Title: Means to an End
Author: Lisa
Email: lc7685@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: I don't own the show, the characters, or anything like that :)
Rating:
Summary: Monica finds herself in a dangerous position after events take a
turn for the worse. Set after Sunshine days, Pre-Truth. Please R/R this is
a WIP :)
Category: DRF/DRUST/DRR...just-all-DR :P Drama, Angst
The plane trip back was uneventful. Both agreed they needed to rest but couldn't, instead discussing the case. Monica held out the packet of lollies every now and then and offered John a couple. He accepted, grateful for the chocolate/coffee attack that it gave him, even if it only lasted a short while. At the rate they were going, they'd be empty before they hit half way.
"So explain your theory to me," Monica began eventually. "These missing persons, it's not an X File?"
"No, I think someone put it on my desk because they thought if we looked into it, no one would really pay much attention."
"Well according to Dana, someone did pay a lot of attention."
"I know, which makes me think... This is bigger than we first thought."
"We first thought? I haven't thought anything yet. John, you're doing enough thinking for three of me." He smiled.
"I thought I'd try it, you know. See whether I liked it or not."
"Yeah, yeah, just explain."
"Well what if someone from the FBI is involved?"
"Someone from the FBI is involved in this plot of yours?" John had already explained his theory: that the three officials faked their own abductions so that the families paid out ransom money. Once they had that money, the three planned to inject a computer virus into their former places of employment, the three largest banks in Washington DC. It was a way-out theory, and silently Monica was proud of John. He'd obviously taken a great leap to come up with it, but strangely, it wasn't as out there as it could be. It was uniquely something John would come up with. She liked that.
"It would explain why it feels as though someone's controlling what we do here and now."
"You get that feeling too?" Monica asked, sarcasm floating through her tone. "Funny, thought that was just me."
"We're nearly there." She sighed. "How come you didn't tell me it was your birthday?" he asked.
"It never came up."
"If I'd known I would've told Skinner not to bother you- Give you a day to yourself." Monica smiled, shaking her head.
"Didn't want a day to myself. Anyway, I had a great time last night and despite it all," she yawned. "I've had a really great day, spent talking to my friends and not actually doing much work."
"Have you got anything yet? I mean asides from the necklace?"
"Didn't think you noticed," Monica replied, smiling to herself. John had noticed, all right. She'd seen it on his face the moment she'd walked in with it on, but he hadn't said anything, gentlemanly as he was. "Mum and dad sent it up for me. Came early."
"It's nice."
"Thanks, I think so too. Mm, I need sleep." She closed her eyes briefly, but they snapped open as the plane hit turbulence. She involuntarily gasped and John reached out, covering her hand with his.
"Turbulence, Mon," he said, watching her carefully.
"Sorry, yeah." He shook his head.
"It's okay." She smiled over at him.
"Thanks. Reminded me of the crash-"
"Yeah, I know. So what do you think Scully's gonna think about my theory?" John asked to lighten the mood. She grinned, tilting her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye.
"I think she's going to say 'Monica, what have you done to him?' and then she'll turn to me and say 'Nice work Mon'." She laughed as John pouted. She'd never seen him pout before. It was...interesting. Suddenly she became very aware that his hand was still on top of hers. She slid it out gently and noticed a flicker of something across John's eyes. Disappointment? Fear? She couldn't tell. She smiled anyway in the hope that the look would soon disappear. It did.
*
Scully opened her door to them eagerly.
"Come in. Coffee?"
"Please," John replied.
"Oh God yes," Monica cut above him. "I'm dying. I feel like I've been sitting down the whole day."
"You have," John pointed out. Monica flopped down onto Scully's couch.
"And yet," Scully started, glancing pointedly at Monica. Sitting down, once again. Monica only groaned something unintelligible.
"How's the basement looking?" John asked.
"Better. Wanna tell me what they were looking for?" John nodded, opening his briefcase and pulling out the files.
"These." Scully glanced at them as the hot water jug clicked off, reaching the boiling point.
"Missing persons files?"
"You should hear his theory," Monica stated. Scully looked up at John, eyes wide.
"You have a theory?"
"What do the two of you think I am? Some kind of blood hound that only follows one scent?"
"Uh...yeah," Scully replied seriously, handing him a mug of coffee and taking two over to the couch. She put them both down on the coffee table and slid one closer to Monica, who opened an eye and glanced at it. John had caught her doing that once or twice before, and had decided it was an idiosyncrasy, and a cute one.
As they all sat down, John explained himself to Scully, who listened intently.
"So you've got four suspects? Three of them here, and one other one-"
"Working the inside. Falsifying documents at the FBI, doing some final planning."
"Any idea who it might be?"
"It'll be a guy," Monica stated, breaking her silence. "Probably our age, with a family - all the others had families - who, I dunno, wants to take over the world one day." She opened her mouth really widely and yawned. Holy hell, John thought. She really was tired. Scully picked up Monica's empty mug and John followed her with the rest into the kitchen.
"She okay?" Scully asked. "Seems really tired-"
"Had a late night last night and didn't sleep too well I don't think."
"And you would know that how?"
"She told me," John lied. Ahuh, thought Scully. Sure! She tried not to grin, but couldn't help it.
"Did she tell you her parents called while you were in the air today? They said to tell you hi."
"No, she didn't. Thanks."
"I didn't know you were close with her parents?"
"I'm not. Only met them once. You know those Mexican types though-" John fumbled his way through an excuse. Scully raised an eyebrow. "Oh all right," he succumbed. "I really did only meet them once, but her mother obviously assumed we were much closer than we are." Scully nodded knowingly.
"Of course."
"You don't believe me?"
"Of course!" she repeated, this time with more emphasis. John laughed and after awhile Scully joined in. When they returned to the living room, Monica was fast asleep.
"Cute," Scully remarked. Cute? John thought.
"I'll wake her, take her home." Scully put a hand on his arm.
"No, she can stay here. Don't disturb her. All that MacDonald's must have tired her out. I'll go and get a blanket." Scully walked off down the hallway as John approached Monica. She looked really uncomfortable, half sitting, her body sliding slowly sideways along the couch. He gently took her neck and waist and helped her lie all the way down, before he picked up her ankles and moved her legs onto the couch too, removing her shoes. Scully returned with a blanket and laid it over her. "Drive safely John," she said as John said goodnight and left.
*
Category: DRF/DRUST/DRR...just-all-DR :P Drama, Angst
The plane trip back was uneventful. Both agreed they needed to rest but couldn't, instead discussing the case. Monica held out the packet of lollies every now and then and offered John a couple. He accepted, grateful for the chocolate/coffee attack that it gave him, even if it only lasted a short while. At the rate they were going, they'd be empty before they hit half way.
"So explain your theory to me," Monica began eventually. "These missing persons, it's not an X File?"
"No, I think someone put it on my desk because they thought if we looked into it, no one would really pay much attention."
"Well according to Dana, someone did pay a lot of attention."
"I know, which makes me think... This is bigger than we first thought."
"We first thought? I haven't thought anything yet. John, you're doing enough thinking for three of me." He smiled.
"I thought I'd try it, you know. See whether I liked it or not."
"Yeah, yeah, just explain."
"Well what if someone from the FBI is involved?"
"Someone from the FBI is involved in this plot of yours?" John had already explained his theory: that the three officials faked their own abductions so that the families paid out ransom money. Once they had that money, the three planned to inject a computer virus into their former places of employment, the three largest banks in Washington DC. It was a way-out theory, and silently Monica was proud of John. He'd obviously taken a great leap to come up with it, but strangely, it wasn't as out there as it could be. It was uniquely something John would come up with. She liked that.
"It would explain why it feels as though someone's controlling what we do here and now."
"You get that feeling too?" Monica asked, sarcasm floating through her tone. "Funny, thought that was just me."
"We're nearly there." She sighed. "How come you didn't tell me it was your birthday?" he asked.
"It never came up."
"If I'd known I would've told Skinner not to bother you- Give you a day to yourself." Monica smiled, shaking her head.
"Didn't want a day to myself. Anyway, I had a great time last night and despite it all," she yawned. "I've had a really great day, spent talking to my friends and not actually doing much work."
"Have you got anything yet? I mean asides from the necklace?"
"Didn't think you noticed," Monica replied, smiling to herself. John had noticed, all right. She'd seen it on his face the moment she'd walked in with it on, but he hadn't said anything, gentlemanly as he was. "Mum and dad sent it up for me. Came early."
"It's nice."
"Thanks, I think so too. Mm, I need sleep." She closed her eyes briefly, but they snapped open as the plane hit turbulence. She involuntarily gasped and John reached out, covering her hand with his.
"Turbulence, Mon," he said, watching her carefully.
"Sorry, yeah." He shook his head.
"It's okay." She smiled over at him.
"Thanks. Reminded me of the crash-"
"Yeah, I know. So what do you think Scully's gonna think about my theory?" John asked to lighten the mood. She grinned, tilting her head to look at him out of the corner of her eye.
"I think she's going to say 'Monica, what have you done to him?' and then she'll turn to me and say 'Nice work Mon'." She laughed as John pouted. She'd never seen him pout before. It was...interesting. Suddenly she became very aware that his hand was still on top of hers. She slid it out gently and noticed a flicker of something across John's eyes. Disappointment? Fear? She couldn't tell. She smiled anyway in the hope that the look would soon disappear. It did.
*
Scully opened her door to them eagerly.
"Come in. Coffee?"
"Please," John replied.
"Oh God yes," Monica cut above him. "I'm dying. I feel like I've been sitting down the whole day."
"You have," John pointed out. Monica flopped down onto Scully's couch.
"And yet," Scully started, glancing pointedly at Monica. Sitting down, once again. Monica only groaned something unintelligible.
"How's the basement looking?" John asked.
"Better. Wanna tell me what they were looking for?" John nodded, opening his briefcase and pulling out the files.
"These." Scully glanced at them as the hot water jug clicked off, reaching the boiling point.
"Missing persons files?"
"You should hear his theory," Monica stated. Scully looked up at John, eyes wide.
"You have a theory?"
"What do the two of you think I am? Some kind of blood hound that only follows one scent?"
"Uh...yeah," Scully replied seriously, handing him a mug of coffee and taking two over to the couch. She put them both down on the coffee table and slid one closer to Monica, who opened an eye and glanced at it. John had caught her doing that once or twice before, and had decided it was an idiosyncrasy, and a cute one.
As they all sat down, John explained himself to Scully, who listened intently.
"So you've got four suspects? Three of them here, and one other one-"
"Working the inside. Falsifying documents at the FBI, doing some final planning."
"Any idea who it might be?"
"It'll be a guy," Monica stated, breaking her silence. "Probably our age, with a family - all the others had families - who, I dunno, wants to take over the world one day." She opened her mouth really widely and yawned. Holy hell, John thought. She really was tired. Scully picked up Monica's empty mug and John followed her with the rest into the kitchen.
"She okay?" Scully asked. "Seems really tired-"
"Had a late night last night and didn't sleep too well I don't think."
"And you would know that how?"
"She told me," John lied. Ahuh, thought Scully. Sure! She tried not to grin, but couldn't help it.
"Did she tell you her parents called while you were in the air today? They said to tell you hi."
"No, she didn't. Thanks."
"I didn't know you were close with her parents?"
"I'm not. Only met them once. You know those Mexican types though-" John fumbled his way through an excuse. Scully raised an eyebrow. "Oh all right," he succumbed. "I really did only meet them once, but her mother obviously assumed we were much closer than we are." Scully nodded knowingly.
"Of course."
"You don't believe me?"
"Of course!" she repeated, this time with more emphasis. John laughed and after awhile Scully joined in. When they returned to the living room, Monica was fast asleep.
"Cute," Scully remarked. Cute? John thought.
"I'll wake her, take her home." Scully put a hand on his arm.
"No, she can stay here. Don't disturb her. All that MacDonald's must have tired her out. I'll go and get a blanket." Scully walked off down the hallway as John approached Monica. She looked really uncomfortable, half sitting, her body sliding slowly sideways along the couch. He gently took her neck and waist and helped her lie all the way down, before he picked up her ankles and moved her legs onto the couch too, removing her shoes. Scully returned with a blanket and laid it over her. "Drive safely John," she said as John said goodnight and left.
*