Author's Notes: If someone had told me that my first story
coming back from a long hiatus would have Doggett and
Reyes in it, I would have laughed myself silly. I consider
this story to be about Mulder and Scully. Others may see
it differently.
 
 

What goes up...

by Riptide
 
 

Federal Bureau of Investigation
X-Files Office
 

"Fuck!"

Doggett hunched over the desk, one hand covering
his head. He looked up at the ceiling tiles, daring
the objects hanging there to take any more action. A few
seconds passed, then with a satisfied grunt, Doggett
returned his attention to the file in front of him.

Flipping through several pages, Doggett sighed at
the latest supposed "X-File" to land on his desk. Just
what the hell did they think he did down here anyway?
What kind of crap did they think he'd take? Any
legitimate case would get his full attention, but this one?
Traveling to South Carolina to investigate the sighting
of some swampman-thing monster was not what he
wanted to spend his valuable time on. This case was
utter bullshit, something only Mulder would...

*Thud*

"Ouch...Fuck! That hurt!"

Leaping up from the chair, Doggett snatched the offending
object from the file it had landed on after bouncing off his
head, and flung it at the door.

"That's fucking it! I've had it. They're coming down."

Grabbing his FBI cap from the coat rack, he searched
for a yard stick, or something long enough to reach the
ceiling. He could probably reach most of them himself,
but whacking at them and watching them fly around the
room would be more satisfying.

He'd just gotten the chair in place, and was aiming for the
first one when...

"John, what are you doing?"

The chair tipped precariously as his weight shifted.
He did a half turn on the chair, while trying to keep his
balance.

"What does it look like I'm doing?"

Monica Reyes stood in the doorway, arms folded
in front of her. He was relieved it was her and not
Skinner that had walked in on him. He was positive he
looked ridiculous in his FBI cap, shirt and tie holding
a yardstick like a baseball bat.

"John, you don't want to do this."

"Oh, yes, I do."

"No, you don't."

Doggett opened his mouth to reply, that yes, yes, he
really did need to remove each and every one of the
mini missiles before one punctured a hole into his head,
or put his eye out. What made him close his mouth
instead, was the way Reyes was looking at him. She
had this look, you see, that just never failed to stop him
in his tracks. Maybe it was the way she tipped her
head down just so, so that he got the full effect of the
eyes staring at him. It could be the parted lips, allowing
just a peek of perfect white teeth. But what it really was,
was the way her mouth turned up at the corner, nearly
a smile, but not quite. And this almost smile said, 'John,
you are about to make a stupid mistake that you will inevitably
regret later.'

He lowered the stick, then climbed down from the chair.
Taking off his cap, because he was feeling rather silly in it
now, he stopped just in front of her and mimicked the way
she was standing.

His look was pure defiance, a challenge for her to give
him whatever reason she had to stop this act of self-defense,
and to make the explanation damn good.

Surprising him, Monica moved in close, entering his
personal space. Doggett took a step backward without
thinking, then cursed himself for his mistake. He kept his
expression the same though, and her smile disappeared.

"I just think that you're making a mistake by taking those
down."

"How can removing dangerous objects from the workplace
be a mistake? I've been hit by the damn things more times
than I can count. Someday, I'm going to be looking up when
one of the damn things fall and it will be lights out for John.
And anyway, this isn't his office anymore. It's my...our
office, and there ain't no good reason for them to still be
up there!"

He could feel the heat rising in his face and waited for her
to make some crack about "getting his blood up." The
remark didn't come, but he could see it in her face that she'd
been thinking it.

"John, I want you to think about something."

Doggett rolled his eyes at this, but wisely kept listening.
He knew he was about to get some wild story or silly
superstition about why the things should be allowed to stay.
His friendship and genuine respect for this woman had
taught him to at least hear her side of things, no matter
how bizarre the tale.

"How many times have you been to Agent Scully's house?"

"What?"

"How many times?"

"What the hell kind of question is that? What are you
getting at? You know that Agent Scully and I had
nothing more than a professional...."

"Whoa, John, not what I meant. It was a simple
question. You've been over to her place on several
occasions, correct?"

Doggett nodded, brows furrowed and obvious confusion
playing across his face. Where was this going?

"Can you remember seeing any pictures of Mulder
anywhere? Even a small photograph in a frame on
her coffee table?"

"Uh, no. So what? I don't think that Mulder and Scully had
what you'd call a 'normal' relationship. They were partners
a long time. I don't think they wanted to advertise to anybody
that it had become anything more. Those are two of the most
private people I've ever met. Can't blame 'em really."

"You know what it was like for Dana when Mulder was
abducted? You witnessed her pain?"

"You mean when he went missing the first time, right? Not
now?"

"He didn't 'go missing' John. He was taken. Anyway, what
I'm trying to get at..."

"Please do."

Monica gave him what he'd come to know as 'The Look' and
his breathing hitched.

"I'm sure that Dana did most of her grieving at home alone. I
remember you mentioned that you've called her and found
out that she was at Mulder's apartment."

"Feeding his fish."

"Whatever. Look deeper, John. Why spend time there? It
must have been incredibly painful to go into that apartment.
I think it was because she had nothing at her place as a
good enough reminder of him. Not even any pictures. In fact,
I think the only picture she has is his FBI badge. I imagine
that after so many months, she would have needed even more."

"I don't follow. Look, Monica, I'm not sure where you're
going with this. Just tell me if I have to go out and purchase
a hard hat."

It was one of those times that he wished life came with a
rewind button.

"I can't imagine anything could penetrate that thick skull of
yours. I think you're safe."

Ouch.

"Dana could have left The X-Files at any time. She probably
should have after she found out she was pregnant. This
isn't a low risk job by any means, and I know from a
conversation I had with her once, that having a child was
very important to her.

"I think that she needed to be here. I think that she needed to
come to this office in particular because this room still held so
much of his essence. Just look around. That poster on the wall.
She left it up for a reason. She needed it to be there, as a
reminder of what she'd lost and what she hoped to find again.
Look around. What other things are here but don't really
need to be?"

Doggett took a quick glance around the room and nodded his
head.

"I used to come in here, quite early sometimes, and she'd
already be here. Sitting at that desk, looking at the wall with
all those pictures on it. I thought she was just dedicated."

"She had him back for a while. Back from the dead. But
they didn't  have time to nurture anything in that relationship.
Now he's gone again and William is gone, and all she has
is his fish tank and..."

"Pencils in the ceiling?"

"Yes... pencils in the ceiling."

He glanced up at them once, then with quite an audible
sigh, looked back down at his feet. He shifted on them a
couple of times, then smirked at the picture he was
probably making. That of a schoolboy who was
caught in front of a broken window with the baseball glove
still in his hand.

"So I'm stuck with 'em,?"

"Only until it's time for them to come down. Dana will let you
know when. In her own way, she'll let you know. I feel
maybe... I think that, it might be soon."

She gave him a smile then, one of her soft ones that he hoped
were saved just for him. She seemed relieved that he finally
understood what she'd been trying to explain to him. He gave
her his most charming smile in return.

"Okay, but I'm moving the desk."

It seemed like a good solution to him. Why was she
looking at him like that?

Then her eyes left his, and and he saw her staring at the desk, a
pensive look on her face. She opened her mouth as if to speak,
then abruptly turned on her heel and began walking toward the
door.

He moved to follow her immediately. There was no way,no
way she going to do this to him. It was time to take a stand. It
was his office, damn it.

"Uh, uh. I'm moving that desk. Do you hear me? Monica? Where
are you going?"

"REYES!"

He stood there, hands on his hips, listening to her boots
click as they ascended the stairs. Turning around, he looked
up at the ceiling, then down at the desk.

<Fuck>

Walking slowly to his chair, he picked up his cap and pulled it down
hard over his head, then sat back down at the desk and
went back to work.

THE END

Thanks for reading.

Riptide
riptide_isle@yahoo.com