Title: Deflowering Monica
Rating: PG-13
Category: Humor, hints at PWP, Romance
Genre: Het
Pairing: Doggett/Reyes
Summary: "We're all alone. In the middle of a parking lot."
Spoilers: Definitely none.
Disclaimer: These characters belong to Chris Carter, FOX, Ten Thirteen, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.
Author's Notes: Comes from my recent fannish post of doom in my Livejournal where I suggested people give me pairings & random objects or words as prompts, and I would write a comment!fic, the length of an LJ comment or shorter. This fic prompted Doggett/Reyes and both a dead rose and parking. I'm naughty. :D
"Hey, John, look at this."
John walked over to where Monica was crouched, in the middle of a parking lot in south Detroit. They had been sent there on assignment to investigate – and I'm not even joking – The Flower Killer, who was a serial murderer who used flowers as clues for his latest kill.
Monica held up a dried rose. "I think this might be a clue."
John eyed the bud warily, not sure where Monica was going with this. "Mon, if you have any insight that I'm missing, please feel free to share."
Monica stood up, brushing off her thighs, and rolled her eyes at him. "What do we know about this guy? He uses flowers as clues. A dead rose, in the middle of a parking lot? You connect the dots."
"Yeah, but Mon," John stepped closer, plucking the flower from her fingers, "we don't even have a murder anywhere near this lot. Unless a body magically appears in front of us, I'd say we don't have a lot to go on."
Suddenly, they heard a noise and . . .
No, I'm just kidding. There was nothing. But that would have been pretty damn convenient, no?
John continued to give Monica a pointed look, wondering where she was going to take this.
"Well, I – John, you're not being fair."
John couldn't help but smirk. "Fair? What does this have to do with being fair? We're wasting our time out here, Mon." He turned in a circle, his arms spread to motion at the empty lot. "We're stuck here in this middle of this parking lot, with absolutely nothing. I say we pack up our things and tell Skinner we're outta here. I'm sick of him using our time like this."
Monica nodded along with him, but she wasn't really listening. "John, do you realize what you just said?"
He turned to face her again. "Yeah. We're wastin' our time."
"No, before that," she said, a devious grin spreading across her face.
"What?" John asked, the grin jumping to his own face.
She swaggered over to him, placing her hands on his chest. "We're all alone. In the middle of a parking lot."
"Ahh," John said, finally getting it.
"They don't call it parking for nothing," Monica said, and took his hand in hers. "Come on, secret agent man, I've got a better use of our time, right over there in that little SUV."
John smiled broadly and followed her to their vehicle. "I'll have to make sure to thank Skinner for sending us out here when we get back to D.C."
Monica giggled as she opened the door. "You ready to investigate my case?"
"Never been more ready," John responded, and with a quick shove, he pushed her inside the car.
What happened next? Well, as the saying goes, if the SUV's a-rockin', don't come a-knockin'.
END!!
