TITLE: The Last Worthless Evening
AUTHOR: Anne Hedonia
E-MAIL: ahedonia@yahoo.com
RATING: NC-17
CATEGORY: S/R/A
KEYWORDS: Scully/Doggett, Doggett Angst
SPOILERS: From Requiem on, I suppose.
SUMMARY: Scully and Doggett have a certain emotional
arrangement, but it's about to change.


AND FAIR WARNING: Sex a-plenty, and yes, between S & D. If
you're anti-Doggett or a hardcore 'Shipper, just turn back
right now - there's no point in needlessly making yourself
upset. Save your flames for people in Chicago who need 'em
for heat. I'm nervous as hell about posting this, but I
figured, out of ALL the 'Philes there are in the world,
*somebody* else's mind has to be warped appropriately to
make them want to share this little fantasy with me.

DISTRIBUTION/ARCHIVE - Gossamer and Xemplary, sure. Any
others, just please let me know first.

DISCLAIMER: If they were mine, I'd be lounging on a beach
in
Aruba about now.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: As many have said, Mulder and Scully are
still my ultimate couple - although frankly I've got lots
of
ways I like to watch these characters fit together - and I
realize the depth of feeling that Scully has for Mulder is
not likely to have her changing alliances easily. But I am
adapting in the absence of our favorite Elvis worshipper
for
a few reasons. One, because I just melt at anybody
respecting and protecting Scully, and I think Doggett has
done so admirably in the short time he's had. Two, I'm
developing a helluva lot of respect for (and a major crush
on) RP, who I had no IDEA was such a kick-ass actor and who
does the tall, lean, honorable, straight-shooting guy thing
so well. And three, because...well, somebody's just got to
shag somebody. ;)

Beta thanks go to FirePhile the Detail Nazi , for
properly ruthless and perfectly chosen suggestions; Wendy
at
SHODDS for encouragement extraordinaire, and of course the
Unknown Beta Gal - you know who you are. ;)

Also, FYI: this is my very first fic. God help me. :)


***********************
John Doggett stood outside the apartment of Dana Scully at
a
chilly, unseemly hour of the night. Idly, he checked his
watch: 12:30 am. He sighed and scrubbed a hand across his
spiky hair and down the tense muscles of his neck,
uncertain
where he wanted to go.

Doggett was a changed man, changed in a way he hadn't
expected and was fairly certain wasn't good. Or at least
not
*beneficial* to his welfare - it felt very right and good
at
times, when it wasn't killing him. It now seemed inevitable
that the months working beside Agent Scully should come to
impress her so indelibly upon his heart. It felt like a
foregone conclusion that he should, at some point, become
utterly devoted to her welfare. Despite his boss-man
approach in practically every other facet of his life, he
had somehow become her de facto slave,carrying out the duty
of her protection wordlessly, day after day, without any
thought to his own reward. It crossed his mind that she
just
seemed like the kind of being that would cause that
reaction
in anyone she met, like a siren, or a muse.

Another thought occurred to him: Jesus, he was getting
poetic in his old age. The guys at the old NY station would
most certainly piss themselves laughing at his overripe
thoughts. A smirk appeared on his tired face as he gazed
down the deserted residential street, his blue eyes boring
holes in the darkness. But then again, he had always had
more going on inside him than they could ever appreciate.
Scully could appreciate it - but to mention his feelings to
her would be worse than useless - they would almost
certainly upset the delicate balance of what he had.

He wasn't ready to leave yet, somehow. He pulled his jacket
closer around him and sat down on a low brick wall outside
a
neighboring building, leaning forward, elbows on knees.
Since he had joined the X-Files, the search for Mulder had
gone on, consuming them both. Scully's due date had come
and
gone, producing a miraculous baby girl but not her abducted
father. Scully had been overcome with a mixture of grief
and
joy that she couldn't begin to unravel, and Doggett had
held
her in her hospital bed sometime after the delivery as she
alternately cried pitifully and hiccuped into awestruck
laughter watching the baby's movements.

That had been seven months ago.

Tonight she had called, and asked if he could come over.

As usual, his heart had leapt and sunk at the same time. As
usual, he had said yes.

When he arrived, he paused and reflected outside her door,
bracing himself as he always did - on how he had to keep
himself distanced, emotionally, on how letting himself feel
too much on these occasions would be emotional suicide. He
wondered why he continued to do this, when it stopped so
short of what he really wanted. Scratch that. He did this
because, of all that he wanted, this is all she would let
him have.

He had knocked softly, and a moment later she let him
inside.

They had smiled at each other, warmly but awkwardly, as was
their custom. They *were* close, with the bond of a
sheepish
secret, of a shared confidence. He had reached to hug her
and she'd let him, her small, soft body feeling somehow
stiffer than his lean, hard angles. After a moment, she had
relaxed, melting into his embrace, pulling him closer with
small hands on his shoulders. His eyes had drifted closed
in
pure satisfaction at that point, and a rush of excitement
flooded his limbs and his groin. The feeling of her letting
go, of her trusting herself to him excited him more than
anything else he knew would happen that night.

In a weak moment he had pulled back and brushed her cheeks
with his thumbs, in delicate reverence. Her gaze had
darkened imperceptibly - she smiled faintly as she looked
down. John tamped down his disappointment, mentally kicked
his own ass. To avoid the moment and perhaps, to reassert
what claim he had, he leaned quickly to put his mouth to
hers. She responded instantly, her kisses hungry, consuming
him with a ferocity that he knew had nothing to do with
him.
A sort of nothing-personal ravaging of his mouth and his
body. He tried desperately to put away his thoughts on the
matter as they made their way back to the bedroom, groping
and stripping off clothes, Scully pausing only momentarily
to check into the baby's room, to make sure she was
sleeping.

And a surprisingly short couple of hours later, he was back
out on the chilly sidewalk, shocked by the change from her
warm apartment, inhaling her scent from every inch of his
body, feeling himself uncomfortably warm and sticky inside
his shorts. Feeling like a lost little boy, fighting the
urge to beg for more of her time. He hated needing anyone,
wasn't the least bit used to it. He grimaced and rubbed his
eyes hard, thinking of all the unbearable things that the
Marines and the NYPD had taught him to conquer, all the
steel he'd built up under his skin. And yet one tiny woman
could still catch him with a phone call, take his heart for
a spin and then dump him shivering on her sidewalk, leaving
him ridiculously grateful for the privilege of being so
near.

There didn't seem to be a Marine protocol for being
whipped.

Finally, Doggett got up and started off down the street
toward his car, his stride quick and aggressive. Fuck it,
he'd go home and get drunk, or punch his bag, or lift
weights till he couldn't move, fucking *something*.

And then his cell phone rang.

It was her, but different. Much different. She was weeping.

"John?" Her voice was so tiny and scared, was it even hers?

"Yeah, Dana, I'm here," he reassured quickly. The hell?

"Um, I don't know why, but...Oh, God, I just...something's
going on with me tonight...I just can't be alone, and...oh
look, forget it. Forget I called..."

"Dana." said quickly, urgently. Something different was
happening. He couldn't let her get away.

A sob escaped her - quite against her will, he was sure.
"Um...I take that back...I did call. Don't forget it. Don't
forget..." Her voice shrank to nothing and she lost
herself,
crying again.

"I'm almost there." He was already halfway to her
apartment.

Scully opened the door to him with her head bowed low,
trying to hide her emotions with hair and shadows. He
reached for her and she turned skittishly away, heading for
the couch. She had almost bothered to slip on a pale pink
satiny robe since he'd left - almost, he thought, because
the belt hung untied and the sway of the fabric offered him
generous glimpses of flushed pink skin and small, skyward
nipples.

Despite the recentness of their coupling, the sight of her
bare skin made his cock jump. He wasn't surprised. He was
past being surprised at what she was capable of doing to
him.

"Dana, what is it?" Her shoulders were shaking with silent
sobs as he joined her curled form on the couch. He tried
with his hands to pry his way gently in, but she wouldn't
let him.

Suddenly she uncurled all on her own and wrapped herself
more completely around Doggett than he'd ever felt in his
life. She snaked her arms past his ribs and tightly around
his back, crawled practically into his lap and clung to him
with her cheek pressed into his chest, as though wishing
the
flesh would fall away and she could crawl inside his soul.

Her breath hitched as she finally let her sobs become
audible. They were terrible to Doggett's ears. The moment
he
once thought would be his ultimate dream - her letting
herself go and trusting him to catch her - was now awful in
its execution. His hands wanted to caress her everywhere at
once, roving restlessly over warm skin and slippery fabric,
trying desperately to soothe. "Dana, I can't help unless
you
tell me. What happened? What set this off?"

Scully calmed a bit, and sighed. "I don't know if you'll
understand."

"Try me."

There was a pause as she considered. "Well...I, uh...I
tried
to go to bed after you left...and when I laid down...the
pillow smelled like you."

Doggett said nothing for a beat. The corners of his mouth
pulled upward. "Do I smell *that* bad?"

Scully hiccupped out a laugh. "No."

A dark thought occurred to Doggett, and he couldn't stop
himself from asking, in a tight voice, "Was it supposed to
smell like someone else?"

The air hung heavier between them. "No," she said quietly.
"It wasn't that. It was just...that phenomenon is something
you hold onto when the man you're with isn't there. And...I
don't want just momentos." Her voice became teary again. "I
want it all. I don't want just..." she paused uncertainly.
"...sex. I want the whole package. I need someone there to
pick up the weight when I can't carry it anymore." She
began
to cry again in earnest. "I don't want to be alone. Not
with
everything that's happened. I can't handle all this alone."

Doggett sat frozen as her words registered. What was
happening?  What was she saying to him? He didn't think it
was what he hoped. It didn't even seem *right* for it to be
what he hoped. His head swam and his emotions rioted. All
he
wanted was what was right for her - anything else would
hurt
her in the long run and he'd never forgive himself. He
didn't know what was the right thing to do, but he knew he
couldn't take advantage of this moment. He wouldn't begin
to
know how to, really - manipulation and seduction were as
foreign to him as the alien-chasing world he'd been thrown
into so many months ago.

In the end, he just caressed her hair gently, and said
exactly what he felt. "As long as there's anything I can do
about it, you won't be."

She pulled back enough to look up at him, and her eyes were
faintly surprised. She looked as though he'd just taken off
a mask. He looked down at her and found himself smiling
affectionately, despite her pain, at her swollen red nose
and watery red-rimmed eyes, so out-of-place amidst the
delicate features half-lit by the light near the door. Then
he felt the words spilling out before he could stop them.

"I want you to be okay. I want to give you everything you
need. I've never known any woman I wanted to give to more
than you." He wanted the essence of her to go on,
unsullied,
and felt he would clear any path to make it happen. He felt
strangely breathless, and shaky, like he might black out
soon. Then he took a plunge - not as deep as he could have,
not the words he sometimes let himself think, but
nonetheless a freefall. "As long as there is breath in my
body..." he rumbled solemnly, "...anything you want,
anything you need, anything you ask of me, I will do." The
room spun for Doggett as the words hung in the air.

Scully took the words in, while Doggett, he realized,
waited
for the verdict. All he had done was vow to protect her,
but
perhaps his message, however heartfelt, wouldn't be
welcome.
He didn't know. It didn't matter. He couldn't have said
anything else.

She smiled and relaxed in his arms, the creases on her face
smoothing just a bit. Doggett's heart unclenched as he saw
the effect he was having, and he sighed as he felt her lean
her forehead gently against his chest, her touch warm and
immediate through his thin t-shirt. As he reached to get
her
a tissue from a box nearby, he heard her say softly:
"You're
a good man, John Doggett."

He looked back as she accepted his gift and quietly blew
her
nose. In just those few instants, she was regaining her
composure and her usual serene glow. She seemed satisfied
somehow. She seemed sated.

Doggett felt himself become almost giddy at her
declaration.
He was sure he was grinning like a moron. "I'm a good man?
I
thought that was Charlie Brown." he cracked softly.

Scully smiled understandingly at his nervous joking. "No,
it
was you," she whispered, then reached up and ran her
fingertips lightly across his cheek and down his stubbled
chin. The touch was exquisite, and Doggett's heart pounded
in his chest. He had to keep himself from jumping - it was
the first time she had ever touched him like he was there.

If Doggett was excited by that gesture, he was nearly
capsized by her next: Eyes very deliberately fixed on his,
she gently ran her hand up around the back of his head and
brought his mouth down to hers.

Doggett could hear nothing but the roar of his own heart in
his ears, and could feel nothing but the slippery warm silk
of her lips and her tongue. Quite frankly, he never wanted
to feel anything else. She was kissing him so much
differently now, kissing him with sweet, deliberate
attention to his every thrust and parry, as though she
meant
to memorize exactly the kind of kisses he gave her. It was
an equal partnership that he hadn't felt before. Her kiss
no
longer felt like it was a hand-me-down, a form of affection
belonging to another man - it felt like she was at last
bestowing a kiss made for him.

Doggett immediately wanted to wrap his arms around Scully's
tiny middle and lift her as they kissed, to take her back
to
the bedroom, but didn't want to be a caveman. Even if she
was letting him be her white knight in the comfort
department, even if this was the beginning of a bold and
glorious new era - as he so desperately hoped - it might
not
be permission to immediately start thinking with his dick.
But she felt so right in his arms and his heart was
swelling
with hope and pride and his newfound freedom to tell her
how
he felt without her running away. He wasn't  completely
sure
what license he had just been granted, but he knew he'd
been
granted something and it felt like he'd won the lottery,
jumped successfully out of an airplane and hit a home run
in
Yankee Stadium, all on the same day.

He couldn't begin to contain the smile that split his face
when she raised up from the couch and pulled him up with
her, walking backward as they kissed. Being drawn back to
her bedroom again, instead of being shown the sidewalk - it
was a prize he wouldn't have thought possible. He scooped
her up impulsively into the fiercest hug he could give,
throwing every bit of love and joy and gratitude into the
strong flexing muscles of his arms. She giggled softly and
buried her face in his neck, stroking his short, fine hair
and nuzzling him. He was flying, his feet were not touching
earth as he found himself at the entrance to her bedroom.

As he set her down on her bed, his blue eyes locked with
hers, a small cry came from the baby monitor nearby. John
felt his body tense and the  lightness he had been feeling
sink into his shoes, along with his stomach. Scully's eyes
went immediately to the source of the noise, as though
nothing of the past few moments had ever happened. She
looked quickly up at him, apologetic, then scooted out from
under his chest and arms and off down the hall.

Doggett turned and sat on the bed, trying to quell the
panic
he felt rising. He fought the urge to let his head sink
into
his hands, then just gave in.  Everything he had just been
feeling seemed absurd, selfish, and just plain petty
compared to the evidence of Scully's former life now cooing
in that crib, evidence of her only possible and logical
loyalties. His lip threatened to tremble as he fought for
control.

He heard the baby's door shut and Scully pad into the room.
He lifted his head and gave her his best resigned look. His
heart broke as he took her in in the ambient glow of her
bedroom - the pink robe still undone, her nipples hard and
as flushed as her cheeks, the thatch of copper hair at the
juncture of her thighs showing brazenly.

He knew he was doing a terrible job of concealing his hurt
and disappointment. His eyes were brimming and threatening
to spill over, God dammit...he probably should just get the
hell out of here right now - he'd been a fucking idiot. He
looked to her face and saw something he didn't expect -
lack
of understanding. Not the discomfort of having to deal with
the inevitable. Not the uneasiness of having to get rid of
a
man she had just foolishly led on. But real
non-comprehension. Then a dawning, and a small smile.

She walked slowly to the edge of the bed where he sat,
making her hips sway just a little, playing with the
hanging
edges of the robe and what they showed. Doggett was now the
one who didn't understand, though his cock certainly
understood what it wanted to do with the information being
presented. She knelt before him, her hands warm on his
knees. Now he saw that the smile she offered was like his,
tinged with tears threatening to fall.

"I wish I could say I knew what the hell I was doing,
here..." she offered softly.

"I know the feelin'." he rumbled honestly. Her warm,
grateful smile that grew at his response was simultaneously
tugged downward by even more impending crying. He put his
hands on her shoulders and rubbed them, couldn't stop
himself from caressing up to her face, where his cupped
hands held her steady while she threatened to break apart.

"But I know I'm not doing this on a whim," she finished.
Doggett stared at her, riveted, as she continued. "I've
actually been resisting this ever since it - since *we* -
started."

A fire of excitement spread throughout Doggett's limbs -
he'd been tempting her all this time? His head spun, even
as
her next words yanked him back to earth.

"I haven't given up on the idea of Mulder returning - I
never will..." she said softly. "But I'm not making this
decision without him in mind. I'm not just acting on
impulse, and I'm not going to be scared away the second
someone or something brings up the thought of him," she
said, her voice gaining strength. "I need someone *here*.
You are here."

Doggett felt a sudden flash of hurt. He was here. He was
*just* here. Fucking great. He might as well be a blow-up
doll.

She seemed to read his mind. She shook her head. "I'm not
just making do with whatever warm body I find, know that -
I'm not." Her eyes bore into his with certainty, and John's
soul gave up his relief to them. She ran her hands up his
hard forearms and grasped tightly. "I trust you, so much.
You've never once let me down." Her face wandered away.
"You're someone I...respect and admire..." she flailed
sweetly.

Doggett took her gently by the shoulders, cautious but
quietly determined. The steel in his eyes was softened.
"I've fallen in love with you, Dana."

She smiled as though warmed by his words. She brushed her
small, warm fingers across his cheek. John sighed and his
eyes slipped half-shut. I'lI...you'll  forgive me if I
can't...yet. But...it's not out of the question. You're..."
she looked up at him then. "You're extraordinary, John."

John's heart swelled with fierce pride. "That says a lot,
comin' from you." She let loose a sardonic laugh, and he
chuckled at her humility. "Jesus, Dana - you're
indestructible."

Her smile was small and faint. "Rumors of my durability
have
been greatly exaggerated."

"Not from where I'm sittin'."

A moment passed. "I'm still going to keep looking for him,"
she said quietly. "You have to know that."

John nodded slowly. "I'm still gonna help you." he
answered sincerely, then chuckled in amazement.

She nodded, touched his face, and tears rose again. "I have
no idea what will happen when we find him...I don't want
you
to feel second best, because you're not...I..."

Before she could continue, Doggett hauled Scully up into a
melting kiss. She returned his fervor, her hands grasping
the hard muscles of his back, surging up to grip his head.
His hands had their own agenda, sliding down her robe and
cupping her ass, squeezing possessively. Scully moaned
against his mouth and Doggett smiled triumphantly against
hers. He broke the kiss and yanked aside her robe to give
his mouth access to her nipples.

After a moment spent relishing the taste of her skin, he
stopped to catch his breath against his squirming partner,
head between her breasts and large hands splayed halfway
around her ribs. This was all so sweet, so unbelievable, he
wanted it to last, but when Scully growled and pulled his
head back up to her nipples, he wasn't sure he'd get the
chance. He grinned and ran his lips and tongue lazily,
slowly over her hardened nubs, teasing with all he had, and
relished the gasps it elicited. He would gladly spend the
rest of his days pulling that sound from her.

Suddenly Dana disentangled and vaulted past him onto the
bed, flopping back against the already-rumpled pillows with
a look that was a dare. The pink satin dripped off her
smooth, delicate arms and poured over her legs in a way
that
made Doggett pause and savor the view before he lunged onto
the bed after her, tearing away the robe as his mouth
consumed every bit of her flesh he could find.

Scully shrieked happily and pulled at his shirt, impatient
to remove it. He raised up to let her, then she ran her
warm
hands down the bare skin of his chest to the top button of
his jeans. She paused and firmly caressed his erection
through the cloth. Doggett let out a hiss, his eyes falling
shut.

"I found something I like..." purred Scully, rubbing it
languidly.

"It's yours," Doggett breathed. "All yours."

Scully popped open each button on his fly slowly,
torturously, till finally she eased the jeans and boxers
off
his hips and ass and his cock sprang free, inches from her
face. She eyed his penis as he kicked his pants to the
floor, then glanced at him with a devilish grin, and John
felt his stomach flip and his dick grow even harder at her
obvious enjoyment of the situation. It seemed like a dream
of some alternate-universe Scully who did everything he'd
always ached for her to. And if anyone woke him up, he'd
kick their ass.

Oh Jesus...her mouth was on him. She'd made good on the
threat in her eyes. She'd done this before. Doggett knew
she'd done it before. But it was never like this, never
this
intense, never with her tongue swirling and her lips
smiling
as they sucked and the sweet-hot thrill he felt coursing
through his body right now. She saw *him*, and she wanted
him, badly. Sweet Jesus, she was actually fucking *him*.

"Hold that thought," he gasped, and guided Scully up by the
shoulders as he lay back on the bed. She hovered over him
now, flaming copper hair lit by the bedside lamp and
framing
her as she smiled down. Doggett couldn't resist gently
grabbing her face and bringing it down to kiss it all over,
again and again, eliciting soft giggles from the object of
his overflowing affection. He then guided her around to
face
the other way. She picked up the point immediately, and
lowered her face to continue her sweet torture of his
nether
regions while he slipped his hands around her ass and
pulled
her folds closer to his tongue.

Through the sweet haze in his brain that Scully's mouth was
causing, he listened to her muffled grunts of approval.
Though he already had a pretty good idea of what she liked,
he paid even closer attention now, and adjusted intuitively
to what made her react the most. He made his lips as wet
and
slippery as possible. He licked languidly, then faster as
he
felt her body tighten, then zeroed in and sucked her clit
with careful pressure. Apparently he was hitting the mark,
because she let his cock pop out of her mouth to moan out
loud. Inwardly, Doggett's spirit did the Wave.

In a few minutes she'd given up altogether on sucking him
in
favor of writhing against his face, gasping and crying out,
her restraint all but gone. He knew enough about the sounds
she made to know when she came, but when it happened this
time, it was unlike anything he'd ever heard. This was
ScullyCome turned up to eleven. She let everything go, lost
all touch with control as she came good and hard, with a
growl so raw that it almost had him coming too, so fierce
was his excitement at hearing it.

Scully was still gasping and recovering when Doggett pushed
her onto her back, kissing her savagely and grinding his
erection against her folds. He cried out against her mouth
at the feel of her, the electric contact of his cock
against
her silky, wet heat. Everything about her was driving him
out of his mind.

"Now..." she gasped. "Oh please, do it now..."

Never let it be said that John Doggett refused a lady.

He pushed toward her opening, guiding himself with his
hand,
the sensitive head plundering her unbelievable wetness. A
second later he hit the right angle, and she was so wet he
slid in - no, shot in - straight to the hilt. His head went
back, every muscle in his wiry body clenching, and his eyes
fell shut. He exhaled on a breathless "oh." It was that
moment, that home-sweet-home moment when their joining was
final, and indescribably good.

He leaned forward and gaped at her, eyes dulled with
desire.
Her hair was splashed across the pillow, her eyes dreamy
and
languid. He leaned to nuzzle her, feeling her breasts,
creamy soft, brushing his chest, and didn't move for what
seemed an eternity. Their eyes met, parted to drift
wonderingly over each other's faces, then locked again.
Scully smiled and thrust her hips gently up. Doggett
groaned
in pleasure. She smiled wider and did it again.

"Just...tryin' to make it last..." he managed.

Scully didn't appear concerned. "Well, if it doesn't, we
can
always do it again." She kissed him. "And again. And
again."

Doggett gazed at her, grinning, and nearly laughed out
loud,
so keenly was his soul bubbling over. He began to move
slowly within her, watching her face as her expression
became distant and the pleasure began to overtake her. Then
soon it was his turn to leave, as the sensations building
in
him became more urgent. More and more urgent. Jesus, so
urgent.

His mind left the realm of the rational, and fevered,
frantic bursts of picture and emotion began to flash at him
as he thrust over and over, just blurs of thoughts: love,
heat, Scully's face, Scully at her desk, her small hands,
crying earlier, him grabbing her up on the bed, pain,
fear...the future. The ghost of a missing partner rose up
behind his closed lids, making him wince just a moment
before a sweet burst of endorphin yanked him unequivocally
back to his body. Sadness tinged the luscious hot tight
sucking friction, just briefly.

His arms, straining and ramrod straight, trembled slightly
with the exertion. Her slim legs twined behind the small of
his back, impatiently pulling him in deeper...Jesus. He
felt
the cusp of his orgasm arrive. He didn't want it yet. He
relaxed, blew out air, put it off. He heard Scully gasping,
felt her hand wriggle in between their clenching bodies and
start to rub busily, just above their joining. He looked
down at her, felt the sweat roll off his brow as her
fingers
flew and her face squeezed tight with exploding pleasure,
her mouth an open "o" and her muscles starting to clench.
God, she was coming again, because of herself, and him,
because of them...and so he was coming, no turning back
now...no wish to, just sweetness, oh dear God...

What seemed like hours later, Doggett found himself lying
on
top of Scully, breathing, her hands soothing his back, his
neck. He mentally berated himself for letting all his
weight
rest on her and rose up on his elbows, looking at her
clearly for the first time since he'd left earth a moment
ago. Would she still be there?

Scully's head had drifted to the side, her eyes closed.
Doggett felt a stab of uncertainty - anything could happen
now. Then her head righted and she opened her eyes and
their
clear blue depths looked at him, square at him, and her
rosy, swollen lips smiled. Her look was sober, and weighted
with the knowledge of what they'd done, but he could tell -
she had not turned back.

Doggett's fear left him. He relaxed and stroked Scully's
humid face. He felt strong and calm and joyous and sated.
Perhaps foolishly so - perhaps the future would come to
flay
him open in ways he'd never dreamed about - but for now,
all
was fine.

Regretfully, he separated from her and, with a gusty sigh,
rolled onto his back beside her. The night's exertions -
physical and otherwise - were catching up, and traitorous
sleep was overcoming him, despite his desire to stay with
all that had happened. He fought the weight of his own
eyelids as he felt Scully's hand slip tentatively across
his
chest, the rest of her body snuggling near.

"You'll stay tonight?" It would hardly be noticeable to
someone who didn't know her, but her voice was smaller than
usual. Doggett warmed with rueful affection at her tone, at
her need to even ask. He turned his head and took in the
sight of her, her normally polished persona flushed and
oh-so-pleasantly mussed, and could not hold back the grin
that overtook his face.

Scully's face relaxed into a warm smile of its own, relief
barely perceptible in her eyes. The moment lengthened and
darkened, as the two of them silently shared the knowledge
of their sweet, foolish, doomed enterprise. He  reached for
her to shake it off, pulling her in close with both arms.

"I'm here as long as you want me," he rumbled.

END

Well, that's it. As someone once said, the world didn't
end.
;) Constructive feedback and words of encouragement begged
for at  ahedonia@yahoo.com. Thanks to all the DoggettFic
writers before me for their beautifully written
characterizations of D-man, which helped me want to write
this.