Title: John Doe Revisited (1/1)
Author: L. M. Shard
E-Mail address: lsshard@home.com or lmshard@yahoo.com
Date completed: 1-17-02
Rating: PG-13
Category: S, A, R
Spoilers: John Doe
Keywords: Doggett/Scully romance
Feedback: is much appreciated!!!
Archive: (probably) anywhere, just ask first
Disclaimer: Chris Carter, 1013, and Fox own all characters 
within.  No copyright infringement is intended and no money 
is being made by this.
Note: This is a re-write of the ending of the "John Doe" 
episode (as well as a continuation/post-ep story.)   I take no 
credit for most of the dialogue in the beginning of this piece.  
The rest is mine though.
Summary: Alternate ending to "John Doe".  What if it had 
been Scully instead of Reyes who had found Doggett in 
Mexico?



JOHN DOE REVISITED
By: L. M. Shard


John Doggett had been missing for about two weeks, and 
Dana Scully had been beside herself with worry.  She could 
barely eat, barely sleep, and her stomach was always in knots.  
Was he in trouble?  Was he injured?  Was he dead?  God 
forbid, no.  A million agonizing thoughts had preoccupied her 
mind.  It was like Mulder's abduction all over again.  With so 
many losses in her life, she was damned if she was going to 
lose him as well.  So when they got the lead that Doggett was 
spotted in Mexico, Scully high-tailed it down there, going 
directly against Kersh's orders.  She actually had to argue with 
Monica Reyes over which of the two of them would go find 
him, but Scully held her ground and Reyes finally backed 
down.  Scully just felt she had to be the one in charge of 
finding him.  After all, he was the one who found Mulder for 
her, and now it was her turn to look out for him.  She was 
determined not to let another man she cared about disappear 
from her life.

With a mixture of anticipation and fear swirling in her 
stomach, Scully walked into the large garage and out of the 
hot Mexican sun, her gun drawn.  Without warning a metal 
pipe came rushing toward her and she quickly ducked, 
avoiding the devastating blow that surely would have 
occurred.  In the same instant her heart breathed a sigh of great 
relief when she saw Doggett standing before her.  He was 
alive!  The joy she felt was incredible.
  
"John, I've been looking for you everywhere," she said, her 
heart racing.

He looked badly beaten, but before she could assess his 
physical injuries or even greet him, he grabbed her, pinned her 
to a nearby bus, and pried the gun from her hand, holding it 
against her.

"Who are you?"  He asked gruffly.  This woman didn't look 
like she belonged here.

"I'm your partner, Dana.  Your name is John Doggett.  You're 
an FBI agent.  Do you remember?"  She asked, surprised at the 
sudden turn of events.  Doggett's grip on her was like steel, but 
somehow she was not afraid, even with the gun pointed at her.  

Doggett shook his head slightly, trying hard to remember.  
Was this woman telling him the truth?

"John, trust me.  We've got to leave.  I'll explain in the car, but 
we're not safe here," Scully pleaded urgently.  She knew they 
did not have much time.

She must have gotten through to him, for he let her go and she 
turned around to face him.  They were about to make their 
way to the door when they heard several cars approaching.  It 
was the Mexican police.

"I think they want us to come out," Scully said, listening to the 
Spanish, understanding a word here and there.

"Sure, they want us to make it easy for them.  The Cartel owns 
the cops in this town.  They're gonna kill us," Doggett said.

"They're going to try," Scully agreed.

Doggett motioned toward the bus.  "Take cover.  Won't be 
long before they get tired of waiting."

They moved to the front of the bus and hunkered down.  
Scully's mind was racing as to what their next move should be.  
It looked like they were surrounded, and she was honestly 
worried if they'd make it out alive.

"So we're partners, huh?"  Doggett asked, trying hard to 
remember.  Somehow this woman seemed very familiar to 
him.  "How long have we been working together?"

"Not long," she responded.  "Just over a year."

Doggett thought her words over.  God, if he could just 
remember!  Living like this, not knowing a thing about 
himself, not knowing whom he could trust; it was all driving 
him crazy.  Then he remembered the flashes of the little boy 
he had been having, and he knew that boy must be his son.  
Maybe this woman would know about him.  If she did, it just 
might prove that she was telling him the truth about being 
partners.

"What's the name of my son?"  He asked casually.

The question caught Scully completely off guard, causing jabs 
of pain to pierce through her heart.  She quickly looked away, 
not wanting Doggett to see what was in her eyes.

"It's weird, it is the only thing I can remember, that I have a 
son.  I can see his face, but I can't remember his name," 
Doggett continued.

Scully turned to look at him.  "Luke," she said simply, hoping 
he wouldn't ask any more questions about him.  Not now.  Not 
when their lives were in danger.  Not when there wouldn't be 
any time to grieve.

"Luke," he repeated, the sound of the name feeling good, 
natural.  "How old is Luke?  I can't even remember that."

Scully met his gaze again, and all the anguish that was in her 
heart was now reflected in her eyes.  She slightly shook her 
head from side to side, not knowing what to say or how to say 
it.  But she didn't have to say anything; for Doggett saw in her 
eyes what her mouth could not communicate.

A feeling of dread and incredible emptiness brewed in the pit 
of Doggett's stomach as he watched Scully's face.  All her 
emotions were displayed clearly and, although she did not say 
a word, he knew.

"Oh, God.  Oh, God, no.  He's dead.  He was murdered, is that 
right?"  He asked.  "Is that right?"  He repeated, panic in his 
voice.

Scully was speechless.

"He was kidnapped.  He was just a little boy and…oh…" 
Doggett couldn't breathe; the pain of the memory was so 
overwhelming.  It crushed him, taking him down, like a semi 
truck going one hundred miles and hour, and he forgot 
everything around him: Scully, the danger, probable death, as 
he relived the memory of his son's death.  He cringed into 
himself, his face contorting in sheer anguish, as hot tears came 
flooding out of his tightly squeezed-shut eyes.

Scully's heart broke as she watched the man she cared so much 
about crumple into a ball of unimaginable pain.  That he had 
to relive this, the worst pain of his life, now, at a time like this, 
was so incredibly unjust.  How very cruel life could be!  

With tears spilling onto her own cheeks, she did the only thing 
she could think of, and wrapped her arms around him, pulling 
him into a tight hug.  He shook in her embrace as his anguish 
was brought to the surface over and over and over again.  He 
sobbed into her, clutching her, like he could somehow transfer 
some of the overwhelming pain away from himself.  It was 
unbearable.

A smoke bomb rolled toward the couple, and Scully noticed it 
immediately.  It was time to do or die and gathering up her 
emotions she said, "They are smoking us out.  John, I need 
you here.  I need you to focus here!"

Doggett was in his own world of agony and did not respond to 
her.  She took the gun from him and ran to the window.  It 
didn't look good.  After firing a couple shots, she ran back to 
Doggett and grabbed him by the shoulders, "John, John, if 
we're going to die here, we're going to die on our feet.  You 
hear me?"  She yelled, desperate to get through to him.  "You 
hear me?"  She repeated.

After a few seconds Doggett's face went blank and he said, 
"Get in the bus."

They scrambled into the bus and Doggett threw it in reverse, 
plowing the vehicle through the garage walls, dispersing the 
police and their lined-up cars.  They were out, but within 
seconds the bus fell to its side as the police continued 
shooting.  Trapped, there was no way out alive.  Doggett put a 
protective arm around Scully; he didn't know what else to do.

Just when they had given up hope, the cavalry came.  Within 
minutes the Mexican national police along with some 
members of the FBI had the local Mexican police under 
control and Doggett and Scully were safely out of the bus.  
After talking to their fellow FBI agents, Scully spotted 
Doggett alone.  She walked over to him.

"John, I'm so sorry about Luke, about you having to relive 
that," she said gently, her empathy displayed plainly in her 
eyes.

Doggett looked at her and said, "I'll take the bad, as long as I 
can remember the good."

Scully was moved, and embraced him once again.  He 
responded immediately and wrapped his arms tightly around 
her.  Although he still didn't remember much, just some 
memory flashes here and there, he had a feeling that this 
woman in his arms was something very special to him.

"And there's a lot of good, John," she said softly in his ear.

"I know," he responded, recalling the memory flash of his son 
riding his bicycle all on his own for the first time.  "I know."

Scully held back the tears that threatened to fall and pulled 
back.  "Let's go get you cleaned up and I'll take a look at your 
wounds before we fly out of here.  There's a flight scheduled 
for DC in about four hours."

"I can't say no to a shower," Doggett said, cracking a slight 
smile.  "I haven't had the privileged in quite a while."

This time it was Scully's turn to smile.  "I did notice you were 
a little on the grungy side."

He beamed back at her, and seeing that handsome smile of his, 
put some joy back into her heart.

Within several minutes they were back at Scully's motel.  The 
room was far from the Four Seasons, but to Doggett it was the 
cleanest place he had seen in weeks.

"Here, I brought you a change of clothes," Scully said, 
handing him the navy blue sweat pants and a white T-shirt she 
had found in his desk drawer.  She had observed he always 
kept extra workout clothes like these at the office in case he 
had time to go to the gym at lunch or directly after work.

"Thanks," Doggett said, taking them from her.

"And I think you should take these," she said as she handed 
him a couple of extra strength Advil and a glass of water.  
"They will help with your pain and soreness."

"Thanks," he said again, and after swallowing them, he headed 
for the bathroom.

As he stood in the shower letting the hot water wash over his 
bruised and battered body, his thoughts turned to the woman 
who was waiting for him on the other side of the door.  Dana 
Scully.  His partner.  Was she more than that?  He racked his 
brain trying to remember, hoping for some sort of memory 
flash to clue him in.  She was definitely his type, with her 
strength and fearless professionalism, yet her gentle 
compassion.  The way she had comforted him when he had 
remembered about Luke and the way she was unafraid when 
he had held the gun to her, made him think that maybe they 
had more than a professional relationship, unless it was only 
wishful thinking.  And where did she get his change of 
clothes?  That was almost proof right there!  If he could only 
just remember!  This amnesia was driving him absolutely 
crazy.  He wanted to ask where they stood, but in the event 
that they weren't anything but partners, he didn't want to sound 
like a jerk or give his hand away at the attraction he felt for 
her.  After all, she could have another man in her life, maybe 
even a husband, although he had not noticed a wedding band.  
He decided to follow her lead or wait until his memory 
returned, whichever happened first.

He stepped out of the shower and after wiping the steam off 
the mirror with a towel, took a good look at himself.  He was 
shocked at how awful he looked.  Hell, he looked like hell!  
That guy had beaten him up pretty badly.  Gently he toweled 
himself off and slipped on his sweats and shirt.  It felt so good 
to be clean and in clean clothes for a change.

While Doggett was showering, Scully had taken out and 
arranged all the medical supplies she had brought with her on 
the nightstand next to the bed.  What Doggett must have been 
through these past couple of weeks!  The poor man!  She 
couldn't imagine what it must be like to have no memory of 
your past or even of who you are, and then to have bits and 
pieces -- the most painful ones -- come flooding back little by 
little.  She was determined to help him in any way she could.  
She just hoped that her efforts, her presence, would bring him 
some comfort.

Doggett stepped out of the bathroom and spotted Scully sitting 
on the edge of the bed.  She looked so beautiful to him and he 
couldn't help but flash her a smile.

"You feeling better after that shower?"  She asked, noticing 
his vibrant smile.

"Much," he said, although his body still ached all over.  He 
was also incredibly tired.  With all the physical and emotional 
turmoil he had experienced lately, he was just wiped out.

"Come here, John," Scully said, patting the spot next to her on 
the bed.  "Let me take a look at your wounds.  I'm a doctor," 
she added.

He was pleasantly surprised.  "You must be one smart lady!"  
He said and sat next to her.

She smiled and stated, in her most doctor-like voice, "Could 
you please remove your shirt?  I need to examine your torso as 
well."

He complied and she was shocked by how many bruises 
covered his body and face.  She was hoping most of what she 
had thought appeared as wounds, would have just been 
excessive dirt, but now that he was clean, she knew they were 
the real thing.  

The bruises covered a good portion of his face, especially 
around the eyes.  With a gentle touch, she dabbed rubbing 
alcohol on the cuts and abrasions, and then soothed them with 
an antibacterial ointment.  Luckily none of his cuts were deep 
enough to require stitches.

Doggett watched her intently as she tended to his battered 
body.  She worked skillfully, yet her touch was so tender it 
was almost a caress.  This nearness to her allowed him to 
breathe in her faint, sweet scent and his mind reeled in the 
pleasure of it.  As she was tending to a rather large bruise 
under one of his eyes, he caught her gaze with his and held it, 
searching for answers to his many questions.  Her eyes seemed 
guarded, but the more he looked into them the more they 
opened up to him and the wall that was there, melted away.  
He definitely saw something in them that went way beyond a 
professional relationship.  The urge to kiss her was so great, 
but without his memory to go by, he did not want to do 
something that could possibly overstep his bounds, yet he felt 
his body leaning towards her anyway.

Suddenly the room flickered and everything went black.  The 
next thing he knew was he was laying flat on his back, and a 
very worried Scully was hovering above him.  He tried hard to 
focus on her eyes, and when he saw what could only be 
described as love in there, he became fully alert.

Scully smiled when she saw that his eyes had finally focused 
on hers.  She had been wracked with concern when he fainted 
on her a few moments ago.

"Welcome back, John," she said with a smile.

"What, what—"

"You fainted," she said, casually brushing his hair back with 
her fingers.  The touch soothed him immensely.  "You 
probably haven't eaten in a while, giving you low blood sugar, 
and that mixed with the horrendous emotions you went 
through today made you pass out.  I'll go get you something to 
eat.  I'll be right back," she said walking to the door.

Doggett instantly missed the sensation of her fingers running 
through his hair, but felt too tired and weak to protest.  He 
gave her a feeble smile then closed his eyes and immediately 
fell into a deep and much-needed sleep.

Several minutes later Scully was back in the motel room 
carrying a steaming cup of soup and some tortillas.  Quietly 
she set the food on the nightstand and observed the sleeping 
Doggett.  He looked so vulnerable lying there.  His face and 
body were in bad shape, but the bruises he carried on his heart 
were a million times worse.  An overwhelming feeling of love, 
sorrow, and empathy washed over her and she had the intense 
desire to just hold him.  So she did.  She removed her shoes, 
draped a blanket over the both of them, and molded her body 
to the side of his and held him.

Silent tears spilled from the corners of her eyes as she thought 
about all this man had been through.  All she wanted to do was 
take away his pain.  She loved him; there was no point in 
denying it any longer.  His disappearance had proved that to 
her.   Feeling his body breathe steadily in her arms comforted 
her and lulled her into a light slumber. 

About an hour later, Doggett awoke from several dreams.  
These dreams had such a real feeling to them, he thought they 
might have been memories.  He remembered working with 
Scully on some case.  He remembered feeling very protective 
of her and not wanting her to go where there was sure to be 
pain for her.  He remembered someone else too.  A man with 
dark hair, but he wasn't sure where he fit in yet.  Were these 
really memories or just dreams disguised as such?  One thing 
was for sure: he was not dreaming now.  Scully really was 
sleeping next to him with her arm draped around him almost 
protectively.  Perhaps that was why he had been dreaming of 
her.  He was certain that that was why he felt an inner peace at 
the moment.

She stirred and looked at Doggett.  His eyes were closed and 
she assumed he was still sleeping, giving her the opportunity 
to continue lying at his side without explanation or guilt.  She 
relished the feel of his body lying next to hers, and let her 
mind wander in the forbidden territory of what other pleasures 
his body, his love, could bring to her.

When Doggett realized she was awake, he, without thinking, 
verbalized the question he had wanted to ask since she had 
told him they were partners earlier today.  "Were we, are we 
lovers?"  He asked softly.  The question hung in the air 
heavily for what seemed like an eternity.  He was starting to 
regret having asked it.

Scully was surprised that he was awake and that he had found 
her lying next to him, but was even more surprised by his 
blunt question.  She blushed and was thankful that his face 
was not turned toward her.

"No," she said simply.  Did her voice hold a tinge of regret?

"Do we want to be?"  He asked before he could stop himself.   
This time he turned to face her.  Her cheeks were tainted 
crimson, and when their eyes met, she immediately lowered 
hers.  His heart fell.  She did not want him like that or she was 
already taken.

A hundred thoughts ran through Scully's head, matched by a 
hundred possible answers.  Had Doggett had his memory 
intact, she highly doubted he would have asked such a 
question, but he did not know where they stood.  Perhaps he 
had feelings for her that were not lost in his memory banks or 
perhaps he was just trying to figure his life out.

She could feel his eyes looking at her, waiting patiently for an 
answer.  She forced herself to look up into them and saw a 
mixture of fear and hope.  "Maybe," she said softly and 
watched the fear and hope dissolve into love.

He grinned at her words and said, "I don't have most of my 
memory back yet, but just going by my feelings when I'm 
around you, from an emotional standpoint (and definitely a 
physical one) I would have to say I want to be."

It was Scully's turn to grin.  Gently she stroked her fingers 
over the uninjured parts of his face, and he closed his eyes to 
the exquisite feel.  He took her hand from his face and kissed 
the inside of her palm.  She loved him, he could feel it, but 
without his memory, he felt he had to move slowly.

Apparently she didn't care if his memory was completely back 
yet, for the next thing he felt was her leaning into him and 
brushing her lips against his.  The feeling was exhilarating and 
comforting at the same time, and he moved even closer, 
allowing their lips to touch completely.  The kiss was tender 
and soulful; it took its time and relished in sensation.  It 
intoxicated him, and every sense in his body was highly 
aroused.

Scully felt as if she were floating; the sensations were almost 
dreamlike.  Sheer perfection.  And to think that this time 
together might have been stolen from them had they never 
found him, or worse, had they never found him alive.  Tears 
welled up from within her and squeezed out of the corners of 
her shut lids. 

When they parted Doggett was surprised to see the tears 
slowly trickling down her porcelain cheeks.

"Dana, what's wrong?"  He asked, worried that she was 
regretting the intimate moment they had just shared.

She tried to gather her emotions, but there were so many, all 
so strong.  It all boiled down to this: "I'm so thankful you're 
alive.  I thought I had lost you," she said in a thick voice.  
Several more tears spilled down her face and onto his.  The 
feelings she saw in his face in reaction to her words were 
clear: gratefulness, joy, belonging, a sense of wonder, and an 
intense love.

He cupped her face in his large, rough hands and kissed away 
her tears.  His voice shook with emotion as he said softly, "I 
must be the luckiest man alive.  Even though I don't totally 
know who I am myself, I have this most beautiful woman -- 
her kisses still fresh on my lips -- showing me how much she 
cares.  Who am I to deserve this?"  He was so touched by her 
display of emotions, yet at the same time so frustrated that he 
could not remember much of his life beyond the last couple 
weeks.

"Oh, John," she breathed as she stroked his face with her 
fingertips.  "You are a wonderful man.  A man of honor, 
integrity, a sense of duty and responsibility.  You are 
passionate about your work and always do what you think is 
right, even if it is the more difficult thing to do.  Since I have 
meet you, you have stood by me as my partner, even when 
you did not see eye to eye with me on some of the cases.  You 
show me respect even though I know you think some of my 
ideas are 'out there'.  You are always putting my safety and my 
feelings first.  You have somehow declared yourself my 
protector from the very start, though I would be the first 
person to say that I don't need a protector.  John Doggett, you 
are a good man, and I am confident that one day your memory 
will return and you will know it yourself."

He was astounded by her words and with every breath he saw 
her love more and more.  He felt it for her as well, yet he was 
incomplete; and how could he give himself to her wholly if he 
was not whole himself?

"Do you really think I will get all of my memory back?"  He 
asked.

She saw the desperation in his eyes, knowing he wanted to 
feel whole again in every way.  "Yes, John, I do.  It might 
come in waves with a little remembered at a time or it might 
come all at once.  Give it time, and until then, I can fill in 
some of the blanks for you."  She ran her fingers over his 
brows as his London blue eyes spoke their thanks in silence.

He pulled her gently toward him and captured her mouth in 
another kiss.  This one was filled with gratitude for all she 
said, for all she gave him, for all she made him feel.  Whether 
or not he got his memory back, there was one thing he knew 
for sure: he loved her.  And he would tell her when the time 
was right.  He was about to pull her even closer, wanting to 
deepen the kiss, when a shrill sound startled them apart.

Scully let out a little laugh and said, "That's the alarm clock I 
set.  It means we better get out of here and head for the airport.  
I don't think we want to stay in this place any longer than we 
have to."

Doggett nodded.  "You got that right!"

"Oh, here's the food I got you.  It's cold, but probably still 
tasty anyway," she said referring to the soup and tortillas that 
had been totally forgotten.

He nodded absently, his mind still on her.

Scully pulled back from him and moved to get off of the bed.  
He gently grabbed her, pulling her back to him.  "Thank you.  
Thank you for finding me, for helping me through this."

She smiled brightly.  "I'm glad I could help.  Now we better 
get going or we're going to miss that flight!"

He pulled her into another quick kiss before letting her go.

An hour later they were sitting in the plane.  Doggett had 
fallen asleep right after take off.  With their entire row empty, 
they had a lot of room for themselves.  Scully had insisted that 
he stretch out across the seats and use her lap as a pillow.  She 
knew he needed as much rest as he could get and wanted to 
provide his battered body all the comfort possible.  After a few 
feeble protests, Doggett did as she suggested and was asleep 
within seconds.  This gave her the opportunity to gaze at him 
unobserved and without guilt. 

 She stroked his soft brown hair, loving the feel of it on her 
skin.  He looked so peaceful there on her lap and she 
committed every detail of his features to her memory.  She 
recalled the expressions of agony on his face earlier that day 
when he had remembered about Luke.  Her heart bled at the 
pain he had to go through again, and her body physically 
shook with the recollection.  She knew that it was a pain that 
would never die.  If she ever lost William, she'd surely go 
insane.  The love a parent has for a child is so overwhelming, 
so complete, so unconditional; she never knew exactly how 
intense that feeling was until she had her baby.  Perhaps 
having William in his life would ease that loss, even if just a 
little.

It was Christmas morning and crumpled wrapping paper and a 
pile of just-opened gifts surrounded him.  He looked up and 
saw his mom and dad sitting on the couch, smiling at him.  He 
ran into their arms, feeling loved and safe.  Now he was 
waking up in a bed and a beautiful blond woman, his wife, and 
their son were carrying a tray of food over to him.  Luke 
jumped in bed next to him and helped him eat the special 
breakfast.  It was his wedding day and the vision of his new 
bride was breathtaking.  The love in her eyes was eternal and 
flawless like the shiny, unscratched rings on their fingers.  
Boot camp.  Lebanon.  Military orders were being barked at 
him.  He was cold and hungry.  Then out of nowhere stepped 
Monica Reyes.  Bad news.  His son was gone.  Pain, anguish, 
agony; so dark he couldn't see.

Doggett started moaning and writhing in Scully's lap.  With an 
iron grip his hands clutched the blanket she had thrown over 
him.  She tried to soothe him by tenderly stroking his face, but 
he was getting more and more distraught.  She knew he must 
have been remembering.  Although he desperately needed this 
sleep, she did not want him to have to go through any more 
pain again so soon.  She decided to wake him.  Hopefully he'd 
fall back asleep again quickly.

"John," she whispered in his ear.  "You're okay.  It's just a 
dream.  Shh…"

His writhing ceased and his low moans turned to quiet 
whimpers.  Her heart broke for the hundredth time that day.  
She leaned down as far as she could, and whispered in his ear.  
"John, I'm here for you.  Everything's going to be okay."

Surprisingly, he still did not wake up.  Although his 
whimpering lessened, his hands were still tightly clutched 
around the blanket.  Scully put her hands over his and 
whispered into his ear again.  "I love you."  She hadn't even 
intended to say those words, but they just flowed out, so 
naturally.  She repeated them, "I love you," and he quieted 
down completely, his body relaxing.

The pain vanished and in its place was Scully's face.  She 
floated before him like an angel.  Her belly was round and he 
realized she was pregnant.  Suddenly she was holding her 
baby in her arms.  A boy, like Luke.  She was calling to him.  
Saying something, but he could not hear her.  Ah, yes, now he 
could hear.  John.  John.

"John, the plane is about to land; you need to get up," she said 
for the third time.  He was really out.  "John."

He opened his eyes to find himself looking into seas of clear 
blue.  He smiled from his place on her lap.  "I remember," he 
said simply.

Scully returned his smile.  "You remember everything?"  She 
asked hopefully.

"Yeah," he said, sitting up.

She drew him into a big hug.  "Oh, I'm so glad, John.  I'm so 
glad."

"Everything is gonna be okay now.  I'm me again," he said 
happily.

She smiled.  "You were always you.  Even without your 
memory, your core person was within you.  You were as 
decent a man without your memory as you are with it.  That's 
just you.  It's ingrained."

He smiled, rather shyly, she thought.  "Thanks, Dana.  I owe 
you a lot."

"You don't owe me a thing, John Doggett," she said.

"Oh, but I do," he said, looking intensely into her eyes.  
"There is one thing I want you to know."

"And what's that?"  She asked.

"I love you."

She smiled brightly as tears welled in her eyes.  "I love you 
too," she breathed, throwing herself into his arms.  They 
kissed like lovers and their surroundings disappeared.

Minutes later they disembarked from the plane and embarked 
on the rest of their lives, together.



THE END