Title: Unspoken Truths
Author: Scifinerdgrl
Rating: G 
Category: SR
Keywords: Post-Episode (William), Doggett/Reyes relationship,
Reyes/Scully friendship
Summary: Reyes and Doggett react to the implications of "William"
Spoilers: William
Archive: Please ask, please tell
Feedback: scifinerdgrl@yahoo.com or scifinerdgrl@hotmail.com



Ever since the day she drove Dana Scully home from the adoption
agency, Monica Reyes had been avoiding her friend. As an adoptee
herself, she felt she *should* look optimistically at the adoption of
her godson, but she just couldn't. He would be loved, just as she had
been, and Scully's mind would be at ease knowing her unusual child
would be safe, but although she knew there was love behind the
decision it still didn't sit well.

Because knowing wasn't feeling. And what Monica felt was the most
intense grief she'd ever felt. It was silly, she scolded herself. He
wasn't *her* child, after all. But she missed him. She missed
babysitting for him, and playing with him, and she even missed seeing
the pictures that had been multiplying on Dana's desk since the day
she helped bring the baby into the world.

And she mourned for her own chance to watch the boy grow up. It would
be a vicarious joy, of course, because it looked less and less likely
that she would have a child of her own, but it would have been joy
nonetheless. And although she knew she shouldn't feel this way, she
was angry with Dana for taking away this joy she had so openly shared
with her.

John noticed, of course. He had his own feelings on the matter,
remarkably similar feelings. But just like Monica, he chose to keep
his own counsel. Who was he to pass judgment on Dana Scully? His own
son had been abducted and killed, and William had nearly suffered the
same fate. The world was a dangerous place for any child, but
especially for this one. How could he fault a parent for wanting her
child to be safe?

But he couldn't help being a little angry. After all, he'd protected
the little tyke since before he was born, and during a few weak
moments he'd even fantasized about being his stepfather. But then
Mulder came back, and the Scully he knew vanished under the spell of
his charm. He kept a respectful distance as her due date drew near,
and then afterward, when Mulder took off for god-knows-where, she
kept had kept John at a distance. She'd kept eveyone at a distance,
he reminded himself, but it still hurt that the woman who'd counted
on him to watch her back now treated him with suspicion.

So when Scully came to John and Monica's office three weeks after the
adoption, John was suprised.

"I happened to be in the building and thought I'd drop by," she said
with forced friendliness.

"Hi," Monica said, looking up from her computer. She wanted to be
friendly and welcoming, but she just couldn't. Not yet.

"Dana!" John said, a little too loudly. He jumped up from his seat
and gestured for her to enter. Scully wasn't fooled by his overly
enthusiastic welcome, but Scully appreciated his effort.

"Want to have lunch? Nothing fancy. Just a salad across the street?"
Scully asked. "I know you're busy..."

"Uh... sure," Monica said, checking John's reaction. "Just give me a
minute to..."

"Don't rush on my account," Scully said awkwardly.

"We're just finishing up a report for A.D. Skinner," John explained.
"We want to get it to him while it's fresh on our minds."

Scully sat down and sighed. "Sometimes I miss this office."

"Yeah?" John asked. Wasn't she the one who had urged him to get out
of the X-Files office while the getting was good? He couldn't believe
what he was hearing.

"Especially now," she sighed. "I mean, lately... I have so much time
on my hands."

"Come to think of it, I'm finished with my part and I'm starving."
John glanced surreptitiously at Monica, who kept her head bent over
her computer.

"You two go on without me," Monica said. "I want to wrap this up."

"We'll save you a seat, Monica." John said, then he stood and took
Dana's elbow, and walked her to the elevator. "Oops, my wallet," he
said, then dashed back to his desk, where he had indeed left his
wallet.

"Monica," John whispered. "Please come to lunch."

"Can you bring me something?" she pleaded.

He looked into her brown, puppy-dog eyes and he couldn't bring
himself to say "no." "Your usual?" he asked.

She smiled gratefully. "That would be great."

Over lunch, John came to the conclusion that Scully wasn't just
homesick for the office. Teaching wasn't as inspiring as she'd
expected. She missed Mulder. She missed being downtown. The commute
to Quantico was a hassle...

And the unsaid hung in the air between them. Now that she didn't have
a baby at home, there was no reason for her to stay in her new
position. And although he knew it would be impossible, John suspected
she wanted to go back to the way things were before William was born.

When they'd finished their meal, Scully glanced at the empty seat. "I
guess Monica isn't coming," she said.

"Maybe I should take her something," he said. "She's probably
starving." He could feel her eyes watching him as he moved down the
salad bar, choosing the rabbit food he knew Monica loved. At each
section of the salad bar he made a show of studying the selections,
hoping Scully couldn't see his guilty eyes. After he paid for
Monica's salad, he took a mint then grinned at her with his best
encouraging grin and said, "Ready to go back?"

He regretted his choice of words, but he managed to stick to small
talk as they crossed the street, then found her car in the garage.

"Thank you, John," Scully said as they stood next to the car. She
fiddled with her keys and looked down at them as if they were
fascinating toys. "I needed to vent."

"No problem," John said, shifting his feet.

"I really miss having a partner," she blurted out. "I'm just not cut
out to be a teacher."

John noted that Scully's eyes were on the salad container in his
hand. He had a new partner now. He'd moved on, in more ways than one.
What could he say? He attempted a weak smile, then said, "You still
have friends."

"Yes, I do," she said, taking the small comfort offered to her.
"Thank you for everything."

When John returned to the office, he found Monica leaning back in her
chair, fighting back tears. Pretending not to notice, he set the
salad on her desk. "She didn't give it a thought," he reassured her.

"Thanks, John," Monica smiled weakly. "I just couldn't..."

"I know," he said. He went to his desk, pulled out some files, then
switched on his computer. "I wish you would though. She's lonely."

Monica sighed and started opening her salad. Lonely? What does Dana
Scully know about loneliness? Everybody in the damn bureau had gone
out of their way to help her, including Monica, and her mother was
still staying with her. Monica went home to an empty apartment every
night, the love of her life treated her like one of the guys, and her
mother was thousands of miles away. Dana Scully is lonely? hmph! If
anything John should be urging Dana to spend time with Monica!

Suddenly, she wasn't hungry, though the salad looked delicious.
Perfect, in fact. She buried her face in her hands and squeezed her
eyes closed, as if doing that could help her take back her momentary
lapse into self-pity. It was so unlike her, but it reared its ugly
head every time John showed any kindness toward Scully. Until now
she'd been able to quash it, but today...

His hand on her shoulder made her jump. She hadn't heard him cross
the office. What was happening to her?

"Want to talk about it?" he asked. Before she could say "no" he set
one hip on the edge of her desk and put his hands on his leg.

She leaned back in her chair. "Not really," she said.

"Sure?" he asked, not moving.

She smiled at his persistence. Yes, he knew her well. "Did Dana say
she missed me?"

John's heart sank. No, he realized. Dana hadn't even mentioned
Monica, except when they were preparing to leave. He struggled with
the decision whether to tell Monica the truth, and let out a sigh.

"I thought so," she said bravely. "Well... I don't babysit for
adults. Only for babies."

"That's not what I..."

"I know what you meant, John," Monica said. "You feel sorry for her.
Well, I don't. Not one bit!" She crossed her arms and stared
defiantly into his baby blue eyes. "If you think she needs
companionship, *you* spend time with her!"

"You're right," he said softly. "Maybe I should. After all, I've lost
a child too. You've never even been a parent..."

Monica couldn't help it. The tears started coming and she could tell
she wasn't going to be able to stop them until she told John
everything. "I probably never will, either," she sobbed. "She had the
chance of a lifetime and she just threw it away! How could she do
that?"

So that was it! John scolded himself for not seeing the signs. Monica
working in the Crimes Against Children Division. Monica feeling his
and Barbara's grief so deeply. ...and then there was that child in
Pennsylvania. The boy could have chosen Leyla to torture, but he
chose Monica. It was an odd kind of compliment, but that creepy kid
could see the strength of Monica's maternal instinct, and that's what
made her an easy target for him. He couldn't see it before, when
Luke's unsolved murder still weighed on his mind, but now it seemed
clear as day. Monica loved children. That was the Big Truth that made
him love her and fear her.

John sat motionless and silent, knowing instinctively that touching
her or comforting her would have the wrong effect, as Monica gave
vent to her feelings. She needed to let it out, not to fight it, and
he would let her.

She put her elbows on her desk and rested her head in her hands. "I
don't know why I'm doing this," she apologized when she could catch
her breath. "It's none of my business what someone else does with her
baby..."

"We both had special feelings for him," John said gently. "I'd be
worried about you if you didn't feel sad."

"Do you?" she asked, raising her tear-stained face to look into his.
"Feel sad, I mean?"

"Yes," he said. "But I wasn't there for her as much as you were."

"No," she agreed. "You were avoiding her."

Her answer startled him, but on reflection he decided she was right.
"Sometimes. But I think she was avoiding me, too. She likes you,
though."

"William liked me too," she said. "Did you know that? He recognized
me. When I came over he used to greet me with the loudest, most
obnoxious, high-pitched squeaky-door squeal..." The tears overwhelmed
her again, but she persevered, barely eking out her guilty prideful
secret: "Dana said I was the only babysitter he squealed for. He
didn't even squeal for her!"

She broke down again, and despite his resolution to keep his
distance, John slid closer to her and pulled her toward him for an
awkward hug. As she sobbed into his chest he balanced precariously on
his hip and stroked her back as best he could. "I'm so sorry,
Monica," he whispered.

At his words, she gave full vent to her grief, wailing into his chest
and grabbing his jacket in her fists. "I miss him!"

They stayed that way until she'd gotten it all out, then Monica
pulled away, blushing. "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm not really this
emotional."

"Yes, you are," he said. "In your way." He'd never thought of her
that way before, but now it all seemed so clear. She felt things
every bit as deeply as he did, and maybe even *more* deeply. That was
the source of her strength and courage. "It's what I love about you,"
he said, smiling kindly.

Love? Monica's heart skipped a beat. Did he just say what she thought
he did?

"Well, one of the things I love about you," he added, when he saw the
surprise in her face. "There are many."

"John..." She wanted to say more but she was speechless. That word
again. It echoed in her ears.

"If Dana asks for a transfer back to this office, A.D. Skinner won't
turn her down," he said, taking her hand. "It's just a matter of time
before they separate us."

Monica's heart now felt like it was falling fifty stories down an
elevator shaft. Separated?

"I think I should be the one to go," he said. "I've been thinking of
quitting anyway. But if you really can't work with her..."

"You've been thinking of quitting?" she gasped. "Why?"

"This office, it's not me," he confessed. "I only stayed cause if I
left..."

"Yeah," Monica interrupted. She didn't want to hear about
conspiracies and aliens right now.

"And there's another thing," he said, stroking the back of her hand
with his thumb. "Maybe it's this job, or there's something in the air
in here," he looked around their shared office for emphasis. "But
last year, before Mulder came back, I was starting to, well... *feel*
things for Scully that I shouldn't have."

Although he had never told her this before, it was old news to
Monica. The whole Hoover Building knew, and Brad Follmer had made a
point of telling her several times. "And that's why you don't want to
work with her again," she said.

"No! That's not it!" he said, pulling on her hand. He stood up, and
she felt herself rising as he pulled on her hand. He backed toward
the door, still holding her hand, and slammed it shut with his free
hand. "It's happened again, Monica. I'm feeling... " He struggled for
a moment, both with the words and with the decision to tell her, but
finally he put it together and said, "I'm feeling inappropriate
feelings for you. And this time, I want to see if they're the real
thing."

Oh they are, she wanted to say, but she bit her lip and pulled her
hand free from his grip. "But not while we're working together," she
said. Even she could hear the disappointment in her voice.

"If I quit the bureau I can stay in D.C., take you to the movies, to
the zoo..." He reached for her hand again. "Do it right. See if it's
the same when we're not on the clock..."

"We've been together off the clock," Monica pointed out.

"Yeah, I guess we have," he said sheepishly.

"And if you didn't feel inappropriate things for me then..." she
said.

"Oh, I did," he answered, unable to keep from smirking. "Many times!"

"And now Scully wants to come back," she said, giving his hand a
gentle squeeze. "Are you afraid I'd pitch a fit if I had to work with
her? Because I wouldn't."

"No?" He pulled closer to her. "You like my plan?"

"I like it," she said, pulling him as he pulled on her.

"Which part?" he asked.

"The part where we go to the movies and the zoo," she answered. "I
like that part a lot. In fact, I like it so much I don't want to wait
for it."

By now they were standing mere inches from each other. "No?" John
said, starting to feel a little nervous. "But the rules..."

"Rules are for people who care whether they get fired," she said.
"People who are thinking of quitting don't have to worry about them."

"Monica...." he said, his voice taking on a gravelly quality she
found irresistable.

"What?" she asked, pulling him even closer.

"Your career..." He made a weak attempt to pull away and failed
miserably.

"I'm not worried," she said.

He pulled away finally, then put his hands on her shoulders. "Monica,
I couldn't let you risk your career..."

"What risk?" she said. "We get caught, you quit. Or I quit -- I've
thought about it too. And then Dana comes back. And everybody's
happy." She rubbed her hands over his. "But seriously, John, even if
Skinner finds out, would we be fired?"

He couldn't help smiling. Skinner doubtless knew about Scully and
Mulder, but he'd never said a thing. "You're starting to make sense,
Agent Reyes."

"Good," she said. "Because I've been having some very inappropriate
feelings for you, and I *know* it's the real thing."

His hands moved upward to cup her chin. Looking into her eyes, still
moist from crying over William, he saw that it was true. And in their
watery depths he could see the reflections of his own eyes, which
told him his feelings were the real thing too. He didn't need time
away from the office to know that. Not really. He was finally free to
love a child again, which meant that he was free to love a woman who
loved children.

"One thing I've learned in this job," he said, smiling broadly. "Is
that Agent Reyes is almost always right."

She blushed, and when he leaned in to kiss her she knew that in this
one instance she was very right.

THE END