From: Geekette12@aol.com
Date: Sun, 26 May 2002 13:18:14 EDT
Subject: Submission: Sweet Temptation
Source: direct

Title:  Sweet Temptation
Author: Nichole Leigh
Rating: PGish
Summary: Pre-XF meeting of Doggett and Reyes at a bar...
Classification: DRR, Pre-XF
Spoilers: Just know that Doggett was married with a son
Disclaimer: Doggett and Reyes don't belong to me, if they did there woulda 
been a TAD bit (as in a lot) more closure with them.  Barbara isn't mine 
either.  They belong to CC and all of them.  Also, this was inspired by the 
Savage Garden song "Chained to You" which again, isn't mine, but is a really 
good song.
A/N: Never written a PXF fic with Doggett and Reyes, we'll see how it works 
out...Also, I don't know/remember the characters bdays, so assumer that in 
The Truth Doggett was 42ish and Reyes was 35ish.  This takes place around 
1994, so Reyes has been in the FBI for two years, if you use the way I twist 
info. But hey, that's just what I pulled out of my ass in about 5 minutes. 
Feedback/Flames are welcome at Geekette12@aol.com or NLeigh1013@yahoo.com, 
whichever floats your boat.

It was late Friday night.  I should have been at home, sitting on the
couch with my wife, enjoying a late movie and the fact that our son
was asleep upstairs.  Instead, I was in a darkened club, deafened by
the music and suffocated by the smoke.  Instead of the wine Barbara
and I tended to share, I held a beer, and instead of a soft couch, I
was leaning against the far wall, watching the countless bodies moving
as one to the pulsing music.

I was standing alone, and no one seemed to notice me.  I supposed I
fit in.  There was a variety of age groups, most dressed in jeans as I
was.  It was a local spot for leaving a week of work behind.  I needed
that.

"You look out of place."  The words came from a brunette who had just
come to stand in front of me.  I quickly took her in.  A few inches
shorter than me.  Dark hair hanging around her face.  Brown eyes.  
Tight jeans, black, low tank top.  Holding some drink.  Looked like
she had had a little too much.  Pretty much the same as everyone else.  
Why did I want to talk to her?

"I feel it a little."
"I'm Monica," she introduced herself.
"John."  We shook hands and she claimed the wall space next to me as hers.

"So John," she said, taking a gulp of her drink.  "What do you do?"
"What do I do?"
"Yeah," she affirmed, leaning in a little.  "You know, nine to five, 
paychecks.  What's your job."

I studied her.  She was obviously buzzed, on her way to becoming
completely trashed, but I got the feeling she was always this way.  
Upbeat.  Friendly.

"I'm a cop."
"A man in blue huh?" She smiled at me.  "I'm a woman in black.  Special Agent 
Monica Reyes of the FBI"

That was the last thing I had expected from this woman.  I looked her
up and down, which obviously didn't escape her.  She laughed at me.  
"Yeah, I know.  I get that look a lot.  Especially from the cops."

A second.  She grinned at me, and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Alright, so I was surprised."
She scrutinized me.  I met her gaze.  "You don't say much huh?"

I shrugged.  "Guess not."
She nodded.  "Alright.  I'll talk."  She leaned in.  "My name's Monica, but 
we covered that.  I'm 27, and I've been in the FBI for 2 years.  I 
investigate Satanic ritual abuse.  Unmarried, no kids and that's how I like 
it.  I'm here tonight because I needed to get trashed after a tough week at 
work.  Wearing those damn business suits makes you crave someplace like 
this."

She looked at me for a long moment, and I noticed she was tapping her
foot the music.  I don't think she even realized it.  "And what about
you?" she asked.

"Me?  John Doggett...I'm 35 and I'm with the NYPD...which I think we
also covered.  I'm married, with a three year old son, Luke.  I'm here
because I don't want to be at home.  A case ended in a dead body and
I'd rather be alone."

"Then why are you talking to me?"  Her voice had gone softer, her eyes
darker.  And I realized I didn't know.

"So," she asked casually.  "Are you in love with your wife?"

"Gettin' a little personal for bar talk, aren't you?"
She shrugged.  "Probably.  But it's not like we're gonna see each other after 
tonight."

"Yeah, I love her."
"What's her name?"
"Barbara."

She seemed to ponder this.  "What's her birthday?"
"August 19th."
"And yours?"
"November 13th."

She thought for a second, as if trying to bring back a bit of
forgotten information.  "So," she said at last.  "That makes your wife
a Leo, and you a Scorpio, right?"

Like I knew.  "Sure.  I guess so."  I wasn't into the whole astrology
thing, but the look on her face made me wonder.  "Does it matter?" I
ask.

She shrugged.  "It depends. In astrology, romances between Scorpios
and Leos are advised against.  They..." she faltered, trying to think
of words. "So what're Scorpios supposed to be like?" I asked.

She thought.  "Intense," she said at last.  "Emotionally perceptive,
crave emotional intimacy.  They don't forgive easily.  Whereas Leos
are more or less optimistic, they love the spotlight.  The two tend to
grate."

"How do you know all this?"
"I picked it up.  It's interested me since I was a kid.  The idea that the 
sun and stars control who you are, destiny."

She was the most confusing woman I had met, but as laughable as I
found the subject, I wanted her to keep talking.

"So, what type of people are Scorpios attracted to?" I asked.  
"Pisces," she answered at once.  "They're empathetic, tend to follow their 
gut.  Very open hearted and intuitive."

I smiled.  "You're a Pisces, aren't you?" I asked.
She grinned.  "Yeah."

I shook my head.  "I should have known."

Then she shocked the hell out of me.  She leaned in, kissed me.  It
was meant to be quick, light, friendly.  She pulled away and I didn't
say anything, just met her gaze.  She leaned in again, and the kisser
was longer, more urgent.  Our hands stayed at our sides, and the only
contact was our lips.  Somehow, it made the temptation harder to
resist.

Who the hell was this woman?

When we pulled apart, she just looked at me with a small smile.  
"Dance with me," she said, and swallowed the rest of her drink.

I should've said no.  I should have gone home to Barbara, to Luke.  
Fallen asleep in a familiar bed, the familiar arms of my wife around
me.  Instead, I finished off my drink and led Monica to the dance
floor.

Her arms wound around my neck and my hands rested on her waist as me
moved to the slow song.  There was something about this woman.  She
would probably call it an aura, and I smiled at myself.  No matter
what I called it, it was there. She looked up at me, and I was
startled by the intensity of her eyes.  It was like I had known her
for more than 10 minutes, and she knew everything about me.  It
unnerved me.

"I better go," I said, letting go of her waist.  
She just nodded, and as her arms slid away, I felt a sudden loss.  I wanted 
to pull her against me, talk to her, anything but walk out the door.

She walked with me as I got my coat.  "Do you want me to call you a cab?" I 
asked.
She laughed.  "Such a gentleman," she teased.  "No, I'm alright."

I nodded, and just looked at her for a long moment.
"It was nice meeting you John," she said at last.  "Thanks for the dance."

She had a small smile on her face, and even as I turned and walked
away, it haunted me.  I drove home, ignoring the three beers I had had
in the bar.  My mind was so churned up, it didn't seem as if it would
make a difference.

When I got home, Barbara was sitting on the couch, waiting up for me
like I knew she would be.  When I kissed her, I was afraid she would
taste Monica on my mouth, as I still did.

I knew it was crazy.  I barely knew Monica.  I was in love with my
wife.  We had an amazing son whom I loved more than anything I had
ever known.  But the image of Monica refused to leave my mind.

Was this what she called destiny?  My inability to escape her laugh as
I lay in bed with my wife?  Or was it just the repercussion of too
much work?  Whatever it was, it was madness.

I fell asleep, eventually, and dreamed of a smoky club and a pair of
oddly familiar brown eyes.  In the morning however, I pushed all the
disloyal thoughts out my head. I forced myself to forget about Monica,
of the feel and taste of her.  Of the magic I felt around her. One
night of temptation meant nothing.

And for a long time, I convinced myself that.

A/N II: I really don't think that Doggett would cheat on his wife but
I couldn't resist.  The lyrics to the song that made me write this
are:

We were standing all alone you were leaning in to speak to me
Acting like a mover shaker dancing to Madonna then you kissed me
And I think about it all the time
Sweet temptation rush all over me
And I think about it all the time
Passion desire so intense I can't take anymore because

I feel the magic all around you
It's bringing me to my knees
Like a wannabe
I've got to be chained to you

And when you looked into my eyes felt a sudden sense of urgency
Fascination casts a spell and you became more than just a mystery
And I think about you all the time
Is this fate is it my destiny
That I think about you all the time
I no longer pretend to have my hand on the wheel because

I feel the magic all around you
It's bringing me to my knees
Like a wannabe
I've got to be chained to you

I feel the magic building around you
I feel the magic all around you
It's bringing me to my knees
Like a wannabe
I've got to be chained to you

And I think about it all the time
And I think about it all the time
Tell me it's madness I barely know you
We were standing all alone you were leaning in to speak to me
Ten steps back you're still a mystery
Acting live a mover shaker dancing to Madonna then you kissed me
I can't take anymore because

I feel the magic all around you
It's bringing me to my knees
Like a wannabe
I've got to be chained to you

I feel the magic building around you
I feel the magic all around you
It's bringing me to my knees
Like a wannabe
I've got to be chained to you

Tell me it's madness
I barely know you