Disclaimer: Belongs to Chris Carter, etc.

Rating: PG

Category: DRR

Spoilers: Audrey Pauley

Author: Traci

Summary: Picks up right where 'Audrey Pauley' left off. A sort of "what could have happened" post-ep.

Thanks to Tracy for reading and helping with the final sentence! And for the four hours it took us to come up with a title!

Taking the Chance

Glancing at the now vacant passenger seat, John Doggett sighed. At times it almost seemed like a distant memory, a bad dream even. But it wasn't distant and it had been anything but a bad dream. So what was he doing sitting in the driver's seat, ignition started and foot poised over the gas pedal? Three nights ago he had been within minutes of losing her. Three nights ago he had been within minutes of never telling her all the things he silently promised to confess if she were to come back to him. Three nights ago he had realized how much she truly meant to him and yet this night, as he drove her home from the hospital, he had merely opened the car door for her, told her goodnight and watched her walk into her apartment building. She had asked him to come in with her. He had turned her down. Without words, she had offered the invitation one last time before walking through the door and closing it behind her. Without words, he had once again turned her down opting instead for the cold emptiness of his own house.

Looking up to her floor through his windshield, he watched as the kitchen light went dim and the bedroom light illuminated her curtains.

His brain was telling him to leave. If he went up to her apartment he would forever destroy everything he already had with her. Feelings were not worth risking such a friendship for. He had always listened to those nagging thoughts. He closed his eyes for one brief moment and everything came rushing back. The phone call. The blurred race to the hospital. The fading voices telling him she was never coming back to him. The urgency to save her. The endless tears as he begged for her life. As he begged for another chance to see her, to talk to her, to…

Turning the truck off, he ran up the four flights of steps to her door.

Before he had a chance to knock, the wooden door opened and the tall, brown-eyed brunette stood smiling at him. "Was wondering how long you were going to sit down there."

Without a word, John pulled her into his arms and held her tight, not caring that once again tears began to flow from his eyes. Monica Reyes was alive and he wasn't going to waste the second chance he'd be given.

"John?" she whispered while worriedly hugging him back.

He responded by pulling her even closer.

"I'm alright," she softly assured him. "I'm not going anywhere." Feeling the warm wetness of his tears on her cheek, her own eyes watered. While John was often open about his emotions with her, rarely did he cry so openly.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into her ear.

Monica pulled back slightly and sought his eyes while kicking the door shut behind them with her foot. "Sorry? For what?"

"If…" He took a deep breath and cupped her face with his hands. "If I had only done this…" With that he leaned close and gently touched her lips with is own. Quickly he stepped back when he realized she was not responding. "I… I'm sorry, Monica. I shouldn't have. I just thought… When you were… I'm sorry." He reached for the door but her hand stopped him and she stepped between him and the door.

"Don't do this out of guilt or because you think it's what I want. Do it only if it's what you want," she told him softly.

He stared at her, speechless for a long moment trying to sort out if it was what he really wanted in his heart. If it wasn't then why had he been brought to tears while sitting in the waiting room before even knowing the full extent of her condition? Why had he stayed by her bedside the entire time, leaving only to push Scully and the doctors for the answers he wanted to hear? Why had he allowed himself to believe in what otherwise he would have scoffed at when Audrey told him she could talk to Monica in a small dollhouse? Why had he felt a tinge of pride, yet sadness when Audrey had asked him if he was Monica's husband? Why had he allowed himself to breakdown in front of a complete stranger in hopes of possibly hearing Monica's voice one last time?

"John, I can't keep this up. You know how I feel about you. You know I would move heaven and earth for you but I can't do this if it's..."

"I love you, Monica," he blurted before he could stop himself.

Monica stood frozen.

John smiled. "I love you." He finally breathed again.

While her eyes sparkled with hope, that same hope had not yet made its way to the rest of her face.

"Monica?"

She began to sway slightly so he slid an arm around her waist and led her to the couch wondering if the fear of unrequited love was something he had made her feel for so long? Maybe he had been mistaken. Maybe he had read things wrong and it wasn't love she felt for him. Maybe it wasn't a relationship she had wanted. Maybe… maybe she had only wanted to be 'friends with benefits' but that wasn't the Monica he knew. No, he had to have read the signals right.

He sat on the edge of the coffee table across from her. "I shouldn't have done this to you while you're still not feeling well. Do you need anything? Any medicine? A glass of water or something?"

Slowly her tear-filled eyes lifted to meet his. "Do you really mean it?"

Taking hold of her hands, he gave them a little squeeze. "I've meant it for a long time. I've just been too afraid to say it or do anything about it."

"I love you too, John." She gave him the special smile she reserved for only him.

"I know things are going to change…" he began.

"Why?"

"Because…" He sighed. "I don't know why."

"Nothing has to change between us." Monica said. "We've been friends for a long time. Why would that have to change?"

He shrugged.

She laughed. "I think people say that because they're afraid of being rejected by someone who already knows them so well. We're not going to lose anything we already have."

"So… you do want this too?"

Monica leaned over and pressed her lips firmly to his then looked at him. "Yes." She hesitated before adding, "Just maybe not for a few days."

"Oh geez, Mon, I wasn't even thinking about… I mean I was but not..." His face burned as it turned red.

Grinning, Monica responded, "So how long have you 'not' been thinking about it?"

"I'm not going to win this one." He got up and sat beside her on the couch where she leaned against him. "What I'm saying is that I didn't come back here tonight with any other intention than to make sure you knew, from me, that I love you. We can take things at whatever pace we both feel comfortable with. And I'll admit I'll probably be the one least comfortable with some things."

"Are you insinuating something about my social life, John?" she teased and looked up at him.

"No," he grinned back. "I'm just… well… there hasn't been anyone since…"

"Barbara?"

He nodded.

"Really? I thought you and that detective in New York a few years back had something going on? That was one of the reasons I agreed to go out with Brad."

"You went out with Brad because you thought I was dating someone else?"

She nodded.

"Heather and I were only friends. Really just friends. She um, well, let's just say I wasn't her type."

Monica's eyes went wide for a quick second. "You mean she was…?"

"Yeah. So it made it easy to hang out with her. There was never any pressure."

Thinking for a moment, Monica sat up and positioned herself to see him eye to eye. "Did you feel I was putting pressure on you?"

He shook his head. "No. I just knew… I knew that it would be so easy to have so much more with you. I didn't have to worry about that with Heather. But I could never talk to her like I have always been able to do with you."

Once again she leaned against him and snuggled into his side. "You've already given me what I needed most, John, by telling me you love me. Anything and everything else will happen in its own time when we're both ready."

He placed his left hand on her head and ran his fingers through her hair. "You need to get some sleep."

"I think I've had enough sleep."

"Drug-induced comas don't count as real sleep." Carefully he stood up then bent over and scooped her up in his arms.

"What are you doing?" she asked laughing.

"Making sure you go to bed." He carried her into her bedroom then stopped. "Um, I guess you have to get changed. I'll get your medicine." Gently, he lowered her legs to the floor then left the room.

Monica shook her head and picked up her more practical, comfortable pajamas. She was in no mood for lace despite the temptation it would be to John.

Moments later, he returned to find her already under the covers and waiting for him. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he handed her the painkillers first then held the water as she took a sip. "Do you need anything else?"

"No. I'm good. Thank you."

He stood up, placed the glass on the table beside her and looked at her. "You sure? I can sleep on the couch."

"I'm okay. Go ahead home and get some sleep yourself."

"Alright." He leaned down and kissed her. "I'll be back first thing tomorrow."

"I love you," she whispered sleepily.

"I love you, too," he whispered back. Taking a moment, he stood and watched her fall asleep from the doorway then quietly left. In two days he and Monica would be standing side by side at Audrey Pauley's funeral – the woman who had not only saved Monica's life but also his own by giving Monica back to him. As he locked Monica's door behind him, he silently thanked Audrey once again for second chances.

The End