I recently started watching some of the more Doggett-centered episodes, and have since discovered Robert Patrick to be utterly attractive in a sort of odd way. Still, I really wanted to just churn out a piece of fluff, if only in an attempt to get him off my mind. Well, it worked (sort of), and here's the fluff!
Disclaimer: if you don't know, you are incredibly stupid. I am OBVIOUSLY not Chris Carter, or the world would be a VERY different place. There'd be a second X-files movie, for a start.
"I don't understand why you have to be so…so stubborn about this, John!" Special Agent Monica Reyes screamed at her partner. Their faces were inches apart, and they were talking over an obviously dead body that was currently stretched out on a cold metal operating table in the morgue. "Why can't you just keep an open mind about this sort of thing?"
"Because you are jumpin' to conclusions, Agent Reyes," Special Agent John Doggett replied, with just as much vehemence as his partner. "Telekinesis is not somethin' that I would immediately think of when I see the state of this body!"
Monica glanced down at the body. "There is a laptop computer embedded in his face, John," she said in quieter tones—she was trying to calm herself down, and it wasn't working. "No one could hurl a computer so that it ends up protruding from their head! No normal human has that kind of strength!"
"Well, maybe he had help from somethin' else," John replied. "Maybe he drugged Mr. Albertson here, and then once he was out, pounded the laptop into his face!"
Monica winced at the graphic image this produced. "There were no fingerprints on the computer, Agent Doggett," she said—her tones were quickly becoming deadly quiet. "And if the murderer pounded the laptop in, as you so vividly postulated, it would be partially, if not fully, destroyed. This computer," she said, pointing down at the body, "is intact!"
Her partner sighed, then said in his characteristic gravelly rumble, "Agent Reyes. I see no evidence suggestin' that someone used telekinesis to kill this man! And I am not about to go jumpin' to completely irrational conclusions, as you appear to be doin'."
"Dammit, John!" she exclaimed, breaking eye contact and storming to the other side of the room. Her fingers itched to reach into her coat pocket and pull out a cigarette—this confrontation was making her antsy.
And it wasn't just the confrontation. Whenever she was around her partner—especially recently—she found herself going weak at the knees whenever he spoke. When he met her brown eyes with his own ice-blue ones, she wanted to jump on him and knock him to the ground. And when they began to fight, like they had just been doing, it took all her self-control to refrain from kissing the hell out of him.
All the evidence pointed to an obvious conclusion: she was falling for him.
'Damn. This could complicate things.
Drawing a shaky breath, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and rubbed the nicotine patch on her upper arm through the cloth of her sleeve. She closed her eyes and willed it to take effect—to no avail. Cursing under her breath in Spanish, she turned back to her partner.
"I'm going to step outside for a minute, okay?" she asked, not really expecting an answer. Without waiting to see how he would react to this, she spun on her heel and walked out the door.
John caught up to her in the hallway. "Where do you think you're goin'?" he asked, gravelly voice sending shivers up and down her spine.
"I told you," she responded, not meeting his gaze. "Outside."
"You're goin' to smoke one of those things, aren't you?" It wasn't really a question—he had seen the pack of Morley's that was already in her hand.
Suddenly Monica felt defiant—and incredibly angry. For the past few months, this man had done nothing but make her feel exceedingly uncomfortable and uncertain as to which way her feelings for him were going to go. Who was he to try to change how she lived her life? It wasn't as if they were involved (oh, if only, if only), so really, he had no business sticking his nose where it didn't belong!
"And what if I am, John?" she asked, turning to face him. For the second time in five minutes, their faces were inches apart—but at that moment, she was too angry to notice. "What business is it to you?"
"I would be very sorry if you killed yourself with a disgustin' habit, Mon," her partner replied with a wry smile on his face. This only served to make Monica even angrier—there was nothing to laugh at here!
"And why would you care, John?" she asked sarcastically. "I'm just your partner, remember? There is always another partner. You of all people should know that."
At her words, John recoiled as if she had punched him in the jaw. His face paled and he quite frankly looked stricken. "You really think that?" he asked softly. "You really think that you mean so little to me?"
Monica subsided in the face of her partner's perplexity. "Well…yes. I mean no. I mean, I know that we go back and everything, but—but—" She stammered off, not really knowing how to finish the sentence and her face fell, her eyes studying the floor.
"Monica," John said, lifting her face with his finger so that she would meet his eyes again. "I really don't know where you would get that idea. You—you're my everything. You're all that I have. You're my entire world."
Momentarily rendered speechless, Monica could do nothing but blink up at her partner in bemusement. Finally, she mustered enough of her wits to utter a very eloquent, "Um…"
John laughed softly. Then, in a moment that Monica would remember forever, he leaned forward and covered her mouth with his. One of his arms encircled her waist, tugging her closer, and the other hand ran down her arm to grasp her hand. Monica simply stood, frozen for a moment, but then she realized that she'd better help him out, or this was going to be over long before she was ready for it to be. She lifted her unoccupied hand to cup the back of his head, but then figured out that it was the hand in which she still held the pack of cigarettes. Making a slight noise of irritation, she threw them behind her, feeling her knees give a little as John chuckled against her lips.
When they finally broke apart, both agents were completely out of breath. John still held her hand in his, and the look on his face made it clear that he didn't intend to let go anytime soon. Monica gave a giddy laugh, and her heart pounded even harder when John reached over to brush a lock of hair off of her face, smiling like she'd never seen him smile before.
They were interrupted by a small "ahem" from behind them. Both agents turned (John still keeping fast hold on Monica's hand), and were greeted by a red-faced Agent Dana Scully. Monica tried to jerk her hand away from John's in a vain attempt to cover up their previous activities, but John wasn't letting go anytime soon.
"Um…" she said again, this time to the petite redhead before them.
"I saw nothing," Dana replied hastily. Then she broke out a grin. "I was wondering how long it'd take you two. Keep it clean, now. In public, at least."
"We'll try to," muttered Monica, watching the other woman walk down the hallway to the morgue room where Mr. Albertson was still laid out. As soon as she heard the door close, she returned her gaze to her partner.
"What say I help you kick the habit?" he asked, a total non-sequitor to the brain-scrambled Monica.
"Huh?" was her cunning response. John laughed, something that she rarely saw him do—it made her want to kiss him some more.
"The smoking. If you're a good girl and don't smoke…well, maybe I can think of a few rewards for you."
Ah. This she knew how to handle. Swaying closer to her partner, she murmured in his ear, "And what if I'm a very bad girl?"
This time it was John's turn to utter an "Um…" Giggling, Monica grabbed his hand again and dragged him out the door.
Oh how fluffy. But you were warned and you still read it, which must mean that you like fluffy stuff. So tell me what you thought! It's really easy—all you have to do is click the pretty lavender button and type into the little box that pops up! Go ahead—give it a shot! I'm sure it'll work out well for you!
