Monica was done talking and her crying had become uncontrollable. John held her tight against his chest and gently rocked her. She kept crying for several minutes, loudly sniffing and coughing. John sadly looked at his partner, tears shining in the corner of his eyes. "Are you okay, Mon?"
Monica looked up at him with watery eyes. "I feel better already John. It helped to talk about it and I'm glad you listened to me."
"I wouldn't have done it for anyone else."
Monica took John's shirt between her fingers and looked up at him, a small smile crossing her features. "It seems I soaked your shirt."
John looked down at his shirt and smiled at her. "That okay Mon." He got up and held out his hand for her to take. She took it and he helped her to her feet. She gave him a smile, before following him to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and peered inside. Behind him, Monica was almost grinning. "Well, there's not much eatable in there. How about ordering something?"
"I'm not really hungry John, but don't let that stop you."
John gave her a worried look. "You gotta eat, Mon. You need your strength."
"I know John, but I feel like throwing up when I think about food."
"I don't think food will get that feeling away, Mon."
"But still..."
John put his hands on Monica's shoulders and looked her deeply in the eyes. She sighed and turned her head away. She was staring at the floor and felt John's finger under her chin. He gently lifted her head and saw tears threatening to fall. Without saying a word he pulled her in his arms and held her tightly. She put her arms around his waist and clutched to him for dear life. They stayed like that for several minutes, before John pulled away and laid his hand on Monica's cheek. "I'm worried about you Mon. I feel like I should do more for you. I want to help you, but I don't know how."
"John, don't..."
"Monica, it was my fault. I should have been there for you. If I had come in like I should have, none of this would have happened."
"John..."
"No Monica!"
John was starting to yell at Monica and tears were trickling down his face. Guilt was getting the best of him. He turned around and kicked against the nearest table. A glass fell on the floor and John was getting madder. He cleaned his kitchen table with a swipe from his arm, knifes and more glasses falling on the floor. Monica stood leaning against the wall, looking at John with a scared face; John was loosing it. He punched his arms through his kitchen window breaking it into a million pieces, blood slowly dripping from his fist. Monica ran to the living room and sat down on the floor against the wall. She pulled her knees against her chest and started crying. John immediately followed her, sat down against the wall next to her and pulled her to him. He rocked her against him, both of them crying.
"I'm sorry Monica. I didn't mean for this to happen. I wish I could turn back the clock and undo everything that happened to you. I wish I could take some of your pain away. I am so angry and I don't know how to get rid of that anger. I just don't know it anymore Mon. I wanna kill that bastard, I wanna rip his heart out, I wanna..." His voice turned into a whisper. "I guess I want a lot of things."
John kept on crying and his tears fell on Monica's hair. She was sobbing into his chest and they cried into each other for a while, hoping to find a little release. Monica was the first to pull away and she looked at John. She had never seen him cry like that before, not even when Luke was found dead. His eyes were red and puffed and a lonely tear made its way over his cheek, falling down on his shoulder. He looked at her and laid his head on his knees. Monica put her head on John's back and encircled his waist. John turned into her embrace and pulled her into his lap. He held her tightly and murmured tender words into her hair. After a while, they got up and John took both of Monica's hands in his. "Mon, I dunno what to say anymore."
"You don't have to say anything, John."
"I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you. It's not your fault. It's entirely mine." Guilt was getting the better of him over and over again. He tried to fight that feeling, but he just couldn't. In his eyes he was right; what had happened to Monica was his fault.
Monica sighed. "John, when will you finally understand that none of this is your fault?"
"It is..."
Monica raised her voice. "Just don't dare to say it, John!"
"Monica!"
Monica's eyes spat fire. "John! Why don't you just shut up!" She gave him an angry looked and stomped off. She opened the door to the backyard and threw it shut. She plopped down on the bench in the back of John's garden and stared in front of her. Her eyes were clouded with unshed tears.
Inside, John was throwing angry punches at his punching ball in his basement. He tried to cool down before going after Monica, but it didn't help. He was so angry with himself. And instead of helping her, he was taking in his anger out on her, because she didn't want him to feel guilty. Maybe it was because of the fact that he couldn't really help her. He blamed himself and Monica refused to blame him. And he hated her for that. He realised he couldn't do that to her. She needed him as much as he needed her. It was as simple as that. And as weird as it may have sounded, John needed Monica at least as much as Monica needed him. She was the victim and he still needed her for comfort. It was complicated, yet it was so simple. John knew very well that he was being selfish. He needed to talk to Monica, because if he kept acting like that he would not only lose himself, but Monica too.
He walked outside and saw Monica on the bench in the back of his yard. She was staring in front of her, probably watching the beautiful view John had from his yard. He walked behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, softly massaging them. She looked up at him with tear-clouded eyes. She got up and walked away. John let out a sigh; he had really hurt her.
Monica was now leaning against a tree and tears had found their way down. John walked up behind her and encircled her waist. She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly. The harder Monica fought to get away from him, the harder he held her. She finally gave up the fight and turned around into him embrace, her arms going around his neck. He gently rocked her and Monica cried with all the tears she had left. He whispered soothing words and tenderly kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry Mon." John looked down. "I didn't mean to get mad at you. I'm mad at myself and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have done that. I just want to be there for you. That's all I really want. And if you need me Mon, I'm here for you. Whatever happens, whatever it takes." He raised his eyes and looked her in the eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do ya think you could forgive this fool?"
Monica softly started sobbing again, the impact of his words finding their way into her fragile heart. "Of course I can forgive you John. I need you, more than ever before." Tears followed sobs and soon she was crying again.
"Shhh, it's okay Mon. I'll help you through this, I promise. You won't be alone. You'll never be alone again." John hugged her tightly, took her hand in his and together the walked back to the house. They sat down on the couch and John looked at Monica, another worried look on his face.
"I'm okay John. I'm already feeling much better. I guess our little talk really helped. Thank you."
A small smile appeared around the corner of John's lips. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Mon. I'll always be here for you."
Monica gave him a thankful smile. "I know John. And believe me, I'm very grateful."
John shrugged his shoulder. "Sure. Wanna do some lunch? Do you think you could make me feel better and eat a little?"
Monica shook her head. "I'm not really hungry John, but I'll try to eat something."
John smiled and for the first time since the whole ordeal happened, the smile reached his eyes. "That's my girl." He got up from the couch and took a phone book out of his cabinet. After selecting a Chinese restaurant he dialled up and ordered his food. He was told they would be there in about half an hour. John turned to Monica, her eyes closing. He gently smiled at her and put his hand on her hair. "They'll be here in half an hour."
Monica nodded. "Do you think I can take a shower in the meantime?"
"Do you think that's wise? I mean, are you allowed to shower with your stitches?"
"They said I would be fine if I was being careful."
"Okay then. There are some clean towels in the cabinet and I might have some strawberry smelling shampoo somewhere in the back of the closet under my sink."
Monica stared at him, her eyes wide. "Strawberry John? I didn't picture you as a strawberry kind of guy."
"I'm not." John could see in her eyes that she did clearly not believe him. "I'm really not Mon. That shampoo just made part of a stupid bet."
Monica rolled her eyes. "That must have been some bet."
John giggled. "You'd better believe it." Monica looked at him expectantly, but he shook his head. "I'm not gonna tell you, Mon."
"Come on John, you can't stop now. If you say A, you have to say B."
He kept shaking his head. "Nice try Mon, but I'm still not telling you."
"Spoilsport."
"I may be a spoilsport, but I still think a guy's gotta have his secrets."
"Right John." Monica turned around and made her way to the stairs.
John called her back. "Do you need a hand Mon?"
"In your dreams John Doggett."
John narrowed his eyes. "To get upstairs?"
"Thanks, I'll be fine John." She slowly walked up the stairs, John looking at her until she had disappeared from his view. Monica thought a shower would do her good. She felt dirty. She felt like taking a shower every minute of the day. Although being tired, she wanted to scrub her entire body for an hour. She took some clean underwear out of her bag and found a clean towel in his cabinet. She opened the closet under the sink and in the back she found a bottle of strawberry shampoo. Next to it, she noticed a bottle of liquid peach soap. It wasn't the brand she was used too, but it would do. She undressed, threw her still clean clothes in a corner, not really caring were they landed and enjoyed the stream of warm water spreading over her body.
Downstairs John had turned the television on and was channel surfing. If Monica would see him, she would probably point out that it was a typical male thing to do. And maybe it was, but John didn't care. He wanted to find a NASCAR race, but when he found none, he settled for a game of hockey instead. The Los Angeles Kings were playing a friendly game against some Russian team. LA was leading by 2-1 and John sank down in his couch, trying to enjoy the game and taking his mind off things. It was a very good game and he got caught up in the action, yelling at the referee. He almost jumped from the couch when the doorbell rang. He opened it, to find a young Chinese boy standing on the other side. "Your order, Sir. That'll be $16.90 please."
John handed him a twenty-dollar bill. "Keep the change."
"Thank you Sir. Enjoy lunch."
The boy turned around and left, John closing the door behind him. He put the food on the table and called Monica. She didn't answer and he tried calling her again; still no answer. She was probably still in the shower and John walked up the stairs. He knocked on the door and could hear the water running. He tried calling for Monica, but she didn't answer. He opened the door a little and heard soft sobs over the water splashing down. He found her in the corner of the shower, huddled together. Her knees were pulled to her chest and she was violently shaking. He turned the now cold water off, picked her up and wrapped her in the towel. She was shaking in his arms and he tried rubbing her back and arms to warm her up. Her legs gave in and she fell in his arms. He quickly dried her off, carefully avoiding the stitches, some of which had re opened. He put her clothes on, carried her to the bedroom and put her under the covers. He picked up the phone and dialled Scully's number.
After a couple of rings an out-of-breath Mulder picked up. "Mulder."
"Mulder, it's John Doggett. I was looking for Dana."
"She's here. I just came back from a run and she's putting William to bed. I guess she didn't hear the phone."
"Can you get here please? It's pretty urgent. It's about Monica."
Mulder paused on the other side of the phone. "Is she okay?"
John swallowed hard. "I dunno."
"I'll get Scully." John heard the receiver being put down and he could hear Mulder walking around. He heard voices and hurried footsteps. It took her a few seconds to answer.
"John, what's wrong?"
"I dunno. Do you think you could come over? I found Monica in the corner of the shower crying and shaking. Some of her stitches have re opened. She's still shaking and I dunno what to do. I can't get her to react."
"She may be in late shock John. I'm on my way over. I'll be there soon. Try to keep her warm until I get there."
"Thank you." John turned to Monica, only to find her violently shaking. Her eyes were open and she was staring at the opposite wall. John crawled in bed next to her and spooned her back against his front. She struggled a little, but soon she gave up. She felt cold, really cold. John hoped that sharing body heat would help raise her temperature. After a few minutes her shakes were subsiding and she was calming down. John was whispering soothing words into her hair. He moved a little so he could see her eyes and they were closing. It didn't take too long before he heard his front door open and Scully coming up the stairs. "I'm in here Dana."
Scully appeared in the door, a worried look on her face. "How is she?"
John gave her a weak smile. "I think she's falling asleep. Her shaking has subsided and she's much calmer than she was." John got up from the bed and made room for Scully. He looked at her. "Do you think she'll be okay?"
Scully nodded. "She'll be fine John. It's not uncommon for victims to suffer from late shock."
John lowered his shoulders, relieve evident in his features. "I'm glad. I'll leave you to it. I'll be outside if you need me."
Scully smiled. "Thank you for taking such good care of her."
"I'm glad she trusts me enough to do so."
Scully's eyes widened. "Have you ever doubted that, John? She trusts you with her life, you should know that."
John lowered his gaze to the floor. "I realised that. But how could I ever doubt it?"
"John," Scully paused before continuing, "Every partnership goes through doubts. I guess you guys are beyond that stage now."
John left the room and closed the door, leaving Scully in privacy to take care of Monica. A few minutes later she emerged. "John, she's asking for you."
John entered the room and found a crying Monica on the bed. "What happened?"
"Not much. I gave her a shot and she's delusional, which is normal. She thought you had left her. Just try to calm her down, will you? She's gonna sleep it out and she should be fine once she's awake."
John nodded in understanding. "How are her wounds?"
"Nothing too bad John. I put an antibiotic ointment on them and they'll heal fast." She turned around and left the room, pausing in the door. "Take good care of her, John."
"I will, don't worry." John crawled in bed next to Monica and took her in his arms. She clutched to him.
Scully looked at them, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. "I know you'll take good care of her." She was sad about what had happened to Monica, but she was also glad that she had found someone to talk too, someone who would take care of her unconditionally. Victims of rapes or near-rapes always needed help from someone close to them, someone they trusted blindly. Scully knew there was a strong bond between them, but she never realised it was that strong. And she doubted they realised it either. "John?"
He turned his head to her; Monica still clutched to him. "Something the matter?"
"Has she eaten yet?"
John shook his head. "No, she refuses to eat."
"She'll feel much better when she wakes up, but make sure you get her to eat something. Make sure she eats enough in the next few days."
"I will."
Scully smiled sadly and left them. John heard the front door close and he lay down next to Monica. Instinctively she put her arms around his neck and crawled closer to him, if that was even possible.
About five minutes later Monica's breathing had calmed and her eyes were closed. She was in a deep sleep and John got up from the bed, trying not to wake her. She stirred a little when he pulled away from her, her eyes fluttered open for a split second, but she closed them again straight away. John made his way down the stairs and took the Chinese food from the kitchen table and put it in the oven. He took a couple of trays out of the cupboard, took two plates and a couple of glasses. If Monica woke up, all he had to do was heat up the food. He sat down on the sofa and flipped through Channels, settling for Tweetie. That way he wouldn't have to think too hard. Since Monica had been attacked, he had a constant headache. He got up and took a bottle of Tylenol. He swallowed two pills and sat down on the couch again.
Nearly an hour later he hears noises upstairs. He got up and found Monica walking around in the bedroom, rummaging through her bag. "What are you doing Mon?"
She looked up from her bag and pulled out her toothbrush. "I gotta clean my teeth."
John looked at her, surprise evident in his voice. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I feel fine John. I can't remember what happened after I got in the shower, but I feel fine. What happened?"
John took a step closer to her, helping her to her feet. "I found you out cold in the corner of the shower. You were shaking and crying. You were not responding so I called Scully. Apparently you were in a late shock, but she gave you something and it seems to have worked. You can't remember anything?"
Monica shook her head in denial. "No. It's like I fell in some kind of black hole."
"Must be an x-file," John joked. Monica had to smile at this, but John still missed the spark in her big brown eyes. "I'm glad you're better though. You were in pretty bad shape."
Monica held her toothbrush in the air. "Do you mind John?"
"Sure, go ahead. But you might wanna wait till after lunch. Do you think you can eat?"
"Actually I'm kind of hungry, but..." She paused and scratched her chin, "I still wanna clean my teeth first. I've got something between them."
"Okay. I'll just go down and put lunch in the oven. Wanna join me when you're finished?"
Monica smiled gratefully. "Thank you John."
John made his way to the oven and put the food in. Not five minutes later Monica emerged. "What are we having for lunch?"
"Well, I ordered some fried rice with chicken and Chinese mushrooms with beef. What do you want?"
Monica smiled shyly. "I actually like them both. "
"How about sharing then?"
"That's what I call a great idea." John put his finger in the air and waved his arm.
"I have one of those every couple of years. "Monica giggled, her laugh going straight to John's heart. He took her hand and softly caressed her palm with his thumb. "It's great to see you smile again."
She stood on her tiptoes and tenderly kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for everything John." He gave her a bright smile, his eyes shining. They looked at each other for a split second before John pulled her in his arms for a tight hug. They soon pulled apart, John laughing. Monica broke the contact and walked past him and made her way to the kitchen, kneeling down next to the oven. John gave her a questioning look.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking up on the food."
John took her by the arm and walked her to the living room, where he gently pushed her down in the couch. "Just relax Mon and let me take care of everything."
Monica sank down in the couch and watched John walk away to the kitchen. Since he had his back to her, he missed the loving look that crossed her features. Despite her horrible ordeal, her feelings for John were still there. They just were buried in the back of her heart for the moment. But sooner or later she knew she would need him in her life and not just as a partner, a colleague or a friend. But before she could let anything happen between them, they both had some healing to do.
John appeared with a tray not five minutes later and put it down in her lap. Monica smiled at the diet coke he had taken for her to drink. "So you do remember?"
John rolled his eyes. "Of course I remember. How could I forget the lecture you gave me about why you drink diet coke and not regular coke?"
"Was I that bad?"
John shook his head. "No, you were not that bad. Let's just say that I find you explanations," John paused, "memorable." He went back to the kitchen and came out with a second tray, sitting down on the couch next to Monica.
Monica took a spoonful of the Chinese mushrooms and they turned out to be delicious. "This is quite good."
John shook his head in approval. "Best Chinese restaurant in the city."
"I can see why."
Dinner was spent in a very comfortable silence. Monica was enjoying lunch, but she found herself quickly stuffed. She took a sip from her coke and put her tray on the coffee table. John looked at her. "You not hungry anymore?"
"I'm full John."
John eyed her tray. "You have barely eaten anything."
"John, I'm sure my appetite will return to normal soon."
"Mon, you should try to eat some more." John took a spoonful of his plate and looked at her. "Open you mouth Monica."
Monica eyed him suspiciously. "You going to feed me, John?"
John nodded. "If I have too."
"I'm fine John. I don't think I can eat more."
John looked at her with puppy dog eyes. "Just a little more." Monica shook her head. "Please?" She still kept her mouth shut. "Do it for me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but Monica had heard him. She opened her mouth and a smiling John put the fork in her mouth. He took a couple more spoonfuls and was happy to see that Monica managed to eat a little more.
"A girl could get used to this." John rolled his eyes and gave Monica a 10000-WATT smile. He put his hand on her cheek.
"I would feed you every day if you asked me too." Monica blinked her eyes a couple of times and looked straight back at John, moisture appearing in the corner of her eyes.
Before the tears had a chance to fall down, John wiped them away with his thumb. "Don't cry Monica."
Monica sniffed and looked up at him with watery eyes. "How am I supposed not to cry when you say such nice things?"
John's lips turned into a grin. "I dunno. How the heck am I supposed to know that the truth is gonna make you cry?"
"Did you mean what you said John?"
"Of course I meant it. If I had to, I would feed you every day."
"Thank you John." Monica lowered her head to the floor and felt John's finger under her chin, only to look straight into deep blue eyes.
"I meant it Monica."
Monica nodded in understanding. "I know you did John and I appreciate it." Monica held her hand in front of her mouth and yawned. "Sorry."
John motioned in the direction of the stairs with a knick of his head. "Why don't you take a nap?"
"That might be a good idea."
John got up from the couch and held his hand out to Monica. She eagerly took it and he smiled. "Come on, I don't want you to fall asleep in the middle of the stairs."
"I'll be fine, John. But it's very nice of you to walk me upstairs."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." They made their way to John's spare room. Monica lay down on the bed; John pulled the covers up and tenderly kissed her on the forehead. "Have sweet dreams Mon." He smiled at her before he turned on his heels and left the room.
Once John was gone, Monica let out a sigh she had been holding. She realised that John Doggett was more than just a handful. They were growing much closer and she would never have thought it was possible. They were already close before she was attacked, but now John was showing her another side of him and if she was honest, she liked that side. He was tender, caring and protective. A small smile formed around Monica's lips. Her eyes started closing and it didn't take too long before she fell asleep.
Downstairs, John was cleaning up from lunch and threw the leftovers in the bin. He took his keys and hurried out of his house. He needed to do some grocery shopping and he would be back before Monica woke up. The store was only a five-minute drive from his house and at this time of the day it wouldn't be crowded. John pulled his car from the driveway and left for the shop.
Not even thirty minutes later he opened the door to his house, two bags in his hand. It was still quiet in his house, meaning that Monica was probably was still asleep. He opened his fridge and his cupboard and put the food away. Tonight he would make a hot turkey and cheese sandwich with mustard on top. He knew Monica loved them and that was reason enough for him to make them. He went to his living room, put one of his tapes in the video and plopped down on the couch. He put his feet lazily on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, his arms behind his head. John smiled once the theme to Hunter started playing. He had been a fan of the show since the early years and he had taped the film they had shown recently. He had been so busy that he never had to chance to watch it. He relaxed and smiled even more at some sarcastic remark Hunter made. He had always liked that guy. Too bad cops like that were rare.
It was almost seven when John pulled the tape of the latest Hunter episode out of his VCR. He had spent the better part of the afternoon catching up on his favourite series. He let out a sigh and plopped down on the couch again, his feet propped on the coffee table and the remote in his left hand. After some serious Channel surfing he settled for the news on CNN. He was listening to some idiotic report about the New York Stock Exchange and mumbled something to himself.
"Didn't your mom teach you that talking to yourself is the beginning of the end?" He looked up to find Monica standing at the bottom of the stairs, a smile playing around the corner of her mouth.
"And didn't your mom teach you that it is impolite to spy on people," John retorted, trying to hide a grin but failing miserably.
"At least my mom taught me good manners." Monica waved her arm at his feet lying comfortably on the coffee table. "Is that the usual way you watch TV?"
John shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "You forgot the popcorn and the empty cans of beer standing on the table."
Monica sat down next to him and elbowed him in the ribs. "You are a pig, John Doggett."
He raised his eyebrows at her. "But you gotta admit that I'm a cute pig."
Monica rolled her eyes and grinned. "Aren't all pigs cute? They are one of my favourite animals. That's why I like you."
"Well thank you very much for the compliment Ms. Reyes. You are way too good for this world and one of these days you kindness will be rewarded." The smile left his face and he looked at her more seriously. "How are you feeling Mon?"
"Actually, I'm feeling quite good. I slept like a rose."
"That's what I'd say. You were out all afternoon. I guess you were pretty tired."
Monica nodded. "Yeah, I was. I barely slept last night. I kept thinking about what happened and what could have happened."
John paused. "And what are you thinking now?"
"That I was very lucky and I have to stop thinking about what could have happened. I mean if I don't stop doing that, I'll never be able to get on with my life." She smiled at him when he took her hand in his and intertwined their fingers. "Life's too short to think about the could have been."
"That's true. And that's why I have a nice evening planned for you."
Monica looked up at him, surprised. "What do you have in mind John?"
"You just wait and see. I've got us a nice movie and some popcorn." Monica opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by John. "And yes Monica, I remember that you like it sweet. So no salt, but sugar."
"What else do you have planned?"
John held his finger in the air. "That's a surprise. Now, do you want something to drink?"
"Water would be nice. But I can get it myself."
"Just don't you worry about anything." John was leaning forward to get up from the couch, but Monica held him back with a hand on his chest.
"I'll get it, John."
John took her arm and held her back. "Just admit that you wanna go peaking into the kitchen to see what the surprise is."
Monica grinned. "I think I'm busted."
John got up from the couch and looked down at her, his blue eyes sparkling. "You certainly are."
"That's what you get when your partner can read you like a book."
"Yeah, but you are a very nice book Mon. Highly enjoyable from cover to cover." Monica blushed at his sudden outburst of honesty and she felt her heartbeat speeding up in her chest. She watched John make his way to the kitchen to return a minute later with two glasses of water. He sat down next to her and handed her glass.
"Thanks." She nipped from her drink and looked at him sideways. "What have you been up to this afternoon?"
John took a gulp from his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well, I've been catching up on some things I taped but didn't have the time to watch until now."
Monica rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you watched the tapes that you found in Mulder's desk that aren't his."
"Of course not. What I watched was far more educational."
Monica held her hands up in defence. "Hey, no one said Mulder's tapes weren't educational. Maybe you could have learned a thing or two."
"Yeah right. I caught up on some old series I used to watch. They made a couple of new movies and episodes and I found them highly enjoyable." A smile formed around Monica's mouth. "What?"
"Nothing John, it's just that I find it hard to believe that we both think Rick Hunter is the perfect cop."
John gazed at her with an open mouth. "How did you?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I just knew. Been watching that show myself for ages. And you are right, it's too bad that it got cancelled again."
John mumbled. "What I'd like to know is how you say what I wanna say even before I say it."
Monica shook her head. "Can you say that again, John?"
He took a deep breath and let out a puff of air. "How do you say what I say and.." He shook his head. "Okay, I give up. But you know what I wanted to ask you."
"Yeah I do."
"Why do you always make my life so complicated?"
"Because, my dear John, I find it highly enjoyable to make you feel confused." She grinned at him and he gave her a warm smile back.
They both put their glasses on the table at the same time and leaned back against the couch, John shyly putting his arm around Monica's shoulder. She leaned back against his arm and smiled at him. "So tell me John, why did you watch Hunter in the first place? Was it because of McCall?"
John shook his head in denial. "No. I just thought that Hunter was such a cool cop and it seemed like he could get away with anything. Sure, I'm not blind, I noticed that McCall was cute, but that was not the main reason for watching that show. I saw the pilot and noticed that strong bond they had between them and I got curious. I wanted to know what would happen between them and before I realised it, I started watching. And before I knew it, I had all the episodes on tape."
Monica opened her eyes wide. "You mean you have the entire series on tape?" John nodded. "How come you never told me about it?"
"Because you never asked?" John offered. "Tell me why you watched that show. You must have been pretty young when it first aired."
"Yeah, I was young. But I have always been a tomboy and I thought Hunter was so cool. Of course as a kid, I had the hots for him. I pictured myself as his partner."
"Was that your reason for joining the Bureau?"
"Of course not, but I always hoped I would have a partner like Hunter one day. I guess that dream came true."
John smiled. "Do you really mean that?"
"Of course I do. You're gentle, caring, protective and you are great to work with. Who would want a partner like Rick Hunter when you can have John Doggett." Monica smiled shyly at him and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. "I'm glad you are my partner John and I wouldn't want it any other way."
John gave her a smile and took her hand in his. He placed a sweet kiss on the palm of her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "And who would want McCall as partner when I have you sitting next to me? I could easily return the compliment Mon. I'm glad you came to work on the x-files with me. Besides, who else would want to work with a lunatic like me? I'm glad you came to DC or else I would have been a very lonely man."
Monica looked up at him with watery eyes. "I feel better already John. It helped to talk about it and I'm glad you listened to me."
"I wouldn't have done it for anyone else."
Monica took John's shirt between her fingers and looked up at him, a small smile crossing her features. "It seems I soaked your shirt."
John looked down at his shirt and smiled at her. "That okay Mon." He got up and held out his hand for her to take. She took it and he helped her to her feet. She gave him a smile, before following him to the kitchen. He opened the fridge and peered inside. Behind him, Monica was almost grinning. "Well, there's not much eatable in there. How about ordering something?"
"I'm not really hungry John, but don't let that stop you."
John gave her a worried look. "You gotta eat, Mon. You need your strength."
"I know John, but I feel like throwing up when I think about food."
"I don't think food will get that feeling away, Mon."
"But still..."
John put his hands on Monica's shoulders and looked her deeply in the eyes. She sighed and turned her head away. She was staring at the floor and felt John's finger under her chin. He gently lifted her head and saw tears threatening to fall. Without saying a word he pulled her in his arms and held her tightly. She put her arms around his waist and clutched to him for dear life. They stayed like that for several minutes, before John pulled away and laid his hand on Monica's cheek. "I'm worried about you Mon. I feel like I should do more for you. I want to help you, but I don't know how."
"John, don't..."
"Monica, it was my fault. I should have been there for you. If I had come in like I should have, none of this would have happened."
"John..."
"No Monica!"
John was starting to yell at Monica and tears were trickling down his face. Guilt was getting the best of him. He turned around and kicked against the nearest table. A glass fell on the floor and John was getting madder. He cleaned his kitchen table with a swipe from his arm, knifes and more glasses falling on the floor. Monica stood leaning against the wall, looking at John with a scared face; John was loosing it. He punched his arms through his kitchen window breaking it into a million pieces, blood slowly dripping from his fist. Monica ran to the living room and sat down on the floor against the wall. She pulled her knees against her chest and started crying. John immediately followed her, sat down against the wall next to her and pulled her to him. He rocked her against him, both of them crying.
"I'm sorry Monica. I didn't mean for this to happen. I wish I could turn back the clock and undo everything that happened to you. I wish I could take some of your pain away. I am so angry and I don't know how to get rid of that anger. I just don't know it anymore Mon. I wanna kill that bastard, I wanna rip his heart out, I wanna..." His voice turned into a whisper. "I guess I want a lot of things."
John kept on crying and his tears fell on Monica's hair. She was sobbing into his chest and they cried into each other for a while, hoping to find a little release. Monica was the first to pull away and she looked at John. She had never seen him cry like that before, not even when Luke was found dead. His eyes were red and puffed and a lonely tear made its way over his cheek, falling down on his shoulder. He looked at her and laid his head on his knees. Monica put her head on John's back and encircled his waist. John turned into her embrace and pulled her into his lap. He held her tightly and murmured tender words into her hair. After a while, they got up and John took both of Monica's hands in his. "Mon, I dunno what to say anymore."
"You don't have to say anything, John."
"I shouldn't have taken my anger out on you. It's not your fault. It's entirely mine." Guilt was getting the better of him over and over again. He tried to fight that feeling, but he just couldn't. In his eyes he was right; what had happened to Monica was his fault.
Monica sighed. "John, when will you finally understand that none of this is your fault?"
"It is..."
Monica raised her voice. "Just don't dare to say it, John!"
"Monica!"
Monica's eyes spat fire. "John! Why don't you just shut up!" She gave him an angry looked and stomped off. She opened the door to the backyard and threw it shut. She plopped down on the bench in the back of John's garden and stared in front of her. Her eyes were clouded with unshed tears.
Inside, John was throwing angry punches at his punching ball in his basement. He tried to cool down before going after Monica, but it didn't help. He was so angry with himself. And instead of helping her, he was taking in his anger out on her, because she didn't want him to feel guilty. Maybe it was because of the fact that he couldn't really help her. He blamed himself and Monica refused to blame him. And he hated her for that. He realised he couldn't do that to her. She needed him as much as he needed her. It was as simple as that. And as weird as it may have sounded, John needed Monica at least as much as Monica needed him. She was the victim and he still needed her for comfort. It was complicated, yet it was so simple. John knew very well that he was being selfish. He needed to talk to Monica, because if he kept acting like that he would not only lose himself, but Monica too.
He walked outside and saw Monica on the bench in the back of his yard. She was staring in front of her, probably watching the beautiful view John had from his yard. He walked behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, softly massaging them. She looked up at him with tear-clouded eyes. She got up and walked away. John let out a sigh; he had really hurt her.
Monica was now leaning against a tree and tears had found their way down. John walked up behind her and encircled her waist. She tried to pull away, but he held her tightly. The harder Monica fought to get away from him, the harder he held her. She finally gave up the fight and turned around into him embrace, her arms going around his neck. He gently rocked her and Monica cried with all the tears she had left. He whispered soothing words and tenderly kissed her forehead. "I'm sorry Mon." John looked down. "I didn't mean to get mad at you. I'm mad at myself and I took it out on you. I shouldn't have done that. I just want to be there for you. That's all I really want. And if you need me Mon, I'm here for you. Whatever happens, whatever it takes." He raised his eyes and looked her in the eyes, his voice barely above a whisper. "Do ya think you could forgive this fool?"
Monica softly started sobbing again, the impact of his words finding their way into her fragile heart. "Of course I can forgive you John. I need you, more than ever before." Tears followed sobs and soon she was crying again.
"Shhh, it's okay Mon. I'll help you through this, I promise. You won't be alone. You'll never be alone again." John hugged her tightly, took her hand in his and together the walked back to the house. They sat down on the couch and John looked at Monica, another worried look on his face.
"I'm okay John. I'm already feeling much better. I guess our little talk really helped. Thank you."
A small smile appeared around the corner of John's lips. "I'm glad you're feeling better, Mon. I'll always be here for you."
Monica gave him a thankful smile. "I know John. And believe me, I'm very grateful."
John shrugged his shoulder. "Sure. Wanna do some lunch? Do you think you could make me feel better and eat a little?"
Monica shook her head. "I'm not really hungry John, but I'll try to eat something."
John smiled and for the first time since the whole ordeal happened, the smile reached his eyes. "That's my girl." He got up from the couch and took a phone book out of his cabinet. After selecting a Chinese restaurant he dialled up and ordered his food. He was told they would be there in about half an hour. John turned to Monica, her eyes closing. He gently smiled at her and put his hand on her hair. "They'll be here in half an hour."
Monica nodded. "Do you think I can take a shower in the meantime?"
"Do you think that's wise? I mean, are you allowed to shower with your stitches?"
"They said I would be fine if I was being careful."
"Okay then. There are some clean towels in the cabinet and I might have some strawberry smelling shampoo somewhere in the back of the closet under my sink."
Monica stared at him, her eyes wide. "Strawberry John? I didn't picture you as a strawberry kind of guy."
"I'm not." John could see in her eyes that she did clearly not believe him. "I'm really not Mon. That shampoo just made part of a stupid bet."
Monica rolled her eyes. "That must have been some bet."
John giggled. "You'd better believe it." Monica looked at him expectantly, but he shook his head. "I'm not gonna tell you, Mon."
"Come on John, you can't stop now. If you say A, you have to say B."
He kept shaking his head. "Nice try Mon, but I'm still not telling you."
"Spoilsport."
"I may be a spoilsport, but I still think a guy's gotta have his secrets."
"Right John." Monica turned around and made her way to the stairs.
John called her back. "Do you need a hand Mon?"
"In your dreams John Doggett."
John narrowed his eyes. "To get upstairs?"
"Thanks, I'll be fine John." She slowly walked up the stairs, John looking at her until she had disappeared from his view. Monica thought a shower would do her good. She felt dirty. She felt like taking a shower every minute of the day. Although being tired, she wanted to scrub her entire body for an hour. She took some clean underwear out of her bag and found a clean towel in his cabinet. She opened the closet under the sink and in the back she found a bottle of strawberry shampoo. Next to it, she noticed a bottle of liquid peach soap. It wasn't the brand she was used too, but it would do. She undressed, threw her still clean clothes in a corner, not really caring were they landed and enjoyed the stream of warm water spreading over her body.
Downstairs John had turned the television on and was channel surfing. If Monica would see him, she would probably point out that it was a typical male thing to do. And maybe it was, but John didn't care. He wanted to find a NASCAR race, but when he found none, he settled for a game of hockey instead. The Los Angeles Kings were playing a friendly game against some Russian team. LA was leading by 2-1 and John sank down in his couch, trying to enjoy the game and taking his mind off things. It was a very good game and he got caught up in the action, yelling at the referee. He almost jumped from the couch when the doorbell rang. He opened it, to find a young Chinese boy standing on the other side. "Your order, Sir. That'll be $16.90 please."
John handed him a twenty-dollar bill. "Keep the change."
"Thank you Sir. Enjoy lunch."
The boy turned around and left, John closing the door behind him. He put the food on the table and called Monica. She didn't answer and he tried calling her again; still no answer. She was probably still in the shower and John walked up the stairs. He knocked on the door and could hear the water running. He tried calling for Monica, but she didn't answer. He opened the door a little and heard soft sobs over the water splashing down. He found her in the corner of the shower, huddled together. Her knees were pulled to her chest and she was violently shaking. He turned the now cold water off, picked her up and wrapped her in the towel. She was shaking in his arms and he tried rubbing her back and arms to warm her up. Her legs gave in and she fell in his arms. He quickly dried her off, carefully avoiding the stitches, some of which had re opened. He put her clothes on, carried her to the bedroom and put her under the covers. He picked up the phone and dialled Scully's number.
After a couple of rings an out-of-breath Mulder picked up. "Mulder."
"Mulder, it's John Doggett. I was looking for Dana."
"She's here. I just came back from a run and she's putting William to bed. I guess she didn't hear the phone."
"Can you get here please? It's pretty urgent. It's about Monica."
Mulder paused on the other side of the phone. "Is she okay?"
John swallowed hard. "I dunno."
"I'll get Scully." John heard the receiver being put down and he could hear Mulder walking around. He heard voices and hurried footsteps. It took her a few seconds to answer.
"John, what's wrong?"
"I dunno. Do you think you could come over? I found Monica in the corner of the shower crying and shaking. Some of her stitches have re opened. She's still shaking and I dunno what to do. I can't get her to react."
"She may be in late shock John. I'm on my way over. I'll be there soon. Try to keep her warm until I get there."
"Thank you." John turned to Monica, only to find her violently shaking. Her eyes were open and she was staring at the opposite wall. John crawled in bed next to her and spooned her back against his front. She struggled a little, but soon she gave up. She felt cold, really cold. John hoped that sharing body heat would help raise her temperature. After a few minutes her shakes were subsiding and she was calming down. John was whispering soothing words into her hair. He moved a little so he could see her eyes and they were closing. It didn't take too long before he heard his front door open and Scully coming up the stairs. "I'm in here Dana."
Scully appeared in the door, a worried look on her face. "How is she?"
John gave her a weak smile. "I think she's falling asleep. Her shaking has subsided and she's much calmer than she was." John got up from the bed and made room for Scully. He looked at her. "Do you think she'll be okay?"
Scully nodded. "She'll be fine John. It's not uncommon for victims to suffer from late shock."
John lowered his shoulders, relieve evident in his features. "I'm glad. I'll leave you to it. I'll be outside if you need me."
Scully smiled. "Thank you for taking such good care of her."
"I'm glad she trusts me enough to do so."
Scully's eyes widened. "Have you ever doubted that, John? She trusts you with her life, you should know that."
John lowered his gaze to the floor. "I realised that. But how could I ever doubt it?"
"John," Scully paused before continuing, "Every partnership goes through doubts. I guess you guys are beyond that stage now."
John left the room and closed the door, leaving Scully in privacy to take care of Monica. A few minutes later she emerged. "John, she's asking for you."
John entered the room and found a crying Monica on the bed. "What happened?"
"Not much. I gave her a shot and she's delusional, which is normal. She thought you had left her. Just try to calm her down, will you? She's gonna sleep it out and she should be fine once she's awake."
John nodded in understanding. "How are her wounds?"
"Nothing too bad John. I put an antibiotic ointment on them and they'll heal fast." She turned around and left the room, pausing in the door. "Take good care of her, John."
"I will, don't worry." John crawled in bed next to Monica and took her in his arms. She clutched to him.
Scully looked at them, tears forming in the corner of her eyes. "I know you'll take good care of her." She was sad about what had happened to Monica, but she was also glad that she had found someone to talk too, someone who would take care of her unconditionally. Victims of rapes or near-rapes always needed help from someone close to them, someone they trusted blindly. Scully knew there was a strong bond between them, but she never realised it was that strong. And she doubted they realised it either. "John?"
He turned his head to her; Monica still clutched to him. "Something the matter?"
"Has she eaten yet?"
John shook his head. "No, she refuses to eat."
"She'll feel much better when she wakes up, but make sure you get her to eat something. Make sure she eats enough in the next few days."
"I will."
Scully smiled sadly and left them. John heard the front door close and he lay down next to Monica. Instinctively she put her arms around his neck and crawled closer to him, if that was even possible.
About five minutes later Monica's breathing had calmed and her eyes were closed. She was in a deep sleep and John got up from the bed, trying not to wake her. She stirred a little when he pulled away from her, her eyes fluttered open for a split second, but she closed them again straight away. John made his way down the stairs and took the Chinese food from the kitchen table and put it in the oven. He took a couple of trays out of the cupboard, took two plates and a couple of glasses. If Monica woke up, all he had to do was heat up the food. He sat down on the sofa and flipped through Channels, settling for Tweetie. That way he wouldn't have to think too hard. Since Monica had been attacked, he had a constant headache. He got up and took a bottle of Tylenol. He swallowed two pills and sat down on the couch again.
Nearly an hour later he hears noises upstairs. He got up and found Monica walking around in the bedroom, rummaging through her bag. "What are you doing Mon?"
She looked up from her bag and pulled out her toothbrush. "I gotta clean my teeth."
John looked at her, surprise evident in his voice. "Are you sure you're okay?"
"I feel fine John. I can't remember what happened after I got in the shower, but I feel fine. What happened?"
John took a step closer to her, helping her to her feet. "I found you out cold in the corner of the shower. You were shaking and crying. You were not responding so I called Scully. Apparently you were in a late shock, but she gave you something and it seems to have worked. You can't remember anything?"
Monica shook her head in denial. "No. It's like I fell in some kind of black hole."
"Must be an x-file," John joked. Monica had to smile at this, but John still missed the spark in her big brown eyes. "I'm glad you're better though. You were in pretty bad shape."
Monica held her toothbrush in the air. "Do you mind John?"
"Sure, go ahead. But you might wanna wait till after lunch. Do you think you can eat?"
"Actually I'm kind of hungry, but..." She paused and scratched her chin, "I still wanna clean my teeth first. I've got something between them."
"Okay. I'll just go down and put lunch in the oven. Wanna join me when you're finished?"
Monica smiled gratefully. "Thank you John."
John made his way to the oven and put the food in. Not five minutes later Monica emerged. "What are we having for lunch?"
"Well, I ordered some fried rice with chicken and Chinese mushrooms with beef. What do you want?"
Monica smiled shyly. "I actually like them both. "
"How about sharing then?"
"That's what I call a great idea." John put his finger in the air and waved his arm.
"I have one of those every couple of years. "Monica giggled, her laugh going straight to John's heart. He took her hand and softly caressed her palm with his thumb. "It's great to see you smile again."
She stood on her tiptoes and tenderly kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you for everything John." He gave her a bright smile, his eyes shining. They looked at each other for a split second before John pulled her in his arms for a tight hug. They soon pulled apart, John laughing. Monica broke the contact and walked past him and made her way to the kitchen, kneeling down next to the oven. John gave her a questioning look.
"What are you doing?"
"Checking up on the food."
John took her by the arm and walked her to the living room, where he gently pushed her down in the couch. "Just relax Mon and let me take care of everything."
Monica sank down in the couch and watched John walk away to the kitchen. Since he had his back to her, he missed the loving look that crossed her features. Despite her horrible ordeal, her feelings for John were still there. They just were buried in the back of her heart for the moment. But sooner or later she knew she would need him in her life and not just as a partner, a colleague or a friend. But before she could let anything happen between them, they both had some healing to do.
John appeared with a tray not five minutes later and put it down in her lap. Monica smiled at the diet coke he had taken for her to drink. "So you do remember?"
John rolled his eyes. "Of course I remember. How could I forget the lecture you gave me about why you drink diet coke and not regular coke?"
"Was I that bad?"
John shook his head. "No, you were not that bad. Let's just say that I find you explanations," John paused, "memorable." He went back to the kitchen and came out with a second tray, sitting down on the couch next to Monica.
Monica took a spoonful of the Chinese mushrooms and they turned out to be delicious. "This is quite good."
John shook his head in approval. "Best Chinese restaurant in the city."
"I can see why."
Dinner was spent in a very comfortable silence. Monica was enjoying lunch, but she found herself quickly stuffed. She took a sip from her coke and put her tray on the coffee table. John looked at her. "You not hungry anymore?"
"I'm full John."
John eyed her tray. "You have barely eaten anything."
"John, I'm sure my appetite will return to normal soon."
"Mon, you should try to eat some more." John took a spoonful of his plate and looked at her. "Open you mouth Monica."
Monica eyed him suspiciously. "You going to feed me, John?"
John nodded. "If I have too."
"I'm fine John. I don't think I can eat more."
John looked at her with puppy dog eyes. "Just a little more." Monica shook her head. "Please?" She still kept her mouth shut. "Do it for me?" His voice was barely above a whisper, but Monica had heard him. She opened her mouth and a smiling John put the fork in her mouth. He took a couple more spoonfuls and was happy to see that Monica managed to eat a little more.
"A girl could get used to this." John rolled his eyes and gave Monica a 10000-WATT smile. He put his hand on her cheek.
"I would feed you every day if you asked me too." Monica blinked her eyes a couple of times and looked straight back at John, moisture appearing in the corner of her eyes.
Before the tears had a chance to fall down, John wiped them away with his thumb. "Don't cry Monica."
Monica sniffed and looked up at him with watery eyes. "How am I supposed not to cry when you say such nice things?"
John's lips turned into a grin. "I dunno. How the heck am I supposed to know that the truth is gonna make you cry?"
"Did you mean what you said John?"
"Of course I meant it. If I had to, I would feed you every day."
"Thank you John." Monica lowered her head to the floor and felt John's finger under her chin, only to look straight into deep blue eyes.
"I meant it Monica."
Monica nodded in understanding. "I know you did John and I appreciate it." Monica held her hand in front of her mouth and yawned. "Sorry."
John motioned in the direction of the stairs with a knick of his head. "Why don't you take a nap?"
"That might be a good idea."
John got up from the couch and held his hand out to Monica. She eagerly took it and he smiled. "Come on, I don't want you to fall asleep in the middle of the stairs."
"I'll be fine, John. But it's very nice of you to walk me upstairs."
"I wouldn't have it any other way." They made their way to John's spare room. Monica lay down on the bed; John pulled the covers up and tenderly kissed her on the forehead. "Have sweet dreams Mon." He smiled at her before he turned on his heels and left the room.
Once John was gone, Monica let out a sigh she had been holding. She realised that John Doggett was more than just a handful. They were growing much closer and she would never have thought it was possible. They were already close before she was attacked, but now John was showing her another side of him and if she was honest, she liked that side. He was tender, caring and protective. A small smile formed around Monica's lips. Her eyes started closing and it didn't take too long before she fell asleep.
Downstairs, John was cleaning up from lunch and threw the leftovers in the bin. He took his keys and hurried out of his house. He needed to do some grocery shopping and he would be back before Monica woke up. The store was only a five-minute drive from his house and at this time of the day it wouldn't be crowded. John pulled his car from the driveway and left for the shop.
Not even thirty minutes later he opened the door to his house, two bags in his hand. It was still quiet in his house, meaning that Monica was probably was still asleep. He opened his fridge and his cupboard and put the food away. Tonight he would make a hot turkey and cheese sandwich with mustard on top. He knew Monica loved them and that was reason enough for him to make them. He went to his living room, put one of his tapes in the video and plopped down on the couch. He put his feet lazily on the coffee table and leaned back against the couch, his arms behind his head. John smiled once the theme to Hunter started playing. He had been a fan of the show since the early years and he had taped the film they had shown recently. He had been so busy that he never had to chance to watch it. He relaxed and smiled even more at some sarcastic remark Hunter made. He had always liked that guy. Too bad cops like that were rare.
It was almost seven when John pulled the tape of the latest Hunter episode out of his VCR. He had spent the better part of the afternoon catching up on his favourite series. He let out a sigh and plopped down on the couch again, his feet propped on the coffee table and the remote in his left hand. After some serious Channel surfing he settled for the news on CNN. He was listening to some idiotic report about the New York Stock Exchange and mumbled something to himself.
"Didn't your mom teach you that talking to yourself is the beginning of the end?" He looked up to find Monica standing at the bottom of the stairs, a smile playing around the corner of her mouth.
"And didn't your mom teach you that it is impolite to spy on people," John retorted, trying to hide a grin but failing miserably.
"At least my mom taught me good manners." Monica waved her arm at his feet lying comfortably on the coffee table. "Is that the usual way you watch TV?"
John shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "You forgot the popcorn and the empty cans of beer standing on the table."
Monica sat down next to him and elbowed him in the ribs. "You are a pig, John Doggett."
He raised his eyebrows at her. "But you gotta admit that I'm a cute pig."
Monica rolled her eyes and grinned. "Aren't all pigs cute? They are one of my favourite animals. That's why I like you."
"Well thank you very much for the compliment Ms. Reyes. You are way too good for this world and one of these days you kindness will be rewarded." The smile left his face and he looked at her more seriously. "How are you feeling Mon?"
"Actually, I'm feeling quite good. I slept like a rose."
"That's what I'd say. You were out all afternoon. I guess you were pretty tired."
Monica nodded. "Yeah, I was. I barely slept last night. I kept thinking about what happened and what could have happened."
John paused. "And what are you thinking now?"
"That I was very lucky and I have to stop thinking about what could have happened. I mean if I don't stop doing that, I'll never be able to get on with my life." She smiled at him when he took her hand in his and intertwined their fingers. "Life's too short to think about the could have been."
"That's true. And that's why I have a nice evening planned for you."
Monica looked up at him, surprised. "What do you have in mind John?"
"You just wait and see. I've got us a nice movie and some popcorn." Monica opened her mouth to say something but was interrupted by John. "And yes Monica, I remember that you like it sweet. So no salt, but sugar."
"What else do you have planned?"
John held his finger in the air. "That's a surprise. Now, do you want something to drink?"
"Water would be nice. But I can get it myself."
"Just don't you worry about anything." John was leaning forward to get up from the couch, but Monica held him back with a hand on his chest.
"I'll get it, John."
John took her arm and held her back. "Just admit that you wanna go peaking into the kitchen to see what the surprise is."
Monica grinned. "I think I'm busted."
John got up from the couch and looked down at her, his blue eyes sparkling. "You certainly are."
"That's what you get when your partner can read you like a book."
"Yeah, but you are a very nice book Mon. Highly enjoyable from cover to cover." Monica blushed at his sudden outburst of honesty and she felt her heartbeat speeding up in her chest. She watched John make his way to the kitchen to return a minute later with two glasses of water. He sat down next to her and handed her glass.
"Thanks." She nipped from her drink and looked at him sideways. "What have you been up to this afternoon?"
John took a gulp from his glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "Well, I've been catching up on some things I taped but didn't have the time to watch until now."
Monica rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me you watched the tapes that you found in Mulder's desk that aren't his."
"Of course not. What I watched was far more educational."
Monica held her hands up in defence. "Hey, no one said Mulder's tapes weren't educational. Maybe you could have learned a thing or two."
"Yeah right. I caught up on some old series I used to watch. They made a couple of new movies and episodes and I found them highly enjoyable." A smile formed around Monica's mouth. "What?"
"Nothing John, it's just that I find it hard to believe that we both think Rick Hunter is the perfect cop."
John gazed at her with an open mouth. "How did you?"
She shrugged her shoulders. "I just knew. Been watching that show myself for ages. And you are right, it's too bad that it got cancelled again."
John mumbled. "What I'd like to know is how you say what I wanna say even before I say it."
Monica shook her head. "Can you say that again, John?"
He took a deep breath and let out a puff of air. "How do you say what I say and.." He shook his head. "Okay, I give up. But you know what I wanted to ask you."
"Yeah I do."
"Why do you always make my life so complicated?"
"Because, my dear John, I find it highly enjoyable to make you feel confused." She grinned at him and he gave her a warm smile back.
They both put their glasses on the table at the same time and leaned back against the couch, John shyly putting his arm around Monica's shoulder. She leaned back against his arm and smiled at him. "So tell me John, why did you watch Hunter in the first place? Was it because of McCall?"
John shook his head in denial. "No. I just thought that Hunter was such a cool cop and it seemed like he could get away with anything. Sure, I'm not blind, I noticed that McCall was cute, but that was not the main reason for watching that show. I saw the pilot and noticed that strong bond they had between them and I got curious. I wanted to know what would happen between them and before I realised it, I started watching. And before I knew it, I had all the episodes on tape."
Monica opened her eyes wide. "You mean you have the entire series on tape?" John nodded. "How come you never told me about it?"
"Because you never asked?" John offered. "Tell me why you watched that show. You must have been pretty young when it first aired."
"Yeah, I was young. But I have always been a tomboy and I thought Hunter was so cool. Of course as a kid, I had the hots for him. I pictured myself as his partner."
"Was that your reason for joining the Bureau?"
"Of course not, but I always hoped I would have a partner like Hunter one day. I guess that dream came true."
John smiled. "Do you really mean that?"
"Of course I do. You're gentle, caring, protective and you are great to work with. Who would want a partner like Rick Hunter when you can have John Doggett." Monica smiled shyly at him and placed a tender kiss on his cheek. "I'm glad you are my partner John and I wouldn't want it any other way."
John gave her a smile and took her hand in his. He placed a sweet kiss on the palm of her hand and laced his fingers through hers. "And who would want McCall as partner when I have you sitting next to me? I could easily return the compliment Mon. I'm glad you came to work on the x-files with me. Besides, who else would want to work with a lunatic like me? I'm glad you came to DC or else I would have been a very lonely man."
