Title: Dream a little dream of me

Author: Louise

Email: John has a dream about Monica. Can he turn it into a reality?

Not suitable for anyone under 18.

Author's notes: Big thanks to Kate who picked the title, proofread and helped with Grammar suggestions.

Monica couldn't believe what she was hearing: his rugged voice moaned loudly as he continued to snore in between his gasps.

She watched in awe as he repeated her name over and over. She shifted her body slightly to the other end of the door frame. Hearing him call out her name like this was having a drastic affect on her. In truth, it was making her melt like an icecube under the hot Mexico sun. She wanted so badly to see and experience what was taking place in his dream.

John had been up for 24 hours straight, and she had told him to go home and rest. But, as always, he insisted that he was fine.

"I love you, Monica," he slurred.

His mouth slumped against the desk. She wanted to wrap her arms around him or make him a little more comfortable as he slept, but she feared that she would wake him and deprive him of the dream that she wished so badly could be a reality.

In his dream, John continued to stare at Monica, the woman he had come to know and love. His breathing increased as they kissed passionately after what seemed like eternal love making.

The place was so different, so bright and so colourful; it was a place that seemed so perfect. It was too perfect, and he couldn't quite grasp where he was, or how they came to share their passion; all he knew was that he liked it, and that's all that mattered to him.

"You're beautiful, "he whispered.

Monica continued to watch him. The more he called out to her, the more tears escaped from her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed, and her breathing had become as rapid as her partner's.

It suddenly occurred to Monica that John could wake up at anytime, and she couldn't let him see her like this. She forced herself to back away from the door frame that had held her steady for the past half an hour, and she decided to let him sleep.

She let the cold water cool her down as she repeatedly splashed it across her face. She couldn't help herself: she was never going to put this at the back of her thoughts, but she had to, at least for now.

John opened his eyes: they felt heavy as he tried unsuccessfully to look around on several occasions. The light that shone from the skylight blinded him over and over; he winced as he tried to focus on the angelic figure that entered the door.

"Hey! I see you're awake," Monica said brightly, perching herself at the side of his desk.

He said nothing. All he could think of was the image of her naked body entwined with his own. Wiping away the perspiration that dampened his forehead, he studied her face intently

John felt awkward sitting there. He didn't know how he could spend the rest of the day with Monica sitting this close to him; it felt like a thousand degrees in the tiny underground office, and he just couldn't take the humidity any longer.

He got up from his chair and searched for air, turning the air conditioner up as high as possible. He needed space, but at the same time he wanted her with him.

"Another hour and its home time," he joked, flopping back down into the chair.

"I'm afraid not for you, Mr Doggett," she teased. "You've slept for hours. So, that means you get to hand in our report, which means I get to leave before you."

"You're leaving?" He seemed disappointed.

"Do you want me to stay?" Monica's voice was seductive, and he felt his temperature soar once again.

"Yeah, I mean no, if you have plans for tonight then of course you should go." He said, scribbling his signature on the file.

She shook her head. Maybe he thought of her as a Friday night girl, the kind of person that liked to party with her friends after work.

"John, my Friday is no different from yours. Both of us eat pizza, watch TV, and clean our homes. We're FBI agents and that's what agents do, I suppose," she said, reaching for her coat.

Her low waisted black pants gave John a full view of her thong underwear, which had worked its way up above her pants. John couldn't help but stare as if in a trance; he observed every detail.

He came around from his desk and stood behind her. Taking her coat from the stand, he helped her into it and turned her around to face him.

"Are you busy tonight?" he asked, tensely.

"Never too busy for you, John," she replied with a smile.

If only she knew what he was thinking, she pondered for a moment, as she waited for his reason for asking.

John cleared his throat nervously. "Well I was thinking about renting a couple of movies tonight, and ordering some food. I thought since your Friday is no different from my Friday, maybe we could get together and watch a movie."

"That sounds great, should I bring anything?" she asked playfully.

He stepped closer to her, wanting to taste the fragrance that roamed the air around her.

"You would be just fine," he replied, moving a little closer than he usually would.

Monica couldn't stand it any longer. She watched him stare at her, from her eyes to her mouth. The tingling sensation that had felt so prominent earlier had reappeared in her abdomen, sending tiny spasms lower and throughout her body.

His mouth moved in slowly, obviously seeking reassurance that she wanted this as much as he did. He brushed his lips gently over hers, and she responded immediately. She made him feel more than welcome when her arms made their way around his back and caressed his neck, pulling him closer and urging him on further.

There was nothing in the world that would stop them now. She thrust her body against him, feeling the want in him, the need, and the urgency to do what he had dreamed of doing earlier.

Monica was powerless as he turned himself around and pinned her tight against the filing cabinet. She had never felt more alive. Running his tongue along her neck, he tasted and captured the aroma that was always prominent in and around the office when she was near.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, as his fingers worked to remove the obstruction of her blouse and then her bra.

"Oh, John." Her exclamation nearly sent him over the edge as his mouth descended to her breasts.

Licking and sucking his way down her body, he unfastened her belt and proceeded to taste her flesh. He wanted to make this last as long as possible for both of them, and yet he wanted to rip the remaining clothing right off her body. The latter impulse won out.

They tore at eachother's clothing until neither of them could resist the temptation to finish what they had started.

"Johhhhnnnnnn!"

"Don't stop!"

Digging her nails into his shoulders, she just couldn't last another second. His thrusts became more active until they both came hard; collapsing in ecstasy.

The floor was cold and rigid, but neither cared. The heat that generated from both their bodies made them more than comfortable as they lay spent in eachother's arms.

"I'm so sorry," he said.

"Sorry for what?" She asked. His words seemed to confuse her.

"For taking so long to tell you that I love you and for wasting so much time," he said, kissing her hair.

"There's no need to apologize, John. You have nothing to be sorry about, and I love you too." She smiled and settled back into his embrace.

"So does that mean that you're still coming around tonight?"

"You bet…you'll never get rid of me" she laughed, as she leaned in for another kiss.

END

I hope this wasn't too graphic. I love romance fic, but I'm also cautious as to what I can say/can't say in romance fiction. Lol

Thanks once again to Kate for giving me a few pointers.