She went into a fit of coughing and reached for one of the smaller glasses of water, taking a few slow sips.

She cleared her throat and turned in her chair too look who was behind her with the full intent of telling the person off but when she turned and got a look at the individual, the idea left her mind. The voice had come from a man that had come to stand behind her. He was tall, which was good for her considering her own height, with slicked back black hair. His skin had a tan tone to it and his dark eyes burned with intensity. He smiled down at her and for a fleeting moment looked incredibly handsome. "I'm sorry if I scared you." He apologized.

Monica blinked trying wake up her wits that had suddenly gone numb. "Um…No that's alright. You're right I shouldn't be drinking like this—I don't usually." She added quickly. "I'm not a big drinker but I thought tonight I could make an exception."

"Why the sudden change?"

Monica shrugged, "It just hasn't been my day…well, more like month actually." The conversation was interrupted as the waiter came to the table and placed down two dishes of crawfish étouffée, one before Monica and the other in the place Peter had occupied. Monica looked down at the meal for a moment, then back to the man standing behind her. "Are you here with someone?"

"No. I'm alone. I was having a drink at the bar."

"Well, if you are interested, I have two orders of étouffée and I only plan on eating one. It seems wrong to waste it when there are so many starving people in this world." She glanced around the room to make sure there weren't any ease droppers. She leaned in closer to him and added in a hushed tone, "Also, I don't want it to look like my date left me right in the middle of dinner."

He grinned down at her and once again Monica found that numbness enter her mind. "Since you put it that way how can I say no?" He walked around to the other side of the table, taking the empty seat. "You're a helluva saleswoman, Miss…" 

"Monica Reyes." She held her hand out across the table.

"Monica. That's a pretty name." He said accepting her hand. "I'm Nick Aldon."

The night went by much easier from that point on. They ate their meal and became more acquainted with each other, though the conversation seemed to be centered mostly on Monica. Nick gave out very vague details about himself and his life but Monica didn't pry. She had just met the guy, she didn't need to know his life story. What was puzzling her more was, why she was willing to tell him so much about herself. He just seemed to have that type of personality that made people that he encountered want to open up to him…or it could have been the three glasses of wine she that loosened her lips. Either way she wanted to talk to someone. Needed to talk to someone. She needed to reach out and make a connection with another soul. She had this sense of personal isolation since leaving D.C and that mixed with the depression was starting to get the better of her.

"So…" She went on with her narrative of her life up to this point. She pulled out a pack of cigarettes she kept in her purse and shook out one. She had told herself that she would quite this bad habit but bad habits die hard. Besides she had cut down considerably. She only smoked when she drank and she rarely drank. "I graduated from Brown University and for a while I didn't know what I wanted to do with myself. There isn't much one can do with a masters in Folklore and Mythology. I considered a career in academics for a while but some how I become interested in the FBI…much to my parents dismay."

Nick took a sip of his wine and leaned back in the chair, "They didn't approve?"

She held the cigarette up to her lips and light it, taking a long drag, then pulling the cancer stick away from her mouth and slowly blew out a stream of smoke. "My father had a modicum of support for my decision. He was smart enough to know once I have my mind set on something it's near impossible to sway me. My mother however, went on this whole lecture about how it's a man's job." She shrugged her shoulders lazily and tapped the end of the against the side of the ashtray on the table. "It didn't really matter what she said though because I enrolled at Quantico anyway."

"What was you're first assignment?"

"Investigating claims of satanic ritual abuse. None of the claims were ever proved but I saw some weird things." She inhaled from the cigarette again and blew out the smoke. "I've seen shit that would turn Ernie Hudson white."

Nick chuckled slightly and reached over across the grasped her wine glass, picking it up and pulling it over to his side of the table. "I think you've had enough."

She grinned at him and nodded, "You're probably right. I should be heading home now." She stubbed out the cigarette and stood up.

He followed in suite. "I'll see you home."

"No, you really, you don't have to."

"Please, I insist." He suddenly reached out and took hold of her hand.

Less then 20 minutes later the two of them were standing at the front door of Monica's home with the taxi that had brought them waiting for Nick to return. Monica looked into his eyes. There was something alluring about his gaze. "Thank you…" She started out slowly. Not sure as what to say at this point. None of her dates had ever lasted long enough to get to this point. "I actually had a good time."

He lifted his hand, brushed back a strand of her dark hair and  then rested the palm of his hand against her cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing against the corner of her mouth. "I'm glad." He said softly. He leaned over and kissed her other cheek. Monica's eyes closed briefly as he whispered into her ear, "You're a very special person, Monica." She knew it was a line and she was too smart to fall for it but she couldn't stop herself  from turning her head slightly and capturing his lips with hers.

The kiss started out gradually but then began to deepen. His arms snaked around her waist and pulled her closer to him. A unwelcome feeling of guilt entered her thoughts though the sweet bliss that she was feeling. What was she doing? She wasn't the type of woman who hooked up with a man she just met. She didn't feel for him this way. She opened her mouth under his and felt a shiver run through her. She knew she had to stop this before it got to far. She needed to break this spell she was under. She couldn't let herself get lost in his arms. She had to pull away from his kiss and look him in the eye and tell him no. His lips moved from her lips to the side of her neck. Of course when she told him no and he left, all the depression and loneliness would return and she was too tired to deal with that tonight. She deserved a least one night oh realease. He moved back up to her ear and caught the tender earlobe gently between his teeth before she head his voice in her ear, "Do you accept me?"

Her brow creased in confusion. "What?"

He spoke again, his voice a husky whisper, "Do you accept me?"

Monica barley got the "Yes" past her lips before he covered her mouth with his and kissed her deeply, without reserve. The power of it was so strong that it made her head spin and her brief felt like it was sucked right from her lungs and something else was being replaced.

After a few moments, she finally pulled back from his kiss and looked at him in the dark of the night. Why was she making excuses any way? She had no obligations to anyone. For an instant the thought of John popped into her head but she shook her head slightly. John wasn't here. A girl's got to do, what a girl's got to do. She had to start getting over John and this man could help her even if it was only one night.

The black night sky was fading to navy as the sun began to rise as Nick let himself out of Monica's home. He didn't want anyone finding him here. He had done his job. Grant it, it may not have been the best idea to unknowingly leave such a hefty responsibility on Monica's shoulders. But they wouldn't think to look for it here and if they did, she was an FBI agent and completely capable of defending herself and Annie would come along anytime now and watch out for her. Yes this was the best way to go about it.

He continued to walk down the street for hours and by the time the sun had completely risen into the clear blue sky, he was walking along a long stretch of highway, outside the city limits. The highway was pretty mush deserted at this early hour. When he heard a car engine behind him, he instinctually turned around. A chill ran through him and the muscles in his body tensed up as he recognized the vehicle. He didn't make any move to run. He knew that this would be his fate when he had first agreed to do this task. It was best to face it now.

The car pulled up to the road beside him and the window of the shot gun seat rolled down. A woman of middle age with short blonde hair and ice blue eyes stared at him. "Hello Nick." She said, her voice mock pleasance.

He forced a smiled his voice tone mimicked hers, "Hello Veronica."

"You know why we are here. Aren't you going to run?"

He looked out ahead at the endless stretch of highway ahead of him and then turned back to the woman in the car. "I'm tired of running." The woman nodded and the back door to the car opened. He climbed in.

To be continued…