Title: "The Mysterious Curse of James Dean's Death Car"

Author: Kathmak

Summary: Doggett and Reyes investigate a possible curse in Indiana...and they end up investigating each other as well (wink, wink).

Rating: R, possibly a bit higher (for a few bad words and some sexual situations)

Disclaimer: John and Monica don't belong to me, but they do belong to each other!

Category: DRR; romance; case file

Notes: See A/N at the end. I do wish to thank Tracy for her suggestions and beta skills. And thanks to Joanne for her wonderfully Drippy encouragement!

A.D. Skinner's Office

Wednesday, 1:15 p.m.

A part of him wished they would just do it and get it over with already. He knew that sort of thing was frowned upon by the bureau, but the atmosphere was thick with sexual tension, and it was starting to annoy him. Even he, Walter Skinner, noticed it, and he wasn't exactly the touchy-feely Dr. Phil type. Hell, a blind man could see that they were crazy about each other.

The male agent who sat in front of him insisted on looking everywhere but at her, and his female partner, who was sitting unusually close to him, looked about as nervous in his presence as an adulterer in church. As far as he knew, this "unresolved situation" didn't seem to be affecting their professional partnership. Still, he had seen Mulder and Scully go through the same thing a few years ago, and it took years for them to get their act together. He didn't want to see these two go down that same path. He was not especially close to either of them, but they were both good people, and they deserved better.

"Sir?" Monica Reyes looked at her boss expectantly. "You were saying?"

"Uh, yes." A.D. Skinner cleared his throat. "A couple of mysterious deaths occurred in Fairmount, Indiana. Here is a report of what we know so far." Skinner stood and distributed a copy of the report to each of them.

John Doggett flipped through the paperwork quickly. "I know I've never been there, but it sounds familiar to me. Not sure why, though."

Skinner returned to his chair and sat down. "Well, Agent Doggett, if you're good at Trivial Pursuit, it might sound familiar because that's where James Dean grew up. In fact, there may be a James Dean connection to this case."

"James Dean?" Monica looked up from the report. "We are talking about the actor, right? Not the guy who makes sausage?"

Skinner looked at Reyes as if she had sprouted a second head. He glanced over at Doggett, expecting him to be squinting at her with that steely, frustrated glare of his. But Doggett was looking at her adoringly, his head tilted slightly to the side as if she had just said the sweetest thing he had ever heard. And was that a smile creeping across his face?

Good Lord, Doggett's got it bad for her, all right.

"Yes, Agent Reyes, this is the actor we're talking about," Skinner pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Jimmy Dean makes the sausage."

"Excuse me, sir, but hasn't James Dean been dead for decades? Doggett asked. "What possible connection could he have to this case?"

"I'm getting to that, Agent Doggett. Two nights ago, four local teenagers were out joyriding. Apparently they decided that it would be a good idea to raise some hell at the town cemetery."

"Oh, to be young and stupid again," Doggett mused with a smirk.

"It's the cemetery where James Dean is buried," Skinner continued. "According to one of the teens, they snuck in some beer and were hanging around Dean's headstone for about twenty minutes. Then they got scared and took off."

"Any idea what spooked them?" Reyes asked, gently tugging at her collar as she stole a glance at her partner. Almost as if he could feel her eyes on him, Doggett turned quickly to face her. Precisely at that moment, Reyes decided to stick her nose back into the paperwork that rested on her lap. Skinner watched this little scenario unfold with great amusement as he continued his summation of the facts.

"They said they heard a loud noise and then a scream. So they ran to their car and were about to get in when, according to them, they saw a shadowy figure standing about ten yards in front of them. This figure warned them not to get into the car."

Doggett rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. "Lemme guess. The ghost of James Dean, right?"

"They couldn't swear to it. All they can remember is seeing a fuzzy figure and a flash of red. Two of the kids were scared enough that they refused to get into the car. They took off on foot and ran all the way into town."

"What about the other two? What happened to them?" Reyes asked.

Skinner thought to himself that Agent Reyes would already know the answer to that question, had she been reading the report as intently as she had pretended to, instead of trying not to get caught ogling her partner.

"They were killed when the car inexplicably ran into a tree and burst into flames. There were no adverse weather conditions, nor anything else that could have explained it." Skinner saw that Doggett still didn't look convinced. "Look," he continued, "one of the kids who was killed was the nephew of A.D. Bradley up in Violent Crimes. He doesn't think the local authorities are approaching this case the right way. He would like some FBI involvement. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir. We'll take care of it. C'mon, John." Reyes stood up, gently tugging on John's sleeve as she did so. With a resigned sigh, Doggett got up and followed his partner out of Skinner's office.