Note To Readers: I added a stint about a childhood memory of Monica's to
add to the sexual parts of the story (No, they don't have sex). I just made
her story up, in case anyone is wondering or if anyone is outraged like,
'how dare you add that, it never happened!' I just wanted to make it blend
in with the story.*Ahem* Now back to the story itself.
Chapter 5 - Monica's Childhood Memory
John Doggett's House. 10:34 PM. John awoke to the TV being cut off by static. The television was out. He shut it off and decided to head up to bed. He was making his way up when he suddenly held onto the banner of the stairway. ("You're nothing, but a big bad wolf in disguise Agent Doggett.") He paused for a second as images from his dream entered his mind. ("Aaaaaaaawwwwwwwwoooooo")
John sat down on the third step, as more images flashed in his mind from his dream. ("C'mere my pretty, so that I may eat you up." "You said that you wanted to eat me up. Well then, if you do that, then who would be here to rub your stomach when you weren't feeling good?") John smiled at this. His dream was continuing on without any interruption, except for when he woke up. Weird, he thought. He shook his head, fascinated by such a dream. He got up to his feet and walked into his bedroom and closed the door. He threw his tie down and unbuttoned his shirt, changing into his pajamas. He sat down on the bed and decided to go back to sleep and see if he could finish the dream before he saw Monica in the morning.
John Doggett's House. 10:55 PM. John walked into his bedroom where Monica laid on his bed. She growled. "Wanna play?" she asked sexually. Her statement shocked John, but yet he was also aroused. "I thought you just wanted to cuddle," he asked seriously. Monica smiled. "That too...but maybe we could do something else tonight."
"Well I thought you wanted to take things slow, Mon."
Monica scoffed. "I do...but I thought you were attracted to me...?"
John walked up to her and sat down next to her. "Monica, I am very attracted to you." He brushed back a lock of her brown hair that had fallen into her face. His blue eyes showing so much care and love. "But I don't want to do something that will make you feel uncomfortable. We can always do this later on when we both feel we should."
Tears slowly crept up in Monica's eyes. She didn't realize it until then, but she was about to cry. "I don't understand..." she said. John grabbed her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "What don't you understand?" he asked subtly. "I want to take things slow, but I still feel as if I need to do this for you..."
John laughed. "Don't laugh, John," she replied. John instantly stopped. "Oh Mon. You don't need to do anything for me...except love me, maybe. I don't expect anything more or anything less." Monica stood up. "I may be a man, Mon. But I do have more than sexual desires..."
"Then take me...take me here...tonight..."
John sighed, standing up. "Mon, I know this isn't what you want," he replied, putting his hand on her shoulder, but she brushed it off. "Damnet, Mon, listen to me. Let's just cuddle. That's good enough isn't it?" She spun around, tears escaping her eyes. "It isn't. If we can't make love, then how can we ever see ourselves in the future? In a relationship?"
"You want to have sex? Right now? Would that make you feel better, Mon?" John barked this only made Monica cry louder. John pulled off his shirt, and grabbed at Monica and kissed her. His tongue sweeping over her lips after the kiss. He held her arms with his hands. "Then let's have sex." Monica stared into his eyes. He sighed deeply; looking into her water filled eyes and jumped into the bed. He unzipped his pants and pulled them off. Waiting for her. "C'mon, Mon. Right now. You and I."
"You make it sound like a game," Monica said in a soft voice, that was barely audible, but John heard her. "Well it is, isn't it?" he asked. "You don't show any sexual desire until tonight and now you don't want to make love?"
"Make love? Is that what you call it? Before it was just sex...is that what you would have called it after as well?"
John sighed even deeper this time, and slammed his fist against his pillow, startling Monica. "Goddamn it Monica. Everything was fine about five minutes ago - now you've just suddenly snapped. What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled. "I don't know," she cried. "I don't know." John watched her as she held herself, crying even louder now. He rushed up to her and put his arms around her. "Shhh.Mon, it's okay. It's okay."
For a second she believed him, but then she pushed him away. "No, this isn't right," she said. "What? What isn't right?"
"Just stay away from me," Monica yelled out. She ran downstairs, tripping on the last step. She fell face first on the floor, her knee cut open badly. "Monica!" John called out. He ran down the steps and jumped over her, checking her leg. "Oh shit, Mon," he said, getting up and grabbing some bandages and an ointment. He washed off her leg as she cried incoherently and fixed her kneecap. Before either one could say anything, Monica wrapped her arms around John. "Monica," he said, her arms still around his neck. "There's something you're not telling me," he whispered.
Monica pulled away. She began to quiet down. "I...I was raped."
John's eyes widened as he got up and handed her a Kleenex and sat back down next to her as she cried more softly. "You were what?"
Monica looked up at John, her eyes watery. "I was raped."
"When?"
"A long time ago," she replied. "I was either 14 or 15 when it happened. My father was an abusive drunk. You remember the year that he went to prison for raping all those women in Idaho. He raped me as well...but I never told anybody." John sat there, quiet for several minutes, as Monica cried into her Kleenex. "I've only told you. I never even...I never even told my Mother."
She looked up at him. "I don't know why I did that John. I just thought back when he said, that men only want one thing from women. I thought if I gave you that, I'd be yours..."
She cried again and John hated to see her cry. "C'mere," he said, pulling her in for a hug. She laid back against him and cried into his bare chest, holding onto his arms as he rocked her back and forth. "Your father was wrong, Mon," John said. Monica's cries subsided. "Not all men want just one thing from women, but there are a lot that do. You never made love to me, and I hope we can someday, but until then I'm already yours...no matter what."
Monica cried louder again. "But what...if you're just saying that? What if ten years from now...you'll think different?"
"I would never think that. Don't be afraid, Monica. Don't be afraid of what we have."
She looked up at him as he looked straight ahead. "What do we have?" she asked, he looked down at her. "Hidden Love. True love. We may not see it clearly now, but we're getting there." "So, I shouldn't feel pressured...to...you know?"
John chuckled. "No. Never. I know you may not believe it, but like I've said before, I may be a man, but I look for other things, not just that..." Monica smiled, burying her face in the warmth of his chest. "Thank you, John." "C'mon, let's go upstairs," he said, helping her up. "You definitely need some clothes on," Monica laughed. "Yeah, yeah."
Monica started to head upstairs, but John pulled her back and lifted her up, carrying her up the stairs as she laughed and kicked. Telling him to put her down. "Awwwwwwwwooooooo," he growled. Monica giggled.
John changed put on a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt and Monica remained in her clothes. She combed out her hair and they both brushed their teeth and went to bed. John laid up against the wall and he pulled Monica in for a tight embrace. She leaned back and kissed his neck as he gently brushed back her silky brown hair. "We already make a great couple," he said. "Yeah, we already live like we're married," Monica joked. "Could be a good thing."
"I guess so," Monica smiled. She turned around so she'd face John. "Hi," she said. "Hey." They both looked into one another's eyes and then tenderly kissed. "I love you John," Monica whispered. She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. John, still playing with her hair, smiled shyly. "I love you too, Mon."
The next day Monica woke up to find John gone. She looked in the bathroom, but he wasn't there. She slowly made her way downstairs and saw him making breakfast. "Your turn today, I see," she remarked, watching him make pancakes. "Sure is," he said. His New York accent, never seemed to fade. Monica came up from behind him and put her hands around his waist. "Pancakes, one of my specialties."
"Hmmm. Sounds good."
John smiled, his hands touching hers. "Get ready. I'm almost done," he said. "Okay," she said, kissing his back and walking off. John watched her leave and then flipped the pancakes over.
Monica went upstairs and took a hot shower to wake her up. She put on a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt and combed her hair. She rushed downstairs, as John was looking at the calendar. "Mon," he asked, looking at her, as she walked over by the table and sat down. "What John?" she asked, still yawning. "What day is it?"
"Sunday, why?"
John turned around. "I thought yesterday was Sunday."
Monica shook her head. "No, yesterday was Saturday." John looked back at the calendar. He could have sworn yesterday was Sunday. "Pancakes ready?" Monica asked. John nodded, still looking at the calendar. He turned away from it and put two pancakes on a paper plate and handed it to her along with the syrup. "Thank you," she said. John didn't say anything; he looked back at the calendar. "What's up with you?" Monica asked, taking a bite of her breakfast. Silence. John was still staring at the calendar. "Hey? Earth to John!" John turned around. "What? Oh how are the pancakes?"
"Great. Would you like to join me?"
"Oh of course. Sorry," he said sitting down. He put three pancakes on a paper plate and ate slowly. "Lost your appetite?" Monica joked. He looked up. "Heh. I guess I'm just not feeling well."
"Are you getting sick?" Monica asked. John shook his head. "I don't think so." "So," she said, changing the subject, "what do you want to do today?" she asked. "Well, maybe we could go out or something."
"Sounds fun. What should we do?" John thought for a moment. "How about we go to the movies?"
"The movies?" Monica questioned. "Oh yeah, maybe see a comedy or horror flick."
Monica nodded. "Okay, great." "We'll leave after breakfast."
"Okay," she said. John smiled and they ate the rest of their breakfast in silence, John's mind still on the calendar.
"Monica?" John asked, waiting for her to come downstairs. "I'm coming," she said. She ran downstairs and almost tripped again, but John caught her in the nick of time. "Whoa, close one..." she said. "Yeah, unlike last time," he said, pointing to her knee. "Yeah," she blushed.
John and Monica walked a few blocks away from his house to a local theater. They bought two tickets for some horror movie called, "Willard". John bought medium popcorn and two small drinks and they went inside the theater room and watched the previews. Monica leaned against John and he put his arm around her. Two hours later when the movie was over they left. "How'd you like it?" Monica asked quietly, sipping the rest of her soda. "Okay, I guess. Not really scary."
"Good acting though," Monica grinned. John paused. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. His the curves of his lips turned into a small smile."
"Nothing," Monica laughed as they walked out. "You liked that Willard character?"
"Well, you gotta admit, he was rather dashing."
"Well, so was that Katherine woman," John remarked. Monica was speechless. "John Doggett, well I'll be."
"You started it," he said with a smile. "True. Okay, let's agree that they are very talented actors, and nothing more. Agreed?"
"Agreed..." John replied. He put his arm around her waist. "You were jealous," he remarked. She nudged him playfully. "So were you." "So, what do you want to do now?" he asked her. Monica thought for a moment. "Let's go home and watch TV and just relax."
John kissed Monica's forehead. "Okay, let's go."
John unlocked the front door and Monica was the first to walk in. "Want to take a nap later on?" Monica asked. John nodded, closing and locking the door behind him. "Sure, you're just full of plans today, eh?" John asked walking up from behind Monica. He grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. A small smile appearing around the corners of his mouth. "Just a little tired, I guess," she said faintly. John stopped smiling. "You okay?" he asked, turning her around. She nodded. "I guess I just want to cuddle some more too."
"No argument there," he said, holding her in a tight embrace. Monica inhaled his scent. "Hmm, this is nice," she sighed. "No work, nothing to do, but lay around and snuggle."
John nodded. They both walked to the couch and Monica rested her head on John's lap as he brushed back her hair.
Chapter 5 - Monica's Childhood Memory
John Doggett's House. 10:34 PM. John awoke to the TV being cut off by static. The television was out. He shut it off and decided to head up to bed. He was making his way up when he suddenly held onto the banner of the stairway. ("You're nothing, but a big bad wolf in disguise Agent Doggett.") He paused for a second as images from his dream entered his mind. ("Aaaaaaaawwwwwwwwoooooo")
John sat down on the third step, as more images flashed in his mind from his dream. ("C'mere my pretty, so that I may eat you up." "You said that you wanted to eat me up. Well then, if you do that, then who would be here to rub your stomach when you weren't feeling good?") John smiled at this. His dream was continuing on without any interruption, except for when he woke up. Weird, he thought. He shook his head, fascinated by such a dream. He got up to his feet and walked into his bedroom and closed the door. He threw his tie down and unbuttoned his shirt, changing into his pajamas. He sat down on the bed and decided to go back to sleep and see if he could finish the dream before he saw Monica in the morning.
John Doggett's House. 10:55 PM. John walked into his bedroom where Monica laid on his bed. She growled. "Wanna play?" she asked sexually. Her statement shocked John, but yet he was also aroused. "I thought you just wanted to cuddle," he asked seriously. Monica smiled. "That too...but maybe we could do something else tonight."
"Well I thought you wanted to take things slow, Mon."
Monica scoffed. "I do...but I thought you were attracted to me...?"
John walked up to her and sat down next to her. "Monica, I am very attracted to you." He brushed back a lock of her brown hair that had fallen into her face. His blue eyes showing so much care and love. "But I don't want to do something that will make you feel uncomfortable. We can always do this later on when we both feel we should."
Tears slowly crept up in Monica's eyes. She didn't realize it until then, but she was about to cry. "I don't understand..." she said. John grabbed her hand and gave it a tight squeeze. "What don't you understand?" he asked subtly. "I want to take things slow, but I still feel as if I need to do this for you..."
John laughed. "Don't laugh, John," she replied. John instantly stopped. "Oh Mon. You don't need to do anything for me...except love me, maybe. I don't expect anything more or anything less." Monica stood up. "I may be a man, Mon. But I do have more than sexual desires..."
"Then take me...take me here...tonight..."
John sighed, standing up. "Mon, I know this isn't what you want," he replied, putting his hand on her shoulder, but she brushed it off. "Damnet, Mon, listen to me. Let's just cuddle. That's good enough isn't it?" She spun around, tears escaping her eyes. "It isn't. If we can't make love, then how can we ever see ourselves in the future? In a relationship?"
"You want to have sex? Right now? Would that make you feel better, Mon?" John barked this only made Monica cry louder. John pulled off his shirt, and grabbed at Monica and kissed her. His tongue sweeping over her lips after the kiss. He held her arms with his hands. "Then let's have sex." Monica stared into his eyes. He sighed deeply; looking into her water filled eyes and jumped into the bed. He unzipped his pants and pulled them off. Waiting for her. "C'mon, Mon. Right now. You and I."
"You make it sound like a game," Monica said in a soft voice, that was barely audible, but John heard her. "Well it is, isn't it?" he asked. "You don't show any sexual desire until tonight and now you don't want to make love?"
"Make love? Is that what you call it? Before it was just sex...is that what you would have called it after as well?"
John sighed even deeper this time, and slammed his fist against his pillow, startling Monica. "Goddamn it Monica. Everything was fine about five minutes ago - now you've just suddenly snapped. What the hell is wrong with you?" he yelled. "I don't know," she cried. "I don't know." John watched her as she held herself, crying even louder now. He rushed up to her and put his arms around her. "Shhh.Mon, it's okay. It's okay."
For a second she believed him, but then she pushed him away. "No, this isn't right," she said. "What? What isn't right?"
"Just stay away from me," Monica yelled out. She ran downstairs, tripping on the last step. She fell face first on the floor, her knee cut open badly. "Monica!" John called out. He ran down the steps and jumped over her, checking her leg. "Oh shit, Mon," he said, getting up and grabbing some bandages and an ointment. He washed off her leg as she cried incoherently and fixed her kneecap. Before either one could say anything, Monica wrapped her arms around John. "Monica," he said, her arms still around his neck. "There's something you're not telling me," he whispered.
Monica pulled away. She began to quiet down. "I...I was raped."
John's eyes widened as he got up and handed her a Kleenex and sat back down next to her as she cried more softly. "You were what?"
Monica looked up at John, her eyes watery. "I was raped."
"When?"
"A long time ago," she replied. "I was either 14 or 15 when it happened. My father was an abusive drunk. You remember the year that he went to prison for raping all those women in Idaho. He raped me as well...but I never told anybody." John sat there, quiet for several minutes, as Monica cried into her Kleenex. "I've only told you. I never even...I never even told my Mother."
She looked up at him. "I don't know why I did that John. I just thought back when he said, that men only want one thing from women. I thought if I gave you that, I'd be yours..."
She cried again and John hated to see her cry. "C'mere," he said, pulling her in for a hug. She laid back against him and cried into his bare chest, holding onto his arms as he rocked her back and forth. "Your father was wrong, Mon," John said. Monica's cries subsided. "Not all men want just one thing from women, but there are a lot that do. You never made love to me, and I hope we can someday, but until then I'm already yours...no matter what."
Monica cried louder again. "But what...if you're just saying that? What if ten years from now...you'll think different?"
"I would never think that. Don't be afraid, Monica. Don't be afraid of what we have."
She looked up at him as he looked straight ahead. "What do we have?" she asked, he looked down at her. "Hidden Love. True love. We may not see it clearly now, but we're getting there." "So, I shouldn't feel pressured...to...you know?"
John chuckled. "No. Never. I know you may not believe it, but like I've said before, I may be a man, but I look for other things, not just that..." Monica smiled, burying her face in the warmth of his chest. "Thank you, John." "C'mon, let's go upstairs," he said, helping her up. "You definitely need some clothes on," Monica laughed. "Yeah, yeah."
Monica started to head upstairs, but John pulled her back and lifted her up, carrying her up the stairs as she laughed and kicked. Telling him to put her down. "Awwwwwwwwooooooo," he growled. Monica giggled.
John changed put on a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt and Monica remained in her clothes. She combed out her hair and they both brushed their teeth and went to bed. John laid up against the wall and he pulled Monica in for a tight embrace. She leaned back and kissed his neck as he gently brushed back her silky brown hair. "We already make a great couple," he said. "Yeah, we already live like we're married," Monica joked. "Could be a good thing."
"I guess so," Monica smiled. She turned around so she'd face John. "Hi," she said. "Hey." They both looked into one another's eyes and then tenderly kissed. "I love you John," Monica whispered. She closed her eyes and laid her head against his chest. John, still playing with her hair, smiled shyly. "I love you too, Mon."
The next day Monica woke up to find John gone. She looked in the bathroom, but he wasn't there. She slowly made her way downstairs and saw him making breakfast. "Your turn today, I see," she remarked, watching him make pancakes. "Sure is," he said. His New York accent, never seemed to fade. Monica came up from behind him and put her hands around his waist. "Pancakes, one of my specialties."
"Hmmm. Sounds good."
John smiled, his hands touching hers. "Get ready. I'm almost done," he said. "Okay," she said, kissing his back and walking off. John watched her leave and then flipped the pancakes over.
Monica went upstairs and took a hot shower to wake her up. She put on a pair of jeans and a blue t-shirt and combed her hair. She rushed downstairs, as John was looking at the calendar. "Mon," he asked, looking at her, as she walked over by the table and sat down. "What John?" she asked, still yawning. "What day is it?"
"Sunday, why?"
John turned around. "I thought yesterday was Sunday."
Monica shook her head. "No, yesterday was Saturday." John looked back at the calendar. He could have sworn yesterday was Sunday. "Pancakes ready?" Monica asked. John nodded, still looking at the calendar. He turned away from it and put two pancakes on a paper plate and handed it to her along with the syrup. "Thank you," she said. John didn't say anything; he looked back at the calendar. "What's up with you?" Monica asked, taking a bite of her breakfast. Silence. John was still staring at the calendar. "Hey? Earth to John!" John turned around. "What? Oh how are the pancakes?"
"Great. Would you like to join me?"
"Oh of course. Sorry," he said sitting down. He put three pancakes on a paper plate and ate slowly. "Lost your appetite?" Monica joked. He looked up. "Heh. I guess I'm just not feeling well."
"Are you getting sick?" Monica asked. John shook his head. "I don't think so." "So," she said, changing the subject, "what do you want to do today?" she asked. "Well, maybe we could go out or something."
"Sounds fun. What should we do?" John thought for a moment. "How about we go to the movies?"
"The movies?" Monica questioned. "Oh yeah, maybe see a comedy or horror flick."
Monica nodded. "Okay, great." "We'll leave after breakfast."
"Okay," she said. John smiled and they ate the rest of their breakfast in silence, John's mind still on the calendar.
"Monica?" John asked, waiting for her to come downstairs. "I'm coming," she said. She ran downstairs and almost tripped again, but John caught her in the nick of time. "Whoa, close one..." she said. "Yeah, unlike last time," he said, pointing to her knee. "Yeah," she blushed.
John and Monica walked a few blocks away from his house to a local theater. They bought two tickets for some horror movie called, "Willard". John bought medium popcorn and two small drinks and they went inside the theater room and watched the previews. Monica leaned against John and he put his arm around her. Two hours later when the movie was over they left. "How'd you like it?" Monica asked quietly, sipping the rest of her soda. "Okay, I guess. Not really scary."
"Good acting though," Monica grinned. John paused. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked. His the curves of his lips turned into a small smile."
"Nothing," Monica laughed as they walked out. "You liked that Willard character?"
"Well, you gotta admit, he was rather dashing."
"Well, so was that Katherine woman," John remarked. Monica was speechless. "John Doggett, well I'll be."
"You started it," he said with a smile. "True. Okay, let's agree that they are very talented actors, and nothing more. Agreed?"
"Agreed..." John replied. He put his arm around her waist. "You were jealous," he remarked. She nudged him playfully. "So were you." "So, what do you want to do now?" he asked her. Monica thought for a moment. "Let's go home and watch TV and just relax."
John kissed Monica's forehead. "Okay, let's go."
John unlocked the front door and Monica was the first to walk in. "Want to take a nap later on?" Monica asked. John nodded, closing and locking the door behind him. "Sure, you're just full of plans today, eh?" John asked walking up from behind Monica. He grabbed her waist and pulled her in for a hug, kissing the top of her head. A small smile appearing around the corners of his mouth. "Just a little tired, I guess," she said faintly. John stopped smiling. "You okay?" he asked, turning her around. She nodded. "I guess I just want to cuddle some more too."
"No argument there," he said, holding her in a tight embrace. Monica inhaled his scent. "Hmm, this is nice," she sighed. "No work, nothing to do, but lay around and snuggle."
John nodded. They both walked to the couch and Monica rested her head on John's lap as he brushed back her hair.