Title: Whispers of the Night
Authors: RPcrazy and Alycia
Written: 2002
Rating: NC-17 - language, sexual situations and supernatural themes.
Category: SXR
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Romance/Smut, DRR, casefile, Doggett POV and Reyes POV
Spoilers: Season 9

Summary: Doggett and Reyes are asked to spend the night in a *haunted* house to investigate the strange occurrences that have been happening after midnight each night. They don't realise the surprises that lie in store especially when it comes to their relationship.


The X-Files Credits:

Doggett voiceover before the credits: <<Some people believe our lives are all planned out for us, the way we live, the decisions we make, the people we meet are all part of a bigger plan. This plan never deviates no matter how many obstacles are thrown in our path. They call it fate. I happen to think this is a whole lot of ....>>

Camera pans to Doggett in his livingroom at night all alone watching the television.

Come on this is all bullshit! I'm more of a realist than that. So when women have the prerogative to change their minds their final decision has all been planned? So when our favorite football player trips and loses possession of the ball just out of reach of the touchdown line it was all meant to be? What a whole pile of shit!

The craziest *coincidence* happened to me last night. I know you hear the sarcasm in my voice. I was eating at home alone again watching Showtime on television, my TV dinner was on my knee. I've never been one for the fantasy, paranormal, thriller genre but I found myself watching a rerun of the movie 'Ghost' with Demi Moore and Patrick Swaytze. You know, the movie where Sam and Molly are deeply in love and he gets killed on an encounter with a thief in a dark alley. He finds himself trapped as a ghost and communicates with Molly through Oda Mae Brown (Whoopee Goldberg), a psychic who didn't even realise her powers were real.

I wouldn't admit it to anyone but it brought a tear to my eye and left me feeling a little sorry for myself. Here I was in my early forties, a fairly attractive, single man home alone on a Friday night eating a ready-made dinner. I want female companionship but the object of my desires is already spoken for. I know I have to move on.


Brad's hand rested on my leg as the soft music played from the screen. He'd dropped by for one of those "Surprise Visits" and I couldn't say I was particularly comfortable with his hand there. He let it rest there until he was massaging my leg in that spot, that spot that he *knew* drove me wild. "Brad, not right now, okay?"

I'd made him watch City of Angels with me since he just dropped by, because watching that movie was what I had planned. Now as I watched Brad's hand snap back to his side, and Meg Ryan tell Nicolas Cage that she loved him, I wondered if Brad really loved me. Back when we were going out before, I told him I loved him, but he didn't respond. He just sort of kissed me and brushed the comment away.

A few moments later I felt his arm snaking its way around my shoulders. I sighed.

Well, if he tried anything, I could ask him to leave. My thoughts absently trailed to John, and what he was doing. I'd been thinking more and more about him lately. For instance, just this morning when I was cooking my broccoli and cheese omlet, my thoughts trailed to him and I'd almost burnt myself. I didn't know why I was thinking about him. I just...was. It crossed my mind that maybe the feelings...those old feelings I had for him were coming back... I felt a hand snaking its way under my pajama pants. I smacked Brad's hand and told him sternly, "Brad, I'm not in the mood! Okay?" ................................


The night was balmy so I decided to wear just my boxers to bed. The sheets were cool on my arms and chest as I slipped under the covers. I thought about the last time that I had someone here to share this comfort with me. It was way too long ago. I know I'm fussy when it comes to women. There's a good reason for that. Before my marriage I played the field but since my ex-wife's departure from my life I don't wanna stuff up any other relationships. I'm not one to just sleep with anyone. The flame needs to grow gradually, that's part of the reason why it'll be hard to let go of my thoughts for Dana.

Let me explain. All through the last year, working cases together she'd hit a nerve with me. Her flame red hair, her intellect, her full lips talking to me, her rational and calm view of many of our cases, her wonderful hug before she left the X-Files office to go on maternity leave, her petite body, her wide blue eyes looking at me ... I have to calm down.... Although she admires me as a partner and friend, now I know her heart will always be linked to Mulder. So I have to be the realistic person that I am and move on - as hard as it is.

As my hand still felt the smooth texture of the bedsheets I wondered who would be the next female to lie there with me. ................... ...............

Then there was the second coincidence of the night. The radio near my bed was playing music from around the world. I'd never heard of the Australian band 'Regurgitator' but now I payed attention. I heard the heavy bass guitar and the techno treble and then the lyrics.

<<Verse 1: I saw a ghost beside my bed, she said to me she wasn't dead. She wore a ribbon in her hair, she smiled and vanished in the air. Chorus: Is she real or am I going crazy? Verse 2: I couldn't sleep, lay still and thought about her eyes and smile I adored. She had a way I'd never seen, I fell in love you won't believe. Verse 3: In the morning when I awoke, there was no surprise just sun and more, but what is that there I see? A ribbon on the floor for me. Chorus 2: She is real and I'm not crazy.>>

The lyrics caught my ear but the song title made me stand to attention. 'Ghost'.

...and then there was the third coincidence.. ..................................

Reyes: I couldn't sleep. Thoughts of John Doggett flooded my head again. It was then, at that moment I realized it I had fallen for my partner. I didn't know why I'd fallen for him, all I knew was that I *had*. I thought about why I'd fallen for him. The eyes? The body? But even though he has beautiful eyes, I realized, and a nice bod, it goes deeper than a physical attraction. It's an emotional thing. I had to figure it out.

The cool breeze fluttered my white curtains, making them reach out to me like ghostly hands. I relaxed a bit, thinking of spirits. I'd always looked at ghosts as things of beauty, and peacefulness. Never anything to be scared of. The thought of living for years more with unfinished business...I don't know, but something about it made me drift away, thinking thoughts of Ghosts, and John. Nothing of what would happen the following day.

I opened my eyes and groggily looked at my clock. It was 7:00 AM. What was that ringing?... It was hurting my head. Realizing it was the phone, I picked up the receiver from the phone on my night table. "Monica Reyes," I mumbled groggily. "Monica? It's John." My heart leapt. "Yeah?"



I lay in bed thinking again about the movie I'd watched that night, absently feeling the empty space in the bed beside me, when the phone rang.

"John Doggett," I answered without thinking. "John, it's me Skinner. I'm sorry to ring at this time of night but I've had a distraught family here to see me." On numerous occasions Doggett had wondered whether the assistant director had a life other than at his office.

"Yes sir, how can I help?" "Sorry to do this to you John but it's something I'd like to discuss with you here in person." "I'll be right there." I was a little annoyed at the disruption to my sleep but I threw on my jeans and T-shirt anyway, collected the truck keys and made my way out into the cool night air.


"John, I'd like you to meet Mr. and Mrs. Bowman." Skinner directed his attention to the restless looking couple seating in front of Skinner's desk. I held my hand out and shook theirs in greeting.

"So what's all this then to get me outta bed at this time of night?" "Just listen to what they have to say John." I nodded, sat on the edge of Skinner's desk and waited.

Mr. Bowman began,

"It's been going on for about two years now." He looked across to his wife and took her hand. I noticed the gesture and briefly imagined myself and Dana in that position. This was madness, I must get thoughts of her out of my head.

"Put it this way our house is haunted."

I know they saw the look of disbelief flooding over my face. "Haunted you say," I continued more slowly. "And what makes you think this?"

Mrs. Bowman spoke this time clutching her husband's hand even tighter. "It only happens at night, after midnight. We hear strange sounds, lights go on and off without any of us having touched the switches and household items have been moved from where they were the previous night."

"Maybe it's someone playing tricks." I was still not convinced this had anything to do with the supernatural. "No, we've talked to all our acquaintances, there is no reason for anyone to do this to us. It's definitely not normal. Our family is at our wits end over this."

"Why don't you just move out?" I stated the obvious. "We can't afford to do that and no-one would want to buy our haunted house." I raised my eyebrows and nodded affirmation.

Skinner decided to interject here. "John, we've been talking and we'd like you and Agent Reyes to investigate this for us." "Investigate? What did you have in mind sir?" "We'd like you and Agent Reyes to spend the night at the Bowman's house and experience this phenomenon for yourselves. The family will stay at a neighboring house."

I supposed that would be the logical way to go so I agreed and decided to contact Monica in the morning with the news.


Doggett 7.oo AM next morning:

"Monica Reyes." She sounded sleepy. It wasn't the first time I'd woken her up with an early morning call. "Monica? It's John." "Yeah?" Was it my imagination or did she suddenly sound wider awake? "Monica, we have a case. Can I come round?" She'd recently moved into her new accommodation and I'd only visited a couple of times before. I still think about that time recently she'd wiped the mustard off my mouth when she'd first moved in. I felt something inside me, was it a knot in my stomach? The way she rested her fingers on my cheek and that look she got on her face. Was she coming onto me? That hug she gave me in her kitchen, I still can't make out why.

I get the feeling that it was a turning point in our relationship. She had been happier and more relaxed with me now. I like her as a partner and a friend. I'm actually beginning to enjoy the anticipation of seeing her smiling face again.


"Come in John." Monica's face showed the smiling expression I had imagined on the way over and my heart lifted. What she did next was another sign that our relationship was moving on. She took my hand in hers and led me to the livingroom. "Coffee, John?" "Yes Monica, black." As she floated to the kitchen and then came back with two coffees I noticed her for the first time as a woman and not just a partner. She was beautiful. Her radiant face lit up against her jet-black hair. Her eyes sparkled as she sat down next to me, looking into my eyes.

"What John?" She gave a small puzzled shake of her head. How could I tell her what I was thinking? What would she think of me? This was not the right time.

"I better tell you about this new case Monica." I took a sip of my coffee so I could divert my eyes from hers. Could she tell what I was thinking? I know that women can be pretty accurate with how men think sometimes.

She shifted in her seat and then sat back while I explained about the Bowmans and their haunted house. "So John, how do you feel about staying there a whole night with me?" "You sound as though we're going to sleep in the same bed," I said this then immediately regretted it. I think I embarrassed her. Her face flushed and she hung her head. I lightly placed a hand on her shoulder. "It was just a joke Monica." She smiled and placed her hand on mine.


I left my hand on his for a moment, feeling the warmth on my hand, but the shivers down my spine. Was that sparks? I brushed the feeling away. "What should I bring, John?" I asked, taking a sip of my coffee, which I'd added Irish Cream to. "I guess an extra pair of clothes and a toothbrush or whatever...y'know, an overnight bag." "Okay. John, do you have any silver?" "What?" "Silver, jewelry. Ghosts are attracted to silver." He sort of shook his head and let out a small snort.

"Monica, you aren't taking this seriously, are you?" "Why not?" "Well, I mean, it doesn't surprise me that *you* think ghosts are real." "Thanks." "No, no. I didn't mean it in a bad way. I just meant, that...you believe in this stuff, but these people...I don't know..."

"John, have you ever seen The Amityville Horror?" "You mean that corny, stupid movie based on real happenings? Yes." "That was a hoax. You're right. It was stupid. Corny. Come on, a demonic pig? But...did they describe what's been going on?" "Yeah...sounds after midnight and lights going on and off...whatever.. ." "Poltergeists." I whispered. "What?" "Poltergeists, German for 'noisy spirit'." "Yeah, they're said to throw stuff, start fires...basically very havoc wrecking ghosts." There was a tone of amusement in his voice.

"Is this all a joke to you, John?" I asked. "No...but, come on. Spirits hanging around to haunt?" "They don't necessarily haunt, John. They have unfinished business." "Like what?" I was going to win this argument, dammit. I knew John didn't believe in this stuff, but I had to show him the idea wasn't so far out there.

"What if you loved someone and you never told her how you felt? And you died tomorrow? Eh? That's unfinished business." He was silent. Wow. He didn't put up much of a fight with that one. I felt the vibes...no, it wasn't sexual tension. Something else...guilt? Embarrassment? Coming from....John? I sighed.

"Look, I have my beliefs and you have yours. No need to argue." "Yeah," he said. "Anyway, we're supposed to go over there today to look at the house by day." "Okay." "I'll come by later, when you're dressed." I realized I was still in my pajama pants and a tank top. "Alright. About noon?" "Sure. See you at noon." Something was up with John Doggett. My little comment had gotten to him. Was he in love with someone? If he was, I got the feeling it wasn't me.


Why did she have to go and say that? <<What if you loved someone and you never told her how you felt? And you died tomorrow? That's unfinished business.>>

Why did she have to dredge up the feelings I've been trying to lock deep inside me? Am I wrong in keeping my feelings for Scully to myself? Should I tell her and risk my friendship with her and with Mulder?

I could tell Monica knew something was different with me. Her smile had dimmed and she was almost pushing me out the door. I wish I knew what she was thinking, one moment joyous to see me then the next quiet and guarded.

"John, you better go now. I need to shower and prepare for our investigation. You can find your own way out."

What I felt like doing and what I did do then were very different. I wanted to hold her chin gently in my hand, guide her face to look into mine and ask her to confide in me. I wanted to know her mind. What I did do was watch her walk away from me towards her bedroom and I left her apartment with no more words.

All the way home it bothered me. I wish I could read women better. I knew I felt good when Reyes was happy and it made me feel insecure when she was sad. If only I knew what to do to make her happy all the time.

Today and tonight would be like a test. This would be the longest time we had spent together as partners. What would the next twenty-four hours hold? Whatever it did hold was certainly not pre-planned by fate, not if I could help it. ........................

I was actually surprised by my reaction when Monica opened the door for me just after midday. She looked beautiful. Her hair was tied back loosely and she had on a pale blue buttoned up blouse with a little darker blue linen pants. I wondered if she saw the look of awe on my face. Her face was certainly back to its happy self. Then I noticed her Bob the Builder overnight bag and I just laughed.

"John, it was a present from my niece, okay." Monica smiled at my reaction and brushed past me grabbing my hand on the way. She was certainly more forward than Scully ever was, and she was certainly not embarrassed to draw attention to herself. I like that about Monica. It's not often that my sense of humor surfaces but around Monica it floats more often than it used to.


John looked genuinely surprised when I opened the door. Maybe it was because I hadn't blow-dried my hair, or maybe it was because I was wearing blue, but he looked nothing but surprised. I closed and locked my door behind it, Bob the Builder bag in hand. "Ready for me to prove you wrong?" I asked, jokingly. John shook his head. "I really think this is all a big, big joke, Monica," he said. "We'll just see about that." "I guess we will, won't we." I smiled. It was great to play competition with John. He was so cute while trying to be competitive.



At the Bowman house, I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't a twenty-year-old, white and green split-level. Maybe I thought it would be some huge mansion. But ghosts haunt everywhere, not just the cliche mansion. It was big and dark inside, with six bedrooms and two bathrooms. There was a fireplace in one of the lower floors, and I sighed. It was a very magical place to be. John wasn't buying the ghostly atmosphere.

Mr. and Mrs. Bowman had gone to a motel for the night, and left a note on the table for us.

"Agents, we really appreciate this. You can sleep in the upstairs bedroom on the left. That's where the most activity goes on. And don't worry about the silk. It doesn't seem to stop these ghosts-The Bowmans."

I smiled. They seemed pretty frazzle minded, just by reading this person's handwriting. I walked into the bedroom where the note said we could stay. And upon entering I gasped. The bed was covered entirely in black silk. The sheets, the pillowcases, the blankets, silk. All silk. It was said that ghosts didn't like silk. They stayed away from it. But apparently this ghost didn't mind it.

"There's only one bed. I'll sleep in the other bedroom." "No," I said, a little too quickly. "I don't mind. Really. Besides, we should both be in the room in case something happens." I didn't mention the fact that the thought of sleeping in the same bed as John Doggett wrapped in black silk aroused me very much. "Are you sure?" he asked. "It's against policy." "Screw policy. This is a must-do. In case something happens, we both have to see it," I said matter-of-fact ly. "Alright...but I get the left side of the bed."


She seemed a little too eager for me to sleep in this bed with her. I wondered whether this *screwing of policy* would continue with her and how often had she flaunted the regulations in the past.

"Okay Monica, I can see where you're going with this but you must know what being in bed with a beautiful woman does to us hot-blooded males," I said this as a joke but the look on her face surprised me.

"You really think I'm beautiful John?" I'd really put my foot in it this time. There was no escape. I just had to come out with what I'd been thinking. I moved up closer to her and spoke softly.

"Yes, you're beautiful Monica." The way she looked at me then melted my heart. It was as though I had just told her the revelation of a lifetime. Surely she knew that she was very attractive. Didn't every woman know her assets? She moved her hand up to my face and gently caressed my cheek with her thumb. I felt myself lean into her hand.

What was happening here? I was feeling twinges of desire for this woman that I couldn't understand. My body was telling me to kiss her but my conscience was holding me back. I moved away before my body took over.

"Ah, Monica. I think we should take a look around. You know, get used to our surroundings. Maybe we could think about dinner tonight?"

Reyes: The feel of his face leaning in my hand was amazing. I never wanted to move from that position. But I had to. I cleared my throat.

"For dinner, we can just eat something they have in their kitchen. We're trying to solve these peoples' haunted problem, they should at least supply us a meal." I smiled. John smiled back.

"We could even find candles..." I trailed off, and turned to examine the living room further. I walked over to the fireplace, where there were several pictures of the same two little girls-one looked about 5, the other 16. The 16-year-old had black hair and pale skin, with mascara and eyeliner thickly applied. In all of her pictures, she had the slightest of smiles. The five-year-old had curly blond hair and was always in a dress or skirt. She always had a bright, freshening smile that might get annoying once in a while.

"Monica, come look at this." I turned and saw John, examining a family portrait. I looked at it and saw Mrs. Bowman, Mr. Bowman, and the two girls from the fireplace. And another girl standing there, she looked about 14, and she was a mix between the other girl's blond hair, but lots of makeup and no smile.

"So?" "Do you see that other blond in any of the pictures here?" "No, I guess not...but what if she's at college or something? What if she wasn't here for all the rest of these pictures?" "Monica, she looks 14."

"So?" John sighed. "Whatever. I was just bringing that to your attention." "Thank you." I smiled. John looked at me strangely. He had a goofy half grin on, and it made me wonder what his looks were going to make me do in that bed later tonight.


There was that look again on Monica's face, half laughing, half thoughtful. I'd seen it a lot lately. It's funny though, I never remember seeing it when we were working on that case in New York. Maybe it was just that she was happy with her life now. After all this was her dream job.

I looked at my watch and realized it was already 6 pm. The afternoon had flown by. I found Monica rummaging around in the room they would probably call the library. It was a magnificent room, plush red carpet, mahogany furniture, antique furnishings and walls lined with bookcases. The Bowmans were obviously collectors of old books. I spied a very old copy of Homer's Odyssey remembering having read and enjoyed that back in my college days.

In one corner was a small open fireplace set with logs. In front was the most comfortable looking sofa I had ever seen. It was set with plump red cushions to match the carpet. I imaged that this room would have a romantic glow to it at night as the fire blazed. Coffee and cognacs in front of that fire with the girl of my dreams was a very pleasant notion.

A thought just occurred to me. I usually had Dana on my mind constantly lately but today I'd only thought of her momentarily. What had happened to distract me? Monica turned around from her perusal of the non-fiction book section to see my pensive face.

"John, you're deep in thought. Want to tell me?" Of course I didn't want to tell her. "Monica, I was just thinking about dinner," I lied. "How about I cook." She smiled as she approached me. "You can cook John?" "Why is that so hard to believe? I have my specialities." She slowly nodded approval. "Okay John, you cook and I'll look after the table setting."



I rummaged around in the drawer of a china cabinet, finding two long, blue candles and a box of matches sitting on a lacy white tablecloth. I decided the Bowmans wouldn't mind much if we used these. Besides, I wanted to have a romantic dinner with John and nothing was going to stop me.

Romantic Dinner. With John. The thought was uncanny but thrilling at the same time. I placed the tablecloth over the Bowmans' beautiful round oak table and placed the candles on it. I didn't light them quite yet. I followed the delicious aroma into the kitchen, wondering what John had found to cook.

"That smells wonderful, John. What is it?" "Sage Chicken." I raised an eyebrow. "Sage?" I saved myself from sounding stupid by not telling John that ghosts cannot resist sage. "Yeah...you skin the chicken and fry it in sage and Cabernet." "Cabernet...wine?" "Yeah." "You're using these people's expensive wine to cook chicken?" "Why not?" I shrugged. "Hope they don't bill us!"

Rummaging in the cupboards of the kitchen, I found plates and crystal wineglasses. Then I sat them out neatly on the table, folding white cloth napkins under the silverware. Then I looked at the table. It was real crystal the glasses were made of. The wine was Cabernet. Didn't these people say they didn't have the money to move out? John took the plates and arranged the chicken on them, putting rice on the side and leaves of parsley. He was really good at this. I sat the plates down on the table and killed the lights. Then I took the matches and lit the candles.

"Wow Monica. You really went all out." "We have to stay locked up here all night, I figure, why not make the best of it?" He smiled and we dined on the wonderful dinner he made, drinking the wine. Absently, I dipped my finger in the wine and started running it around the rim of the glass, making the loud, humming noise that sounded like a UFO.

John smiled as I did so, and asked what the hell I was doing. "It's a habit when I'm drinking from real crystal. Look, you just put some wine on your finger..." I reached across the table and took his hand, dipping the tip of his pointer finger in the wine. But I got too much wine on it. Your fingers can't be too wet. So absentmindedly, I licked some of the wine off, not even thinking about the fact that it was my partner's finger I was licking. Then I moved his finger around the rim of the glass. He too made the noise and smiled at me. But that smile was more than just the joy of playing his crystal glass. It was something else. Something that I couldn't quite put my finger on.

We were smiling at each other as I continued to rhythmically move his finger, making the humming noise. Then it turned cold in the room, and the flame from the candle blew out.

"What was that?" I asked. I stopped moving his hand and stumbled to the china cabinet, stubbing my toe about five billion times. "Christ...damn...shit...son of a..." I finally found the matches and made my way back over to the table, lighting the candle again. The single candle lit added an eerie glow to its silver stand, and John's face.

We finished our dinner in silence, looking around suspiciously. That really creeped me out. "It was probably just our movement." John said finally. "John, we were barely moving." "Maybe one of us was breathing too hard." I decided not to argue with him and nodded, then finished the chicken and Cabernet, which were both delicious.


I gazed at Monica as she ate the chicken I had prepared for us. Her face in the candlelight looked wonderful. The flicker of the flame was reflected in her eyes as they lifted up to mine. She caught my gaze and smiled sweetly.

There were a number of reasons why I was starting to think a little differently about my partner here on the opposite side of the table and her beautiful face was one. Another was the way she held my wine-drenched finger and without trepidation sucked off the excess. She didn't know what that did to me. I definitely felt something stir in my loins. I looked at her to see if she had any idea the effect this had on me but she just looked at me blankly, rubbing my finger around the rim of the glass.

At this stage I was wondering whether I should make a move, and if so what sort of move should it be? I could take that hand of hers and bring it to my lips. That would be simple enough and I could then gauge whether or not to go further. I was about to do just that when the room suddenly turned chilly and the candles blew out.

While my eyes were adjusting to the dark I heard Monica cussing obviously trying to find the matches to relight the candles.

Well that opportunity was gone and I wasn't sure there would be another like it. It was probably for the best. If it was the wrong move to make it could have put us in an awkward position for the remainder of the night. We had to keep level heads here, this was our job.

"John, I think I'm going to have to get my jacket. It's cold in here." Monica had finished her meal and began to collect the dishes. "Forget the jacket, why don't I make up that fire in the library. We can sit there and get warm. By the way I saw a chocolate cake in the fridge, I'm sure the Bowman's won't mind if we have a couple of slices." "Sounds good to me. I'll just stack the dishwasher and I'll be right in with the cake."

That was weird, when I went to switch on the light in the library nothing happened so I had to start the open fire in opaque light. Then all of a sudden as Monica came in the room with our desserts the light decided to go on. Must be a faulty switch, I'll look at it for them in the morning.

The fire was blazing now and Monica switched off the light. Little did she know that this was a fantasy of mine, being in front of an open fire with a desirable woman. My body was starting to heat up now from the fire and from my developing libidinous thoughts.


John and I were sitting much closer than partners should be sitting. I was practically sitting in his lap. The silence was excruciating. I had to think of something to say. Then I decided that I had to confide in John, you have to be best friends before you become lovers, right?

"Brad came over last night," I said disgustedly. That made John look slightly uncomfortable.

"Oh?" "Yeah...you know, me and Brad had some times back in New York..." John took a silver cachou off of his slice of cake and popped it in his mouth.

"Oh?" "Yeah...but I can tell what he wants. I just wish he'd get the picture. I don't want to have sex with him."

Being this open with John must have surprised him. He looked at me with crystal blue pools of existence. Life. There was puzzlement in his tone when he said what he said next, but he seemed happy I could share so much with him.

"Why are you telling me this, Monica?"

"I...you're my friend, John. My best friend. I trust you. I..." He was leaning in closer. I was leaning closer to him. Our lips were a millimetre away from touching.

Then the fire sped up, crackling and flaring as tall as I was.


The mere mention of Follmer's name gave me the sensation of paranoid needles prickling my skin. I despised that man and the fact that he'd had a past relationship with Monica made me wonder what she saw in him.

When she'd said she didn't want to have sex with him I relaxed a little but was still wondering what they had done last night and whether she still had feelings for him.

Yes, Monica and I had become very good friends. In fact, as she looked into my eyes I knew that this was the right time. I felt a flood of desire I hadn't experienced for a long time. As I leaned into her I knew she wanted the same thing. Our mouths were so close, I could feel her warm breath on my lips I could almost taste her.

"What just happened there?" I put a protective arm around Monica as the huge flames began to die down. She responded to my touch and clung to me.

"John, I don't like this. There have been too many strange happenings here. First the fourteen year old missing from recent pictures, the chill in the air and the candles blowing out, the light switch in this room and now this. John, there is something at work here."

As I held her close I could feel her heart racing.

"Monica," I moved to rest my head near hers and whispered in her ear. "I'm sure this can all be explained somehow."

I instinctively wanted to calm her, I wanted to be responsible for making her feel relaxed again. "Come here."

I positioned her so that she sat between my legs, both of us facing the now tranquil fire. She didn't object so I wrapped my arms around her and nestled into her hair.

"Better now?" I said to her softly, feeling her silken tresses over my cheek. "John." She moved her body slightly round to face me and in doing so rubbed that part of me that gave it all away. I knew she felt it too. "John."

Just saying my name that way made me want to kiss her again. I leant in and this time our lips made contact. Her mouth was soft and warm on mine and I felt myself grow more against her hip. She shifted her body around further for a better position and I felt spasms of pure joy go through me. The heat from the fire was warming our faces but the heat from our bodies was burning us up.

I slid my tongue between her lips and she opened up letting our tongues caress. My hand went slowly to her waist and I pulled her in closer. Our kiss was deep and filled with intimate desire.

I didn't want to stop this piece of pure heaven.


Her mouth was warm and soft on mine oozing out all the pleasure that lips could impart. My heart was pumping now and I could feel her pulse-rate soar as I slowly and gently moved my hand around her neck and through her silky dark hair. She let out purrs in her throat and I made the kiss deeper.

What was going through my mind as I was kissing her could not adequately be put into words. I wanted to gather her up in my arms now and take her to bed. I wanted to plant kisses all over her sexually primed body. I wanted to make her scream my name and beg me to enter her.

The atmosphere was right tonight for some erotic lovemaking but how would she react if I made the first move? I ran my hand down over her back and down her spine and felt her bra underneath the thin fabric of her shirt. She groaned again into my mouth. That was encouragement to go further. My hand found it's way down to her ass and I massaged pulling her in closer to me.

I knew she could feel me go harder next to her and I didn't mind that part of me letting her know I wanted her more than anything in this world now. My hand went along her leg and I pulled her around so that she was facing me - her crotch near mine.

At this point I knew she wanted me too.

"Oh John, I want you to make love to me. I want to feel you inside me and every part of me." As a prelude to the moment of ultimate passion I kissed her again with fervent vigor wanting to prolong this wonderfully intimate experience.

Reyes: In the midst of the kiss my hands found their way down to the part of John that was growing against my hips and inner thigh. I rubbed his erection through his pants and he puffed hot air in my mouth, making a small, helpless moaning noise. His strong, masculine, muscular hands rose up my stomach and into my armpits, he was going to remove my shirt.

"No," I whispered. "Let's go in the bedroom." He placed a string of delicate kisses down my neck as we stumbled into the bedroom where we'd be sleeping. The lights were still off, but it didn't matter. Nothing mattered but this.

Laying me on the black, silk bed, he moved his mouth down and unzipped my pants with his teeth, pulling them off with his hands, sending shivers up and down my spine. I knew what he was going to do. He moved so that he could look into my eyes and his fingers delicately found their way through the dark silk curls and entered me. One finger, two fingers, three fingers. In a circular motion they went, making me groan slightly in his ear. I felt myself getting wetter, and slippery. He moved them around, getting obvious pleasure out of my little cries.

"J...John..." he pulled his fingers out. This was designed to tease, not to satisfy. We gently worked our way out of our clothes and his mouth traveled my body, stopping to tease me with his tongue in various places. When he was facing me again, I started kissing him, feeling him growing harder and harder against my slippery, wet legs. He touched me places no other man had ever touched me, like massaging my legs and tracing my ears. He took the fingers that had been in me and ran them gently over my lips, letting me taste myself. He was ready to enter me, but I wasn't going to let him. I dropped before his naked hips. "No, John," I said. "My turn."


I felt myself letting out small whimpers as Monica licked the head of my very aroused cock all the while looking up into my eyes. What was it about this act that us men craved for? What was I saying, this was the most amazing sensation of bliss on earth. Her mouth was hot and alive as she moved it over the head. Her eyes were closed now as she slowly moved down filling her mouth with my engorged member.

With one hand she held the base of the shaft as she sucked up to the tip then down again. My fingers found her head and absently twirled her hair around my fingers. The cool room air hit my wet erection as she sucked up but this was once again replaced with fire as her mouth moved down. This alternate sensation happening again and again was beginning to push me over the edge. I didn't want to come in her mouth, not the first time so I forced myself to talk.

"Not now." It came out huskily. "I want to be inside you." She seemed to understand what I meant so gave me one last measured lick all the way up and off then looked up at me with a Cheshire grin. She lay back on the bed pulling me with her.

I gazed at her wonderful body as she did so. Her skin was velvet in the dim light and her shapely curves stood out against the blackness of the sheets. This woman was extremely desirable. She spread her legs for me, enticing me to search for that special place between them. Her hand reached for my cock and guided it into her very wet, sizzling centre.

As I entered her for the very first time it didn't even occur to me that this act, this intimate union could be the downfall of my career. All I wanted was to be inside her, to feel her body surround me, to cacoon me in our own small world.

Oh my Lord, she is wonderful. I was in paradise and I felt I needed to let her know this. I leant down and whispered in her ear as I stroked inside her slowly.

"Monica honey, this feels so good, you are perfection." I meant every word and every touch. My lips brushed hers again and mouths opened. Her tongue explored my mouth as I searched inside her loins.

The sounds of ecstasy grew louder from both of us, not caring if anyone was close by to hear them. I released her lips to concentrate on giving her the best sex she'd ever had. As the mutual rhythm increased I ran a hand down her body feeling the warm, wet contours. I circled her nipples and felt them hard to the touch.

Her legs around me tightened and her fingers dug into my back with sweet pain and I knew she was beginning to climax.

"Oh Monica, you are beautiful, I want you, all of you." I was experiencing something that had eluded me for a long time now. The true way to be loved, emotional and physical passion. It began as a seed inside me and grew ever so slowly, I knew she felt it too. It wound its way through my body touching every nerve, every cell, filling my being until the ultimate. I burst out inside her with fury and I knew she felt hers too. It was done, a completed task, our first union was extraordinary. This night of passion will be remembered for ages to come.


The way John made love was like no other and I had to wonder why his wife ever left him.

He talked to me and caressed me gently with those big hands. He didn't talk dirty. He just told me how beautiful I was, how great I felt.

We moved in the same motion as his hard, throbbing cock entered me. Slow at first, then faster and harder.

"John!" I cried breathlessly. Our screams echoed in unison through the empty, dark house.

"Harder!" I encouraged him. He obeyed and the screams grew louder, both from him and from me.

I opened my eyes and looked into his, those blue pools staring intently into my Sherry browns. He looked so placid, even though he was moaning my name breathlessly. "John..." I mumbled, burying my face in his chest. My fingernails were digging into his back. This was the best damn sex I've ever had.

"Monica..." he said. "Oh...ooh..." Then we both came all at once, our juices flooding together, and he fell next to me breathlessly. I covered my face with my hands, wiping sweat away. We both now reeked of sex, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing.

He turned to face me and he wiped a strand of damp hair from my eyes. His hand stopped on my cheek, and his arm found its way around my waist again.

I kept looking at him, wondering why he had just broken the rules for me.


As I looked into her contented eyes I knew Monica had enjoyed that too. I relished this time after sex, the calm after the storm so to speak. It was a time to talk or to just soak in the atmosphere of the moment.

"Why John?" It was a simple phrase but I knew the depth underlying it. "Because it felt right. The time is right." I could see a smile and I knew I had said what she'd wanted to hear. It had also made me put into words what I had hidden away in the recesses of my brain for a while now.

My peripheral thoughts had been of Scully but I was starting to wonder if she was truly the one I wanted all along. I pulled her closer and her arms went round me as well. Our lips locked once more almost as a gesture of thanks.

The feel her body together with the black silk sheets was intoxicating. We dozed in each other's arms, all time and reality now a dream.



It must have been sometime after midnight that I heard it. Faintly at first then more loudly, the sound of laughter seemed to be just outside the bedroom door. I checked to see if Monica had heard it too but she was still sleeping, peacefully nestled into my shoulder. I lifted her head gently and rested it on the black pillowcase and got out of bed. She moved a little but then settled.

There it was again. The laughter seemed closer this time. My ears weren't deceiving me, it was definitely there, outside the door. My hand clasped the doorknob and I turned it slowly and pulled. The hallway was dim but if there had been anyone there I would have seen them. There was no one. Then the laughter was behind me. I turned to once again seeing nothing.

"John, what is it?" I heard Monica's drowsy voice coming from the bed. I didn't have to answer because now the laughter was all around us but nothing could be seen. "John!" Monica's voice was urgent. I raced over to the bed and held her in my arms. "I felt something touch me." Fear began to lap at our edges. I went for the lamp on the bedside table but it wouldn't light. "Wait here, I'll turn on the bedroom light." "John, hold me." Monica wouldn't let me go.


Although I lacked fear for ghosts or spirits, I clutched onto John. This was frightening me. The laughter...what had that ghost seen?

John took my hand and the laughter was still around us as we made our way over to the light switch. I felt John feeling on the wall for it, but it clicked on before he was even near it. I couldn't believe it. All around us-in the room, there was chaos. The fantasy books that littered the three shelves in the room were all floating in mid-air.

"Do you believe now?" I whispered, pressing my naked body against John's. The lights quickly flicked off, and John threw one of the black silk sheets around me.

"If it's true that ghosts don't like silk, you'll be safe," he said, starting to leave.

"John, no! Don't leave me here. Please."

"Monica, I don't want you getting hurt. Not after...well, now if you get hurt..." I wrapped him in the sheet with me, struggling to find him in the pitch black. Then we walked out the door together, feeling the walls to find the kitchen, where the candles were.

None of the lights turned on when I tried to flick them on as we made our way along. We finally reached the kitchen and found the candles we'd used for our 'romantic' dinner. Then we found the box of matches, stubbing our toes countless times. Once each candle was lit, I found the salt, one of the ingredients John had sprinkled in the chicken. I stood next to John in the silk sheet and spread the salt around us in a huge circle, making sure the sink was in front of us. He was confused as to what I was doing.

I plugged the sink and turned the water on. I sat the candles on the outside of the circle and fell to the floor inside of it, taking John's hands.

"From ghouls and ghosts and long legged beasts," I chanted the Cornish chant.

"And things that go bump in the night, Good Lord! Deliver us!"

"Come on, John! Chant!" We now were chanting in unison. I was scared to death of this ghost for the first time in my life, and it made me glad I knew all the things that keep ghosts away.


"From ghouls and ghosts and long leg ........ Monica, this is ridiculous. What's this going to do - bore the culprit to oblivion?"

"John, this is serious. I'm not joking here. Just hold me and chant." For her sake I obliged but I was no way convinced that this was a supernatural experience.

"Monica, how do you know it's a ghost? We've seen things and heard things here that could be easily be explained logically."

"How do you explain the bedroom then? All those books floating in mid air?"

"The light was only on for a moment, our eyes hadn't adjusted properly, we may have missed the strings suspending them from the ceiling."

"Granted, but this is real John, I can feel it. I know there is unrest here." She held me closer and began chanting again.

Just then there was a deafening sound from the door and a gust of furious wind gushed in encircling us and almost blowing our silk sheet away. Monica and myself clung even tighter waiting out the pinnacle of the storm. I was surprised that the salt circle seemed to work. On looking down not a grain of salt had moved and yet the wind was deafening and strong.

Monica was chanting more loudly now and I just knew I should join in. It seemed to work, the gust abated and all sound and activity returned to normal.

The kitchen was in chaos. Anything that hadn't been held down by weight or hooks had been hurled to disparate places around the room. Monica and myself stayed exactly where we were awaiting the next anticipated disturbance.

Just then there was a whirring sound behind us. We turned to see a blurry image of what looked like a teenage girl


"Wh-what do you want," I said rather than asked. She said nothing.

I could see her a bit more clearly now. She looked like the girl we saw in that one portrait.

"There was an accident here years ago," she said. John's hands tightened around my arm. "My parents...my father...accidentally...well , he accidentally shoved me down the stairs. When he was angry at me."

I wondered if it was an accident or not.

"They thought they'd be in so much trouble...so they hid me...my body...so I came and...I tried to tell them that they should take me out, but they didn't understand. So maybe you'll listen."

"Where..." I couldn't believe this. What warped minds those two other children must have. John was next to me, probably thinking this was some sort of trick with lights and mirrors and such.

"Library. Fireplace. Go. Please. I need to be at rest." She faded and I started to run to the library, but John grabbed my arm. "Monica, you don't believe this shit, do you?" I turned and went to the library. There was a lost soul to be saved.


Monica took our only sheet with her so I was standing there naked and cold. As I climbed the dark stairs to the bedroom I began my self-talk. What total bullshit! How could she be roped into believing all this crap? I've seen similar hoaxes before where there's been the projection of a ghost from a hidden camera. I'll check that out in the morning.

The salt circle thing got me though, the way it stayed when the rest of the room was filled with gusting wind. That was a trick that was hard to explain.

I found my pajama pants in my overnight bag and put them on laughing a little that I hadn't needed them until now. Suddenly the lights went on and I was almost blinded in the process. The sight I saw next was very strange. When we had left the room last the place had gone totally haywire. Books, ornaments, clothes were all scattered over various parts of the room but now everything was back to normal.

Who else was there in the house with us? Why would they have cleaned up this mess and why not have waited until morning? Monica was in the Library, she would have had no time to do this.

I began wondering if the Bowman's had planned all this just to have a good laugh at the FBI. If there indeed was someone from the family lurking here they were bound to know now that Monica and I had made love and slept together. The idea of someone knowing about this made me quite uncomfortable. I started having second thoughts about whether it should have happened in the first place. Damn male hormones! No, I couldn't hide behind that excuse, Monica was too smart for that. I knew I wanted to sleep with her again if she'd have me.

I thought I'd surprise her by finding her pajamas and taking them to her but I couldn't find anything in her bag that resembled sleepwear. That's strange, was she expecting to sleep with me tonight? C'mon John, you're jumping to conclusions, not every girl you come across wants to get into your pants.

I found one of my shirts and headed for the Library just knowing the scene I would see when I got there.


I stood stock still facing the scene in front of me. There was Monica sitting in front of the fireplace, bricks and ash were on the ground around her. In the midst of all the shit was what looked very much like the body of a child.

She looked up as I approached and I handed her the shirt. "John? This is for me?" She stood naked before me not caring that I was looking over her lovely body now bathed in light. She had long since discarded the sheet in favour of having easier access to remove the fireplace bricks. She was even more beautiful than I'd imagined and momentarily I forgot about the grizzly find before us in favour of looking over her soft curves and pale pink skin.

"That's so sweet." I missed her smile as I looked down to the petrified small body wrapped in what looked like what once had been a white sheet.

"So do you think it's her? The fourteen year old in the picture?" I stayed staring as Monica replied.

"It must be. She seems to be about the same height and there are some wisps of blond hair." Monica dressed as she spoke. "I'm not going to touch anything more. We'll have to wait for forensics to get here. Of course I didn't think to bring anything like evidence bags. So John, what should we do now?"

I couldn't believe how sexy she looked in my clothing. The last time someone had worn one of my shirts was so long ago. Deep in thought I hardly heard what she'd been saying.

"John," I was startled out of my pondering by a hand on my arm and a louder voice. "What do you think we should do now?"

Well I was in two minds. My FBI mind said that we needed to get forensics out here now even at this early hour of the morning. My male hormonal mind said I wanted to make more wild love to this woman, and ring in the morning, screw the fact that there was a dead body lying here in the Library.


When John was silent, I stopped beating around the bush. Asking 'What do you want to do now' was not working. Guess I'd have to make the first move.

"Come on John," I smiled, leaning in closer. "Let's go upstairs."

He put his hands on my thighs and ran his left hand up my right leg so that it was under my knee. He lifted my leg and I wrapped it around him, as he did the same with the other leg. I smiled as he carried me back to the bedroom.

The last time someone had done that was...well, a long, long time ago. Maybe college. Brad was always strip down the clothes and get it over with. Like the dentist's office. Sit back, relax, you won't feel a thing (I stole that from "Everybody Loves Raymond.") But John had given me several orgasms earlier that night, he'd kept me flying. I loved this man so much. His fingers were now running through my hair, twirling it and tucking it behind my ears.

"What are you doing?" I smiled. "You seem more interested in grooming me than 'getting it on'." "I like your hair," he whispered.

He laid me on the bed and whipped off the shirt that I'd put on only minutes earlier. His hand trailed up my body, sending shivers over me. And his fingers finally stopped on my left breast as he leaned down to tease my right nipple with his tongue. I arched and moaned as he did so, and his hand moved down as he lifted his mouth. His fingers entered me for the second time that night.

"Ohhh...John..." his thumb flicked against my hard clit as his fingers went in and out this time, as opposed to the circular motion earlier. I wanted to make this up to him. But there was nothing I could do, it seemed, but maybe give him another blowjob. What else could you do for a guy, anyway? Especially one that was previously a best friend, nothing more.

I finally got an idea. His pants were still on, but I could feel his cock growing harder against my leg.

"John," I hoarsely whispered as his fingers exited me. "What's your fantasy?"


As I picked her up, one leg at a time I could already feel myself swelling in my pants. My desire for her was growing again, and yes, screw the fact that there was a dead body down here. It wasn't going anywhere real fast. Who's to know we hadn't found it in the morning! I justified my non-FBI actions.

The way she made the decision for us so confidently was so erotic. The way she looked at me, her eyelids slowly blinking and the way she asked me upstairs in an amazingly sexy voice was hard to resist. I knew that very soon we would be making music together that surpassed the ages. Our bodies just worked so well together.

As I carried her up the stairs my hands worked their way under the shirt to feel her butt. It was quite well toned for someone so slim. She fitted comfortably in my hands. My eyes didn't waver from hers, my desire being reflected in her dilated pupils.

I lay her on the bed really wanting just fuck her silly now but this was not the right time for that. Feeling over her body was a wonderful precursor to sex, I'd learnt that women often enjoyed a slow start, working up to the pinnacle. I knew I could hold off until she was ready.

Then she said something quite unexpected and it made my body spasm with delight and anticipation. <<What's your fantasy?>>

Well, many thoughts went through my mind, most of them too early for this burgeoning relationship. I settled on something I'd never experienced before but I just knew Monica would have no qualms. I decided to show her what I wanted.

I gave her a sideways look, whipped my fingers out of her and placed her fingers where mine had just left. I leant down and whispered in her ear,

"I want you to play with yourself for me."

Her expression told me a hundred words. I knew she wanted to do this for me and that the thought of it turned her on.

She turned over onto all fours and spread her legs giving me full view of what I would be conquering soon. With one hand she began stroking herself slowly at first and moaning my name. She moved her fingers over her swollen, wet clit and inside her vagina. Minutes went by as she became more and more aroused. I just had to rest my hands on her butt as she gently rocked her hips watching and breathing.

"John, I want you now." She had fulfilled a fantasy of mine and I now knew we'd share many more. Instinctively I sensed she was on the brink of sexual release so I pulled down my pants and thrust my throbbing manhood into her hotness. The moans grew louder as I pumped her, all the while running my hands over her sides and hips.

"This is so good," she breathed her delight of this union.

Her moans were primal as I felt pulsing on my sensitive cock. I knew she was orgasming and this sent the required messages to my brain. I too felt a rush of emotions and filled her up with all my love. This woman was love incarnate. My emotions overwhelmed me and I slumped down on her hot body resting my head on her still heaving back.

I stayed there comfortably, waiting for her next move.


I'd never masturbated for an audience before. The idea was sort of exciting, but sort of weird. The way John said it...

//I want you to play with yourself for me.// So...un-John Doggett. But I wanted to please him, after what he'd done for me and after what we were going to do again.

As I sat there, moaning his name and playing with myself, I watched him get hotter. I was getting hotter too.

Till I finally breathed the words and we came together...again. I loved him so much.

When we finally collapsed, I thrust my arm over his chest and began playing with the small, barely visible fuzz there.

He looked at me. He gave me one of those way deep looks that makes you want to throw yourself at him, and I thought for a moment he was ready to go again. So I straddled his stomach, but he made no movements.

I looked at him there, surely God's best creature. My insides were screaming it. But I knew I couldn't...not after just one night of excellent love-making.

I wanted to, though. And I wanted him to. I lay down on him so my mouth was by his ear and I whispered,

"John...I love you."


Did I hear correctly? Did I hear her say she loves me? I looked at her for confirmation and her smiling face said it all.

"Monica," I'm not sure how she took my tone. I tried to let it say <<how could you love me after so little time>> at the same time not wanting to hurt her.

I could see that I had hurt her. She was probably expecting me to say I loved her too but how could I feel that way in such a short time? I hugged her to my chest, kissed her cheek and ran my face through her hair.

"So you don't love me." She lifted her head and looked deeply into my eyes. This made me stay focussed rather than diverting my attention which I wanted to do.

"I really like you Monica, I want to be with you and the sex is so good." "But you don't love me."

"I think we should take this slowly. We both know that this will not just be a one night stand. I want this to continue just as much as you do." I could see that she was a little disappointed that I didn't feel more for her than I did, so I again hugged her tightly and spoke into her hair. "Monica, you must know that after the break up of my marriage I can't just jump so easily into another long term relationship."

She let out that breath I'd felt welling up inside her.

"Yes John, I understand. If you're willing to work at this then I'll be happy. I just want to be with you."

"We also need to think of the implications this will have on our jobs." We both chuckled imagining the faces at work if they knew what had really happened tonight in this haunted house.

"C'mon, let's sleep. We'll talk more in the morning." She gave me a heart felt kiss on the lips and slid down beside me, nestling her head on my shoulder.

We both heard the whispers of the night as we faded into dreamland.

<<thank you John and Monica. thank you for saving me.>>


At first all I could think was, "Asshole! Is this all he thinks that this is? Good sex? He really *likes* me? He's no different than Brad!"

I was still upset after he told me his...reasoning...but I tried not to show it. So I stayed close beside him even though I felt like bawling. Why do I fall in love so easily? Brad...John...the number of guys in High School and college...it wasn't fun always having a one sided relationship.

I loved them, they *liked* me. They liked the sex. But they never loved me. It was all too much to think about right now. As I drifted to sleep, I toyed with waking John up and confiding in him.

"No, it's too *soon* for that." I thought coldly. I looked at him, sleeping peacefully. I sighed and shook him awake. I knew I was going to have to get this off my chest.

"Huh? Monica, is something wrong?" he sat upright when I shook him.

"No...well, yes."

"What is it?" He swept me in closer and gazed at me.

"Is it...is it so hard to believe that a person can fall in love right away? I know you don't believe in love at first sight, but it's possible. And besides, what if I *have* loved you. I can't make you love me, but the least you could do is say something other than 'I really like you.' Maybe, 'I love you as a friend, but I'm not *in* love with you.' Or something like that, but not 'I really like you.' Goddammit John, I say my feelings. I give you my heart and soul and you can't even look in my eyes! Do you see the problem there? Is that all this meant to you? Sex, because you 'really like' me?" Whoa. Where were these words coming from? And why the hell was he smiling? Did he think I was 'cute' when I acted like a blood-sucking bitch from hell?

"Monica, I said that I-"

"No, John..." I said. "Don't speak. I'm just...I'm going to go to sleep. I'm sorry, okay? I'll go to one of the other bedrooms."

I stood up to leave but he grabbed my wrist and pulled me close to him and kissed my lips. I watched him when he pulled away, and he was watching me.

What was he thinking? And more importantly...what was he going to say?


I wasn't sure what I could say to make her feel any better. I couldn't just take back what I'd said that had hurt her <<I really like you>> and change it to <<I really do love you>>. That would not be fair to her and it certainly wouldn't change anything for the better.

Maybe I do love her, I don't know, I'm confused. I've had feelings for Dana for so long. I can't just dismiss those. Then I thought about it. If Dana came up to me now and said she loved me and wanted to spend her life with me what would I do? Damn it! Monica and myself were going to have to talk. How could I mislead her like this? I had to be honest with her.

Should I wake her up or just wait until morning? It was always so damn hard to work out what women wanted. Us males were always doing or saying the wrong thing.

I lay there for quite a while thinking, obviously a little too long because I felt a tear then a few more on my shoulder. Her fingers pressed into my ribs. She was trying not to show her distress but it came out as small vibrations on my chest.

"Monica," I tried to lift her to make eye contact but she stayed crying softly into my chest. "Monica baby." I placed both my arms around her, cradling her as she let it flow. " I want to be honest with you. Will you let me do that?" She didn't reply but I spoke anyway.

"I have loved Dana for a long time now." She moved her head up and I knew she was going to say something but I wasn't finished. "No baby, listen to me first. I *have* loved her but I'm not *in love* with her any more. I know that now. I want you. I want you to be the love of my life."

"Please John, don't just say that because you feel you have to." Her eyes sparkled from the tears. She looked angelic in the pale light.

"Maybe I am in love with you, I don't know. All I know now is that you are the most beautiful woman in the world, I love the way you speak your mind, I love your humour, I love the way you love me. Monica Reyes I want you to be happy and I never want you to leave me."

It was difficult to gauge her reaction to my last comments. Did she believe me? Did they make her feel any better than she had been feeling before she began to cry?

With my lips just touching her cheek I said this as softly and as genuinely as I could. "Monica, I mean every word I just said."


I felt her nestle into my shoulder and her body visibly relax on mine. She gave a sniffle and then I felt light kisses over my chest.

Her hand snaked over my stomach and an arm rested there.

At this point I know I'd said the right things to comfort her. They were not just the idle words she wanted to hear, they were genuine, from my heart. I knew now that I was over my feelings for Dana Scully, I'd moved on. I was now free bodily and emotionally to explore the new relationship with my partner Monica Reyes.

It had its implications but they could be considered at another time. All I wanted to do now was sleep. Finally I had found someone not only to share my bed but share my heart.

Drifting into dreamland and holding her close my final thoughts were of the night before, in bed alone, feeling the empty space beside me. Now that space had been filled and I felt a sweet contentment I hadn't felt in a long, long time.



I suppose I half expected it. When I woke John was not beside me. I just imagined him as an early riser. I smiled thinking about how our very different personalities and ways of life would add some conflict and depth to our growing ties.

I heard the shower running and felt an overwhelming urge to join him there. The image of John's naked body glistening with wet, hot beads of water was so appealing. My slippery, soapy hands feeling over his tight bumps and curves was just too evil to think about this time in the morning. I sighed and stretched, my arms reaching out to where my lover had laid with me all night. The soft black silk on my body made me feel very sexy. Wrapping the sheets around me I rolled around in the bed imagining it was his body rolling with me. I came to rest on his pillow and took in a breath of him.

Last night's words came flooding back to me. He didn't love me. My spirits limboed for a moment feeling a little disappointed but then he did go on to say all the things he did love about me. There was hope yet. So I am the most beautiful woman in the world to him. My spirits rose as I once again took in his wonderful scent. What a lucky woman I was to have made love to and slept with this man. I dissolved into the sheets again.

Then it dawned on me, after the upheaval this poltergeist had caused last night, we'd had no more disturbances. I'd partly expected it, finding her body had calmed her spirit somewhat. Today John and myself would need to confront the Bowmans. The girl had said that falling down the stairs had been an accident. For the Bowmans' sakes I hope that's true. The other girls, where do they fit into the picture? I wondered how this would all pan out.


I smiled when I heard the shower door open and felt a gush of cool air over my back and knew it wasn't the ghost from last night.

"I wondered how long it would take you, Mon." I felt her hot eyes staring over the image before her, then I felt her hands around me from the back, down over my chest and over my stomach. The way she moved down lower through my pubic hair and ever so slight touching my penis was doing things to me I hadn't felt this early in the morning for a while. I leant back into her and she kissed the back of my neck. She tantalised my lobe with her tongue and purred in my ear,

"Is there anywhere you've missed?" If that wasn't enough to get me going she then proceeded to rub something cool on me which turned out to be liquid soap she'd found in one of the bathroom cupboards.

"Oh Monica, we can never be too clean." I turned my head to kiss her then my whole body came around with it. It was happening all over again. How was I possibly going to keep my hands off her during the day and at work? She lathered up my back and ass as we kissed. I smiled in her mouth as she spent a little too much time on my butt. Everywhere was wet and hot including our mouths. I knew I was going to have to take her again but it was a little tricky in this wet, slippery place.


The image in my mind of Johns' naked, wet, steamy body next to mine in the shower excited me beyond words as I found the liquid soap and went to open the shower door. It was still fairly early. We'd agreed to meet the Bowmans at ten, that still left a couple of hours and I knew we had time to play. The sight that greeted me was much more than anticipated. This man was a god. He faced towards the tiles that left time to feast my eyes over the broad shoulders and muscles of his arms and back and down to that taut ass. The way he soaped himself let the muscles ripple, glistening through the water spray.

So he knew I couldn't resist, how did he know me so well? I didn't speak at first, I just had to touch the body that had given me so much pleasure last night. I kissed his neck as I moved my hands down over his chest and down being careful to tease rather than touch. I wanted him in me again so badly but I also wanted to play with him first. I took a dollop of soap and as we kissed I lathered his back and down over his butt.

The last time I'd had sex in the shower was probably with Brad. It was not the same. It was all over before we had the chance to get clean. But this..this was something else.

Our bodies sparked together as skin moved against skin.

"You are perfect Monica," he said while washing over my shoulders then down my arms. He turned me around and soaped over my breasts. I leant back letting him take control of my body. He ran his hands in a circular motion and I encouraged him down lower with my throaty growls of pleasure.


The feel of her writhing, sexually primed body underneath my fingertips and her obvious enjoyment of our intimacy sent out overpowering messages to my already stiff member. This woman was delicious to feel and she wanted me. She'd said she loved me. How could this be and so soon? I knew from past experiences with women that an "I love you" during or after lovemaking was usually due to the intensity of the event. I chalked it up to erotically charged hormones for now. All I knew was that I wanted this woman in my life and she seemed more than willing to be part of mine.

Our sex in the shower worked naturally. She wrapped her arms around my neck and I lifted underneath her legs and leant her against the tiles as gently as I could.

"I'm not hurting you am I?" I had to know she was comfortable with this. Her contented, delirious smiling was enough confirmation.

I found her warm, wet entrance easily and once again felt elation as I pushed inside. She felt tight on me, just the right friction. Her body took me in perfectly as I began to rock.

This was not just sex for me. I felt a bond here with this woman, my X-Files partner. I had been attracted to women in the past but the sex wasn't always as great. I was drawn to this woman and the sex was so hot I couldn't imagine myself ever unlinking from her.

No, this must be my hormones talking. This was not love yet, not so soon. If I confessed love it would be for a lifetime. Was I prepared for a lifetime with this woman? These thoughts were pushed into my subconscious as I felt my body lose control and shoot my seed out into her spasming loins.


It took a long time before I could stand. The intensity of my orgasm had drained all the blood from my legs. John knew this and patiently held me until I was ready. I just had to say it again. I could leave the bathroom without speaking my mind. It was the truth and I had to tell him again.

As we towel dried each other I mentioned once again that I loved him.

He just looked into my eyes with an ever so slight furrow of the brow. I knew that skeptical look of John's by now and I was a little hurt that he didn't believe me or even trust me enough to be honest with him.

"John, you're looking at me as though you don't believe me." "Monica, I...." he was shaking his head not quite knowing how to respond without hurting me.

"Look John, I'm old enough and experienced enough now to know my feelings and if I say I love you then I do."

He went to speak but I just put a finger to his lips.

"... and, I find it hard to believe that you cannot tell me you love me too." With another one of his cute puppydog expressions he let me continue,

"John, last night and this morning have been so special to me. Our lovemaking has been more than good, it has been fucking marvellous." He went to talk again but I stopped him with a kiss and a hug, putting as much emotion into the embrace as I could muster. I wanted to show him I was genuine. Then I finished with another statement before I let him respond.

"When have you ever made love to someone that intensely before and not have loved them?"


I almost felt like saying <<let me take a raincheck on that.. but I knew Monica wouldn't let me get away with that.

We dressed then stripped the bed. It was all too much taking those sexy, black silk sheets from their *home* but we also didn't want the evidence from last night's forbidden lust to come back and haunt us.

It was now 9.30 and we were having some breakfast we'd found in the Bowman's food pantry.

"Now John, I've given you enough time to ponder my question. How can last night and this morning in the shower just have been sex to you? I felt love in all your actions John."

I would have much preferred if she'd forgotten she'd asked me this question but I knew Monica had a very good memory especially when she wanted her way.

"John, I know you've thought about it, I've been watching you. Come on let's talk about it."

I'd opened my mouth to speak when we heard footsteps and voices in the hallway.


Saved by the bell! Isn't that the expression?

John was about to tell me that he really did love me, now this would have to wait. There would be times to talk later especially after this case was cleared up. I slightly resented the fact that the Bowman's were early.

I could imagine John clapping imaginary hands at the perfect timing.

"Hello?" I could hear a male voice.

"In here!" Mr. Bowman appeared tentatively around the kitchen door. His wife followed close behind. I couldn't help but think this was the face of a killer but I knew I must not pre-judge. Maybe it truly was an accidental death and the Bowmans didn't know that it was their dead daughter that had unfinished business with them.



I heard the voices in the hallway but was a little disappointed I couldn't straighten this misunderstanding out now.

I'd thought about Monica's question and was going to respond but the voices had interrupted us. I could see the look of <<typical timing>> on Reyes' face and knew I had to talk with her as soon as possible about all the feelings I had bottled up inside of me over all these years. It was only fair I clear the air now rather than our relationship getting out of hand.

"Agent Doggett? Agent Reyes?" Mr. Bowman entered the kitchen with wife close behind. I noticed they'd seen we'd helped ourselves to breakfast and also saw they didn't mind. They had one thing on their minds or was it two things? I tried to read their expressions.

They obviously wanted us to talk first so I decided to be direct.

"Tell us about your other daughter." They at first looked surprised then pulled a couple of chairs from under the kitchen table and sat.

"You saw the photos!" Mr. Bowman spoke. "She was such a beautiful daughter, so tragic." I noticed the genuine look of sadness on Mrs. Bowman's face.

"Tell us about her Mrs. Bowman." Maybe they truly didn't know that it was their dead daughter who was responsible for all the misdemeanours they had experienced over the last two years.

"How did she die?"

I looked for any deviation in his expression after this question but saw none. That surprised me.


How could I break it to these people that it was their dead daughter who had been upsetting their lives. She, somehow, had unfinished business that she had to settle here in this house before she could move on to the next realm of being.

"Mr. and Mrs. Bowman," I took a deep breath before continuing. "You need to come with us." I took John's hand unthinkingly, still partly in lover mode, and led us all to the Library. I let them take in everything around them before I spoke.

I could tell they knew something about this discovery and that it wasn't all a surprise to them. I was also pleased now they'd come here early, before the investigation, so we could talk about this in private.

Mrs. Bowman bent over the mummified body almost laying a hand on it.

"Oh Emily, we're so sorry."

I felt for her. I could feel her pain and I knew then that she had some knowledge of how the body of her daughter had come to be here.

"Mrs. Bowman?" I placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "What happened here?" She broke down crying and I led her to a comfortable seat and let her cry it out.

All this time John had been watching Mr. Bowman and his actions. Didn't the ghost of his dead daughter say he had been angry and pushed her down the stairs? If this were true then this would need further investigation.

Mr. Bowman spoke,

"We don't actually know what happened to Emily. We were out for the evening and had left our three girls home alone. When we came home we found her at the base of the stairs dead. Of course we panicked. Instead of ringing the police we decided to hide her body and tell everyone she'd gone to live with her grandparents up north. In hindsight we regretted our actions but by then it was too late."

"Mr. Bowman," I decided to speak next. "The hauntings, it's your daughter here who has been responsible."

They were suitably surprised. "But how?" "Have you heard of the term *poltergeist*, Mr. And Mrs. Bowman?"

I proceeded to relate to them the happenings of the previous evening, without the romantic part of course and watched their looks of curiosity change to understanding.


I don't know if the Bowman's noticed but I had on my skeptical face again. They looked genuinely surprised about the occurrences.

"Why didn't she just talk to us? Why should she show herself to you and not us?" Mrs Bowman asked.

Monica replied, "Maybe she had been trying to contact you. All the hauntings were signs that she wanted to tell you something. Your confusion and fear blinded you. It just took fresh faces like ours to see the truth." The husband and wife looked at each other then Mr. Bowman spoke,

"How can we right this tragedy. What can we do to make amends?"

Monica's response just blew me away and also made me realise what a mismatched pair we were, the skeptic and the believer. How could a relationship based on opposites work?

"We will need to contact your daughter somehow, so you can communicate with her."

"How?" "How people normally communicate with the dead, a séance."



The Bowmans were eager to settle this and move on with their lives so they agreed to participate in the séance. I asked that they contact their other daughters and have them present too. If the whole family participated I felt there was more of a chance that this would all be resolved quickly. They also may know more about Emily's accident to shed light on the events of that evening two years earlier.

John went off to ring Skinner and the Bowmans went to pick up their daughters from their friends' homes where they'd been staying overnight. I made the séance arrangements.

Before they'd left I'd asked the Bowmans to leave some things behind for me. I got out the large sheet of white paper and wrote all the letters of the alphabet around the edges and the numbers one to nine inside. In the middle I drew three circles and wrote 'YES', 'NO' and '?'. Underneath these I drew one more circle as the 'home' position.

Normally it is suggested for séances to take place outside the home in say a hotel just in case something is *released* but in this circumstance I wasn't sure this ghost could be summoned anywhere but here. I decided the bedroom was the place to be. This was where the Bowman's had said that there had been the most paranormal activity. It must have been Emily's room before she died. I also knew it must have been she who'd tidied the room again after she'd made contact with us the previous night.

I found a piece of board out in the garage and placed it on the floor and lay the paper out on top of it. This was to overcome any friction as we moved to the letters. I closed all the curtains, making the room darker. We didn't want any of the distractions of the day to interrupt the proceedings.

After I placed the candle, matches and glass on the paper the séance equipment was all prepared. It was now a matter of waiting for the Bowmans to return.


What a lot of hooey! I wasn't sure if I should or needed to join in the séance but Monica insisted I be there. She said something about Emily having revealed herself to both of us and that she was comfortable with us. I found it hard to believe all this crap let alone a ghost being comfortable with me.

I didn't expect anything to eventuate from this activity but at least having the whole family together we could question them before the authorities arrived.

If we were going to leave the body where it was for the time being I felt it only fair to ring Skinner and let him know of the progress of the case. I decided to walk out into the backyard to call. The fresh air was a welcome change to the confines of the house and I must admit having a dead body lying there was a little creepy.

Skinner agreed to keep quiet about the findings until after the séance and followed my reasoning. I promised to call him as soon as I knew more details. As I hung up I knew we had a little time before the Bowmans would be back.

The backyard was not large but well planned out. There was a paved barbecue area in one corner and in another a comfortable looking swing seat. The grass was a lush green and there was a variety of sweet smelling flowering shrubs around the edges. Very pleasant I thought. I moved over to the swing seat and sat relaxing my sore muscles. Sore muscles? Why were my muscles sore? Then I smiled remembering back to the wicked sex Monica and myself had recently. My eyes closed momentarily and I smiled feeling a delicate breeze on my face.

I now knew what I was going to tell Monica, I just had to wait for the right time.


There was that goofy half grin again; the one that I'd learned to adore. What was he thinking? I hoped it was about me. I'd decided not to make the next move, asking about his feelings for me. It was up to him now. I didn't want to harp on the issue even though I was anxious to find out. He had obviously thought about it, what could I do now to change his mind? Well there were a number of things really. I looked at my watch and realised we had about half an hour before the Bowman's return.

"John, thought I'd find you here." He opened his eyes and his smile became broader. My heart melted at this simple gesture. Then he reached out for me and pulled me into his lap.

"You've finished all the preparations?" He clasped his hands around my waist and squinted a little at me. "Yes, we're all set and with half an hour to spare." I rested an arm around his shoulders. "So what did you have in mind to occupy us for thirty minutes?" That goofy smile came back. "Oh, we could play Monopoly," I teased. "What about Twister?" he joked. "As long as the aim is to get totally tangled up with you John Doggett." "Isn't that the aim of the game?" We both laughed.

"You know, it's a bit of a pity we were a little too quick to get those sexy silk sheets to the laundry." He gave me a squeeze. "Oh Mr. Doggett, I do believe I know what you're thinking. We don't have to have a bed for that you know." "We don't?" he feigned surprise.

The thought of making love with John out here in this pleasant garden setting, the warm sun and gentle breeze on our skin was delightful. I decided to make the first move and went in for a kiss. As we brushed lips I smelt his wonderful aftershave and my temperature quickly rose. I'd had the pleasure of smelling this delightful scent before - it was my notion of the beddable John. The fantasies that this scent had sparked in the past were numerous.

As our kiss grew more passionate I moved around so that my legs were either side of his hips. He broke the kiss and looked into my eyes. That look was love, it was a look I'd never seen on another man before but I'd always craved deeply. I traced his eyebrows with my fingertip, then down over his nose to his still wet lips. He kissed my finger, lightly sucking the tip, then buried his head in my chest. He felt over my breasts with his face and I leant into him, wanting his face to be next to my bare skin.

As if by magnetism my hands went up to my buttons and I slowly undid one, then the next while his eager face watched. When my shirt was off he nuzzled my nipples with his nose then lightly bit them sending a voltage through my chest and down to between my legs. His hand went up behind me and I felt him tug at my bra clasp. Once off I felt the cool breeze where his mouth left a trail, first over one nipple then the next, then in circles around them. I found my hands aimlessly running through his hair.


Her breasts were like honey in my mouth. I couldn't leave them but when other parts of me were screaming out for attention I was compelled to leave them behind. There would be many more times I could explore their boundaries more fully. Her skin on my fingertips was like silk as I traced over her shoulders and down her back to the rim of her pants. I slid my fingertips underneath silently saying I wanted to feel down further.

She got up and excruciatingly slowly slid out of her pants accentuating the shape of her hips and the height of her arousal for me. I knew she want to undress me too because when I went for my belt buckle she just shook her head. Just as slowly she took off my clothes, feeling over every patch of skin as she did so.

My cock was so huge and bursting by the time we were bare that I thought I wouldn't make inside her. I willed myself to hold on. Once again she sat over me, knees just touching my hips. Then she moved down on me very slowly at first just so the head was inside. I wanted to thrust up to totally fill her but I could tell she wanted control. Ever so slowly she inched her way down on my aching cock at the same time looking into my eyes. She wanted to see the pleasure I was receiving from her sexual attention. I didn't disappoint, this was pure heaven.

"Monica, I .." My heartbeat was galloping and I just had to move. With my hands still feeling her feathery thighs and my ears hearing her moans and sighs I moved my hips in faster motion to meet hers.

"Oh John, I do love you." She leaned into my face as she let me do more work. I knew it was true. She did love me and I felt proud that she loved me so much that she would give me all this sexual pleasure. I breathed my very hot breath on her chest and knew she was about to come when her movements slowed and her sighs became softer. I couldn't hold on any more. My brain told me this was the right time for mutual satisfaction and I was right. Her body was motionless except for her ragged breathing and her insides pulsating on me. What I felt then I knew was love for this woman. For me to want to make love to her this desperately, to want her to be sated by me, to crave her body so close to mine this must be love.

The gentle breeze helped cool our fiery bodies. I didn't want to move from this position and I could tell Monica didn't either so we stayed like that as long as we dared.



The girls looked the same as their photos just a little older and had personalities to match. We were introduced to the older snarly one with the *makeup* as Diana and the younger, bubbly, blond, curly haired sister as Claire.

We all sat on the floor around the outside of the paper.

"Okay, let's decide on what we're going to ask and who asks it. I suggest going first as I've been involved with séances before and know how they're run and I say we ask the questions in turn and stay very polite." We all talked about the possible questions then I lit the candle and placed the upturned glass over it for a few seconds.

Placing the glass on the 'home' circle we each placed a finger lightly on top.

I went first.

"Are there any spirits there?" At first there was nothing. I could tell the family was a little on edge. "Just relax and give it a chance to work." I repeated the question and this time the glass moved to the 'YES' circle. I knew John wanted to say that we pushed it there but he thankfully remained quiet.

Mrs. Bowman asked, "Is that you Emily?" The glass moved away then moved back to the 'YES'. I could feel the nervousness of the family now. "Where are you sweetheart?" The glass moved to the 'D', then the 'A' until it spelt out the word 'DARK'.

Mr. Bowman asked his question, "Emily, can you see us?" The glass once again moved to the 'YES'.

Claire was next, "How are you feeling Emily?" The glass moved to the letters to spell the word 'COLD' then continued to spell out 'ANGRY'. "Why are you angry?" Other words were spelt out which shed light on Emily's plight. She really believed that her father had accidentally pushed her down the stairs but he just kept shaking his head.


It was my turn now, "Emily, John here, did you get a good look at who pushed you? How do you know it was your dad?" The letters spelt out 'SUIT'. Mr. Bowman kept shaking his head and then whispered,

"Emily, it wasn't me I promise you. I came home and found you at the bottom of the stairs." The glass moved to the '?'.

"Looks like Emily is confused." Monica decided to talk to explain Emily's response. The two girls at this stage were shuffling a little too much and I just knew they were both hiding something. "Emily, did you see who was wearing the suit?" The glass moved to the 'NO'.

At this point Diana, the older sister got up and stamped her foot.

"This is total nonsense! I want out, I'm going down to get a drink." Just then there was a gust of wind together with a deafening noise and the contents of the bedroom began to be hurled around the air. Diana could only sit down again or she'd be knocked in the head by the flying books and ornaments.

I continued even though I still believed this was a hoax, "Emily, we're only here to help. We want as much as you do for your spirit to be at rest." At these words the room settled and the glass began to move again. The 'D' was first, then an 'I'. No one needed to see the other letters because Diana was beginning to cry out.

"It was an accident! Please don't do this Emily! I'm so sorry! I didn't know this would happen. It was all just a silly accident!" Then there was some light in the room and Emily appeared before them all. The family was all open mouthed with awe.

The ghost walked around the six people sitting on the floor and stopped by her big sister's side and then spoke with a whisper and a smile,

"I forgive you Diana." She leant down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Emily then went to each of the family members and hugged them. They said later that they couldn't feel her bodily but they could feel her presence.

As soon as Emily had confirmation from Monica that all would be revealed and that she'd get the burial and blessing she craved her spirit disappeared and all was calm again.



It was now early evening and the FBI team of investigators had all come and gone. They'd assured the Bowmans that there would be consequences for the hiding of the body for the last two years and the covering up of Emily's death. They all agreed that this was necessary and yet they were relieved that the visitations would cease now and their lives could get back to some sort of normalcy. Emily's spirit would now be at rest.

I looked across to John as he shook the Bowmans' hands before we were just about to leave. This had been some ordeal for him. I utterly believed in the reality of all that had happened. Emily had been a real poltergeist but I knew John would be churning all the events over in his brain coming up with some sort of logical *explanation*. I knew now it was not worth trying to convince him, he would make up his own mind all in good time. Maybe another year or two having worked on a number of X-Files cases similar to this he would come to *believe* just as I do.

I smiled as he walked over towards me. He was such a handsome, lovable man. I cherished the way he was, he didn't need to have the same beliefs as I for me to love him deeply. Our differences would only enhance our relationship, make it exciting and unpredictable, just the way I always wanted a relationship with my man to be. My past affiliations, including with Brad were just so mundane and ordinary in the end.

John picked up both our bags, placed a hand lightly on my back and led me out the door to our awaiting car. I looked back over my shoulder to see the four family members in a group hug and I smiled feeling warm inside that John and myself had changed their lives around for the better. Their family ties had strengthened because of us and unknowingly they had brought John and myself together.


It didn't take too much convincing for Monica to agree to dinner out at an expensive restaurant to chat about the case and to celebrate our newly found affection for each other. It took even less convincing for her to agree to stay in my bed overnight. I wanted to talk with her, really talk with her, and the intimacy of my bed was exactly the right place to do this.

Lying in bed with my naked partner in my arms I remembered back to my thoughts here in the same bed only two nights earlier. I'd felt the empty space beside me and wondered who would be the woman to grace those sheets. I suppose all along I knew that it would be Monica. I had been holding onto the ghost that was a possible relationship between Dana and me while all along reality had been staring me in the face. I also pondered back to my other thoughts at the time.

"So Monica, do you believe in fate or coincidence?" I could tell my depth of thought surprised her. "You're asking me if it was fate or coincidence that brought us together?" I nodded to her.

"As you know I like to stay open to both possibilities. Yes, I think there was a little fate here. You have to admit there were events no matter how subtle that have led up to us being together. To just dismiss these as random occurrences would deny the significance of the events. So yes, it's partly fate but I also believe there many coincidences in our lives. Without random events occurring around us the world would be too predictable, too ordinary. A mixture of fate and coincidence adds a spark to our existence."

I could see the logic behind Monica's thoughts and knew then I wanted her with me forever. I wanted to make love to her again but knew what I had to tell her couldn't wait. It was bursting out of me. It had been bubbling on the surface all evening.

"John?" She'd seen my change in composure. "Do you have something to tell me?" I turned over on my side so we were face to face. The expectation in her open eyes told me she knew.

"Monica, I truly do love you." Her face brimmed with joy and I knew it was because these were the words she'd wanted to hear.

"There, that wasn't so hard to say, was it!" She hugged me with all her strength and joy then looked back at me.

"... and John Doggett. I love you so much and I want to be with you forever." I hugged her back burying my face in her dark silky hair taking in its sweet scent.

"This is not going to be easy you know Monica. We'll need to talk about how this is all gonna work."

"You mean being partners and lovers?" She smiled sweetly and kissed my cheek. "Well we'll just have to leave that all up to fate."

We fell asleep that night without making love but we were both secure in the fact that our mutual affection meant there'd be many more chances in the future.


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