TITLE: Two Wrongs
AUTHOR: Dogg'N'Scull
E-MAIL: doggnscull@yahoo.com or thorfinna@sympatico.ca
RATING: PG
KEYWORDS: AU, DSR
ARCHIVE: Yes (just please let me know)
SPOILERS: Up to and including William, Season 9, becomes AU after 
that.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Doggett or Scully, or the X-Files, nor do I 
make any money from them. This is purely for fun.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Whew. I *finally* finished this story!! I had hoped to 
have this done in time for Thanksgiving as a gift to all my American 
friends, but it didn't happen... better late than never? <g>
DEDICATION: To coolbyrne, who's holding me to that happy ending. <g> 
(Is it ironic that I'm dedicating a story that was to be a gift to my 
American friends, to a Canadian?) And to Donna#3, who always gives me 
the incentive to keep going and without who's support, I'd never 
finish anything. Love ya, baby!


Two Wrongs
by Dogg'N'Scull

John Doggett walked briskly from the elevator towards the basement 
office of the X-Files department, his hand fishing in his pocket for 
his keys. He slowed as he drew near, nodding at the light that 
spilled into the hallway from the open door.

He'd half expected to find Scully down here so he wasn't surprised 
when he saw her sitting at her old desk, her back turned to him. It 
was the reason he'd come in. Something had niggled around in the back 
of his mind all week that had told him he might find her here today, 
and all morning he'd found that he couldn't let it rest until he'd 
seen for sure. So here he was. And so was she. 

He sighed. What was she doing here all by herself? She should be 
spending the day with family and loved ones, not sitting alone in the 
basement, surrounded by... memories. He frowned. She'd probably have 
a few choice words for him if she knew that he'd come here looking 
for her. He sighed again and figured the best approach, in this case, 
would be to let her think he'd found her by chance.

Doggett coughed and jingled his keys as he entered the office, 
feigning surprise. "Agent Scully? What are you doin' here?"

She started, and rose from the chair guiltily. "Nothing. I, uh, I was 
just... nothing. I'm sorry." She started towards the door hurriedly.

"Woah, woah. Hang on," said John, catching her arm gently. "You don't 
have to leave. I was just surprised to see you here today."

She stared back at him and he couldn't help but wonder if she'd been 
crying as he took in her slightly reddened eyes. 

"What are *you* doing here today, Agent Doggett? Don't you have..." 
she was going to say 'family to see' but caught herself at the last 
minute. "Don't you have someplace else to go for the holiday?" 

He shook his head. "I just stopped by to pick up a couple of things, 
but no, I don't have anyplace special to be today. Just relaxin' at 
home, cookin' the turkey. Stuff like that." He stared quizzically at 
her. "How 'bout you? Aren't you goin' anywhere for Thanksgivin'?"

She looked away. "No. Not this year." She swallowed and they were 
both silent for a long moment. "Uh, well, I should be going," Scully 
started and took a step towards the door again, but Doggett's hand on 
her arm stopped her once more.

"Agent Scully..." he started. 

She stared back at him and something in her eyes made his chest 
tighten, and he was all the more certain that she had been crying.

"I'm, uh... I got this bird cookin' at home, you know..." he 
stammered. "I'm never goin' to be able to eat it all, an'--"

"Agent Doggett--"

"I'd really like it if you'd come by for dinner," he said and she 
fell silent. Encouraged by the fact that she hadn't outright rejected 
his offer he continued. "We could watch football..."

The corner of her mouth twitched in what was almost a smile and he 
realized she was actually contemplating his offer. But the smile 
turned sad and she gave a slight shake of her head.

"That's not necessary, Agent Doggett--"

He touched her arm again. "I know it ain't. That's not why I'm 
askin'."

She stared back at him, her eyes telling him that she was yearning to 
say yes but she needed the right reason to do so.

"I'd find it a hell of a lot nicer than just sitting in front of my 
TV alone," he said softly. "Besides," he continued in a teasing 
voice. "*Some* body's got to help me eat all that food."

A smile snuck onto her lips and she shook her head. "Why are you 
making so much in the first place?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Ah, you know... It's tradition."

"Ahh," she nodded sagely. "Well... I suppose it would be remiss of me 
to let all that food go to waste," she kidded.

Doggett nodded solemnly, fighting to keep the smile that wanted to 
break out off his face. "Oh, yeah. That's a very serious crime, Agent 
Scully."

She held her hands up in surrender. "Then I give up. I've seen your 
determination, Agent Doggett. I wouldn't want to be the subject of 
one of your investigations."

He gave her a wry look. "I'm not sure if that was a compliment or 
not..."

She chuckled. "It was. And I'd love to come for dinner. Thank-you."

He smiled, inordinately pleased that she'd accepted. "Great. Any time 
you want to come over is fine."

She nodded. "Fine. Give me an hour or two then. Is there anything I 
can bring?"

He shrugged. "Not unless there's something out of the ordinary you 
want to have. I've pretty much got all the bases covered. 's up to 
you."

"Okay. I'll see you then," she said, nodding.

"Okay," he said back. 

She gave him one last little smile before leaving him alone in the 
office to gather the things he'd come for.

He watched her go, a feeling of mild concern tugging at his heart as 
he contemplated why she'd been sitting down here, alone and crying.  
Not for the first time, he wished he could make her happy. Lord knew 
she deserved some happiness. He sighed. He hoped he could give her a 
few hours to relax and forget about whatever was troubling her, just 
for a little while. 

xxxxxxxxxxx

Scully walked up the steps to Doggett's front door feeling slightly 
uncomfortable. Twice on her way over she had picked up her phone to 
call and tell him something had come up and she wasn't going to make 
it after all, but both times she'd sternly forced herself to put it 
away. He was right. Spending time together today would be a hell of a 
lot nicer than sitting alone at home, feeling sorry for herself. She 
was fortunate to have someone like Doggett who would even make the 
offer, the least she could do was take him up on it. Of course, that 
didn't mean she didn't feel slightly awkward about being here, but 
she was determined to enjoy herself as much as she possibly could, 
under the circumstances.

Doggett opened the door to her knock and smiled, happy to see 
her. "Hey, c'mon in," he said warmly, wiping his hands on a dishtowel 
as he held the door open and ushered her inside. 

"Thanks," she said, offering him the twelve-pack of beer she'd 
brought with her. "For the game," she said, smiling self-
consciously. "I'm sorry I didn't bring anything else. I wasn't 
expecting to have a Thanksgiving..." She trailed off uncomfortably.

"That's okay, I've got lots on the go," he said, frowning to himself 
slightly at that. He smiled, hefting the twelve-pack. "An' these'll 
come in handy, don't worry."

She smiled slightly as she toed off her shoes and hung her jacket on 
the coat hanger, the self-conscious feeling still clinging to her.

"I'm just finishin' up a couple a' things in the kitchen," Doggett 
said, leading her down the hall. "Can I get you something to drink? 
Some wine, a beer?" 

"Um, I could have a glass of wine," she nodded.

"Sure thing. C'mon in," he said as he walked into the kitchen. He put 
her beer in the fridge and looked over the open door at her. "You 
want red or white?"

"White please," Dana replied as she lingered in the doorway. 

John's head disappeared as he bent to reach deeper into the 
refrigerator. 

Scully looked around the room at the numerous pots and pans on the 
go. He was really going all out on this dinner. It didn't surprise 
her that he could cook, he was so self-sufficient in the other 
aspects of his life, she didn't expect him to be otherwise in this 
one. Still, it impressed her. He was a man of many talents.

Doggett had retrieved the bottle of wine and was working the cork 
free as he shut the fridge with a nudge from his foot. "Please, sit 
down," he said, motioning her to the table as he poured her a glass. 
She obliged him as he handed it to her, that self-conscious smile 
back on her face.

"So, where did you learn to cook like this?" she said, encompassing 
the controlled chaos of the room with a sweep of her hand.

Doggett shrugged. "I used to cook a lot at home. My mama raised her 
sons right," he grinned. "And I learnt some in the Marines. I used to 
cook for my wife all the time..." He let his voice trail off before 
he cleared his throat. "I don't do the big meals so much anymore, of 
course."

Dana nodded and smiled at him sadly. Their eyes met for a brief 
moment before he turned back to his preparations, a subtle heaviness 
settling over them. 

Scully watched him work as she sipped her wine silently, 
contemplating the man who was her one-time partner and now friend. 
She was glad he'd found her this morning; glad she'd let herself 
accept his invitation.

When he began rolling a ball of dough for a piecrust, Dana shook her 
head in wonder. "You bake too?" she said, surprise evident in her 
voice.

He glanced over his shoulder at her and shrugged, slightly 
embarrassed. "Can't have Thanksgivin' without pie. I would a' made 
pumpkin but I've never been a fan. I hope apple is okay?"

"Apple's fine," she said, impressed by him again.

"So, how come you're not spending Thanksgivin' with your mother?" he 
asked as he continued to work the dough. When she didn't answer he 
turned to look over his shoulder at her, questioning.

She shrugged, her whole demeanor changed. "I just decided not to this 
year," she hedged, unable to hide the sudden strain in her voice.

John set the rolling pin down on the counter and turned to face her, 
his eyes holding concern.

Scully's gaze dropped to the table and she fiddled with her wine 
glass. She found it impossible to ignore that look; it reminded her 
so much of Ahab, how he would never fail to get her to tell him 
anything just by looking at her that way. She sighed.

"I, um... we haven't, uh..." She swallowed, her voice heavy with 
emotion. "We haven't spoken since... since William."

Doggett stared at her in shocked compassion, his expression saddening 
at her admission. He nodded to her softly in understanding though a 
part of him seethed at her mother for being so callous. How could she 
turn her back on her daughter when she was so obviously needed? 

He cleared his throat. "Well, I hope you've got an empty 
stomach 'cause I'm sure as heck not going to be able to eat all a' 
this!" he said, trying to lighten the mood. 

She smiled, blinking at the moisture in her eyes, grateful for all he 
was doing for her. She drew in a deep breath. "I'm famished. And it 
smells wonderful, by the way. Are you sure there's nothing I can do 
to help?"

"Nah, I got it covered. You just relax. I haven't had the chance to 
cook for anybody in a long while, I'm kinda enjoyin' it," he grinned.

She smiled softly, for some reason both saddened and pleased by his 
revelation.

"Can I get you another?" he asked, nodding towards her empty wine 
glass.

"Hmm," she hummed in the affirmative. "It's lovely, thank-you."

"Yeah, my brother picked that up from Niagara," he said as he 
poured. "I haven't had any occasion to open it before now."

Scully gave him a nod as she sipped, not failing to notice the third 
hint he'd dropped. Consciously or not, he was making it clear that 
there was no one currently in his life, nor had there been for 
sometime. She let that thought turn over in her head.

"How many siblings do you have?" she asked him.

"Two. One brother and one sister."

"You're the oldest," she guessed. 

He grinned at her over his shoulder. "Is it that obvious?"

She shrugged and grinned back. "The oldest ones are always the 
responsible ones."

He laughed and shook his head. "Well, I don't know about that... 
maybe... well, yeah, I guess so."

She laughed, a welcome sound to Doggett's ears. "See. Told you," she 
teased. 

"Yeah, but you haven't met my brother and sister. You'd see that it 
ain't too hard to be the responsible one next to them!"

"Ah, a real wild bunch I bet."

He glanced over at her again, unable to stop the grin. "Yeah, yeah, 
yeah. Go ahead and make fun. You can tease all you want, but I had 
some irresponsible days of my youth, believe me."

She cocked her head, regarding him. "Oh, I bet you did, Agent 
Doggett," she said coyly, shocking herself and him. 

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. "You are in a mood today, aren't 
you?"

Her smile faltered and she dropped her gaze. "I'm sorry, I..."

"Hey. I didn't say I didn't like it. Just... you know, surprised me a 
bit," he hurried to reassure her.

She nodded, her gaze still distant. 

Doggett frowned at himself. 'Way to go, John-boy,' he cursed 
silently. "If I didn't know better, I'd say that was a little bit 
of 'Dana' peeking out behind my oh-so professional partner there," he 
said, trying to keep their banter going.

She couldn't suppress the smirk that crept onto her face. "You would, 
huh?" 

John smiled back in relief. "Oh yeah. I'd say you were givin' me some 
definite 'Dana' action, there."

It was Scully's turn to raise an eyebrow and Doggett coughed, his 
face going red as he realized the potential double entendre of his 
words. 

"Uh..." he stammered. "I'm sorry. That didn't come out quite right." 

Scully laughed again. "That's all right. I know what you meant. So, 
what about you?" she asked, nodding in his direction. "Is this a peek 
at the man behind the agent?"

Doggett shook his head ruefully. "I dunno. Maybe. You like what you 
see? Man in the midst of domesticity...?"

"Hmm, well, it's not a bad view," she said mischievously, arching an 
eyebrow as she gave him an appreciative gaze.

John gaped at her again before an incredulous grin spread across his 
face. He reached over and put a hand on top of her wine glass, 
dragging it away from her. "That does it, you're cut off, young lady. 
You have definitely had enough to drink... Especially if you're 
starting to think *this* view is okay."

"Hey!" she protested, grabbing her glass from him.

He let her have it, shaking his head as he turned back to his 
preparations with a chuckle.

Dana watched him, her eyes following the outline of his body as she 
wondered why he didn't think she would find him attractive. 'You 
haven't exactly given him any indication that you would,' she told 
herself, conceding that it was true. But he *was* a handsome man, in 
a rugged sort of way - large hands; physically well defined, from 
what she'd seen; a face that age had given character... And then he 
had that voice... and those eyes... Dana couldn't count the number of 
times she'd been caught in that intense, blue gaze. Truth be told she 
found him very attractive and it was becoming harder and harder for 
her to remember reasons why she shouldn't. In fact, she was beginning 
to realize that she didn't really want to anymore.

John could feel her eyes on him as he worked, his mind chewing over 
her words. 'She was just joking around,' he reasoned. 'It was just 
part of the fun.' Still, there was something left in the air around 
them that made him think otherwise.

He gave her a quick glance over his shoulder, confirming that she was 
still watching him. She smiled.

"What're you doin'?" he asked, amused and puzzled.

She dropped her gaze. "Sorry."

He shook his head. "Don't be. I'm just not sure what you're finding 
so interesting..." he trailed off as she looked away again, a guilty 
blush creeping over her skin. 'Holy Mother of God,' he thought as the 
realization hit him. 'She was checkin' me out!'

The thought sent an instant rush of blood to his groin and he sucked 
in a breath. "I'm, uh, nearly done here," he said, turning back to 
the counter hastily. "Why don't you go ahead into the livin' room and 
relax, an' I'll be right out."

Mortified, Dana mumbled something in the affirmative and fled the 
room.
glanced after her, bracing himself on his hands as he sagged against 
the counter top. He let out a long breath and concentrated on not 
thinking about his extremely attractive partner and what her eyes had 
been doing.

xxxxxxxxxx


'Well, that was really smooth, Dana,' she said to herself as she 
walked into his living room. What was she thinking, anyway, staring 
at him like that? She shook her head. Maybe he'd been right about the 
wine, she obviously wasn't thinking clearly. 

She sighed as she wandered around the room. Her emotions had been 
running close to the surface all week, if she was going to be honest 
with herself.  She'd been feeling something akin to dread as the 
holiday approached and it had come to a head this morning when 
there'd still been no word from her mother.

She hadn't wanted to believe that her family would turn their backs 
on her, but the cold silence that met her on the phone this morning 
when she'd called home was evidence enough that they had. Her 
mother's voice, bitter and angry, came back to her. 'I have no 
daughter.'

Dana covered her mouth with her hand to stifle the sob that rose in 
her throat.

John was about to walk into the living room, but he hesitated as he 
saw Dana, her shoulders shaking with silent tears. He was torn 
between giving her privacy and giving her comfort, but his heart won 
out and he crossed the room to her.

"Dana," he said, settling his hands on her shoulders gently as he 
came up behind her.

She started, a gasp escaping her as the wine glass slipped from her 
fingers and landed on the carpet, her wine spilling across the 
fibers. "Damnit," she cursed, wiping furiously at her eyes as she 
crouched down to pick up the glass, using the action to disguise her 
tears. "I'm sorry."

"Dana-" 

"Do you have a towel? I can wipe it up-" she babbled, searching his 
table top for something to absorb the liquid, avoiding his 
eyes. "God, I'm sorry. I don't know what I was-"

"Dana." John crouched beside her, taking her shoulders in his hands 
again. 

"I need a towel," she protested as he turned her to face him. "It'll 
stain-"

"It's not gonna stain, Dana, it's white wine-" he said, forcing her 
to stop.

She stilled, her head bowed. "I'm sorry-" she said, her voice still 
heavy with tears.

"It's okay." He ducked his head until he could meet her eyes. "Hey. 
It's okay."

His compassion was her undoing and her face crumbled. Tears flowed 
from her eyes freely and she reached for him, sobbing gratefully when 
he pulled her to him.

John held her in his arms, soothing her softly as he stroked her 
hair, his heart breaking. He wasn't sure what had caused this, but if 
she needed him, he would be there. It was something he had sworn to 
himself long ago, and though it was rare for her to let him be there, 
when she did he was damn well going to give her whatever she needed.

It wasn't long before she was pulling away and wiping at her face. 
John pulled a handkerchief from his back pocket, fortunate to have 
one on hand, and offered it to her.

She let out a laugh and sniffed as she took it, shaking her head as 
she wiped her eyes. "You're always prepared, aren't you?"

"I try," he said tenderly, pushing a strand of hair back from her 
face.

She closed her eyes at his touch and drew in a deep breath. "I'm 
sorry," she said again, opening her eyes to meet his concerned blue 
ones. "I probably should have stayed home. I don't think I'm going to 
be much company today," she said, sniffing.

"Shh. That's okay, c'mon." John said as he helped her over to the 
couch. 

She sighed as they sat down, staring at her hands as they twisted the 
fabric of his handkerchief. After a long silence she looked up at 
him. "I called my mother this morning."

Doggett's jaw clenched tightly. Considering what she'd said earlier, 
he knew it couldn't be good. He nodded for her to continue.

Scully looked away, her throat tightening up again. "She wouldn't 
talk to me," she whispered. 

Doggett sighed painfully, his heart heavy at the pain he heard in her 
voice.

"She can't... I don't think she can forgive me..." she trailed off.

"For givin' William up," he finished, not really a question. She 
nodded. "Doesn't she know-"

Dana shook her head, drawing in another deep breath to calm 
herself. "She wouldn't let me explain. I tried to tell her, but... I 
think this was the last straw. She just didn't want to hear it. I 
tried to talk to my brother, but he couldn't see past Mulder leaving 
and blames him, just like always. This was just an opportunity for 
him to try and point out that he was right. He doesn't give a damn 
about me or the truth!" she said, grasping onto the anger. 

"Dana..." John whispered.

She closed her eyes, trembling. "All I wanted was a chance to live a 
normal life; to have a family." She opened her eyes and looked at 
him. "Why is that too much to ask?" she asked softly. 

He said nothing, not knowing what he could say.

"Sometimes I want to give up," she whispered, deathly serious.

The air left Doggett's lungs as he gleaned a deeper meaning behind 
her words. "You can't do that," he said, taking her hands in his 
earnestly. 

"I have nothing left to lose..."

He tightened his hands around hers, his heart pounding fearfully in 
his chest. "Promise me you won't do that, Dana. Please," he rasped.

She stared back into his eyes, knowing she could never really do it, 
that she never really would, but desperately needing someone to 
understand. She shook her head at last and sighed, breaking their eye 
contact. "I wouldn't..." she said around the lump in her throat. "I 
just..."

He let out a long breath and reached a hand out to cup her cheek, 
catching a tear with his thumb. "I know," he said softly, 
understanding. "I know. Believe me, I've been there."

She stared at him, a glimmer of hope reaching her eyes. He 
nodded. "How did you... get past that?"

He smoothed his thumb across her cheek once more before letting his 
hand drop. "Well, I found something worth hangin' on for, I guess."

She cocked her head. "What was that?"

He sighed, looking away briefly. "Finding Luke's... my son's killer," 
he said, his gaze moving back to hers. "That's all that drove me, for 
years..."

Compassion filled her eyes and she turned her hands to squeeze his 
gently. He gripped them in answer.

"That was no way to live. You can't let hate be the only thing..." he 
said, his eyes burning into hers.

She closed her eyes and nodded, drawing in a deep breath. She knew 
that, knew from experience what he meant. She'd witnessed some of 
that drive, had seen it control him, knew it was something he still 
struggled with sometimes. She felt some of the weight lift, grateful 
and amazed that he would share something so personal with her. 

"What did you do, after you... after you found *him*?" she asked 
softly. "What did you do then?"

His face softened, his eyes filling with warmth as he met hers. "By 
then I'd found something new," he said.

She blinked, her lips parting in a surprised gasp at what he was 
implying. She dropped her eyes, a flush creeping up her neck as the 
implications whirled through her mind.

John looked away, mistaking her withdrawal as rejection. He stood 
abruptly. "I've got to check on a few things in the kitchen," he said 
gruffly.

"John-" she started, but he was already hurrying from the room.

xxxxxxxxxx

'Goddamn it, what the hell's the matter with you?' he cursed himself. 
He had no business telling her something like that when she was so 
obviously upset. It wasn't fair to her. And now he'd made an absolute 
ass of himself, to top it all off.

Sighing with frustration he forced himself to concentrate on the 
mundane distractions of his kitchen while he considered what the hell 
he should say to her now.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Dana sat staring at her hands, her emotions in turmoil. Had she heard 
him right? If she had... then what he'd said... She knew John had 
always felt his role was to protect her, and he took that very 
seriously, but... did he really just tell her that *she* was his 
reason? Or had she read him wrong? Embarrassed him? Had she pushed 
him into revealing something he wasn't comfortable with her knowing?

She wondered if it would be better for her to just leave. Her 
emotions were clouding her judgment and she didn't want to end up 
doing something stupid that might jeopardize their friendship. She 
had nothing else left in her life. His friendship was more important 
than a chance. Wasn't it?

She looked up as John stepped back into the living room, his hands on 
his hips. He said nothing for a long moment and she stood slowly, 
concern in her eyes.

He sighed. "I shouldn'ta said that," he said, his voice low and rough.

Dana's heart was pounding in her chest as she gulped in some air. She 
took a step towards him. "Why not?"

His eyes jerked up to hers tensely, searching for something there. 
She wasn't sure what he saw, but he shied away from it, clearing his 
throat and dropping his gaze. "Dinner's almost ready-" he started but 
she cut him off.

"Maybe I should go?" she suggested wearily.

"No!" he said, taking a step towards her. "I mean...you don't..." he 
stammered before trailing off. He let out a breath. "Please stay." 

She met his eyes warily. "Are you sure?"

"Positive," he said without hesitation. 

She nodded slowly. "Can I, uh, at least help with the table?" she 
said, trying to ease the tension.
 
He relaxed visibly and nodded. "Yeah, sure. Of course."

"Okay," she said.

They stood staring at each other for a moment. 

"Okay," John echoed and turned back to the kitchen as she followed.

They set the table in silence, John content to let her organize their 
place settings in whatever manner she preferred. In no time he was 
dishing out their food and they sat quietly to eat.

Dana's appetite returned with a vengeance at the first forkful of 
turkey and she closed her eyes to savor the taste. It was delicious 
and she couldn't help but flash briefly on thoughts of her mother and 
Bill, Tara and Mathew all sitting down to a similar feast. And how, 
were it not for the generosity of the man sitting across from her, 
she would have been at home alone, probably picking over her 
Swanson's turkey TV-Dinner, or in at the office, doing paperwork and 
feeling sorry for herself. She smiled gratefully at him.

He smiled back, a look of relief passing over his face. "Good?" he 
asked.

She nodded, her smile growing. "More than good. It's perfect. I'm 
very impressed." 

He grinned, his face flushing with embarrassed pleasure at her 
compliment. "I'm glad you like it."

She sobered, staring at him across the table. "I'm glad I came."

He met her eyes and nodded, feeling something in the air shift. "So 
am I," he said softly.

"Thank-you for asking me. I... I appreciate it."

"Anytime, Dana. Anytime you want, you're welcome," he answered, his 
words holding so much more than what they said.

She smiled, though she couldn't hold his gaze. "Be careful. I might 
just take you up on that, now that I know what I'm missing," she half-
kidded, aware of the tension that was flaring between them.

"You should. I'd like that..." he said, his stomach fluttering with a 
mix of anticipation and apprehension.

She raised her eyes to his. "So would I."

They stared at each other again, a current like electricity flowing 
unspoken between them, before both finally lowered their eyes with 
self-conscious smiles.

Much of the rest of their meal was spent in companionable silence 
with Dana giving John the occasional compliment on a particularly 
tasty dish, until they both pushed their plates away contentedly.

Dana leaned back, taking a sip of her wine as she watched Doggett 
through heavy lidded eyes. "Hmmmm," she hummed. "I'm ready for a nap."

"Turkey drug," said Doggett, covering his mouth as he yawned himself.

"Ogh!" she chastised him as she gave an answering yawn, shaking her 
head. 

He chuckled. "So, you want some a' that pie?"

She groaned. "Let me recover from this for a bit first, if that's 
okay."

He laughed again but agreed and suggested they move to the living 
room to watch some football while their food digested.


Dana was happy to note that the uneasiness between them had 
evaporated and they were able to sit on the couch, comfortable 
together.

"Are you much of a football fan?" John asked her as he turned on the 
television with the remote.

She smiled, tilting her head as she considered her answer. "Not so 
much a fan... it's more that I enjoyed watching my family watch it. 
My father especially. I used to watch it just to share the experience 
with him."

Doggett smiled, turning towards her, the TV forgotten. "That's nice. 
You musta been close with your dad."

Scully nodded, her face softening as she remembered. "Yeah. I was."

"Daddy's girl," he teased. "I bet you had him wrapped around your 
little finger..."

She ducked her head, her hair falling in front of her face as she 
blushed inexplicably. "I don't know about that... We had our clashes. 
Especially over my choice of career."

Doggett raised his eyebrows. "Really? How come?"

She pulled her feet up under her legs, turning to face him more 
directly. "He didn't want me to join the Bureau. He thought I was 
throwing away my chance at a *real* career," she said sighing. 

"A *real* career?"

"In medicine. A doctor or surgeon... Not an F.B.I. Agent."

"But he must've seen eventually that you're a fantastic 
investigator?" he pressed.

She met his eyes, surprised. "Um, not really, no," she said, 
embarrassed by his unexpected praise. She cleared her throat. "He 
passed away shortly after I went on active field duty. We didn't talk 
about my work." She frowned, remembering the bitter arguments she'd 
had with Ahab, desperately trying to make him understand a choice 
that she herself hadn't really been sure she understood. It had been 
the first real thing she'd stood up to him over, and the last time 
she truly felt like Daddy's Little Girl.

"Hey," John called to her softly and she looked up at him with a 
start. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," he said.

She gave him a melancholy smile. "It's okay, I'm not. Just..."

"Remembering?"

She nodded. 

He reached out and touched her knee gently and she smiled at the 
gesture, but it soon faded, her eyes far away. 

"I haven't been home for Thanksgiving in ages," she said, returning 
to their earlier conversation suddenly. "I don't know why it's 
bothering me so much this year."

"Sure you do," he said, following her easily, his voice barely above 
a whisper.

She met his eyes in surprise and after a moment she nodded, conceding 
the point.  "I'm alone... I've lost everything..." She had to bite 
her lip against the sudden threat of tears.

He sat up, shifting closer to her. He wanted to tell her that she 
wasn't alone, that she still had him, but he knew that he 
wasn't 'everything' to her. "Things will get better."

Her lip curled in a sardonic smile. "They can't get any worse."

John leaned towards her and smoothed his fingers across her cheek in 
a gentle caress, his face filled with sadness. "I wish I could give 
you happiness," he whispered.

Dana blinked, surprised again, and sighed heavily, guilty that she'd 
never let him know how much he truly meant to her. "You do," she told 
him, covering his hand with her own. She drew in a hitching breath, 
her eyes moist. "You're such a good man," she said, her voice 
catching. 

He shook his head, his jaw twitching. "No I'm not," he said 
regretfully, his hand falling away.

She caught his fingers, shaking her head that she didn't understand.

"I wouldn't be thinking... the way I am if I was," he admitted 
finally, his heart pounding, his eyes meeting hers meaningfully.

Instantly, the tension flared between them again and she swallowed, 
her lips parting as her gaze dipped slightly to his mouth before 
moving back up to his eyes. "What way are you thinking?" she 
whispered, her breath quickening. 

John swallowed nervously. "The wrong way."

Something warm seemed to spread through her and she reached out to 
smooth her hand across the fabric of his shirt, her fingers acting of 
their own will. "What if... what if I said ...so am I?" she asked, 
breathless, her stomach clenching with amazed anticipation. 

John's eyes widened and he sucked in a sharp breath as her fingers 
trailed fire everywhere they touched. "Then I'd say you weren't 
thinking straight..." he rasped, his chest heaving as her tongue ran 
over her lips, leaving them moist and inviting. 

"Maybe neither of us are..." she said softly.

They stared hard at each other, both afraid to move. 

'Do it,' Scully told herself. 'Don't let this moment go.' She shifted 
towards him, rising up on her knees slightly. Her heart beat almost 
painfully in her chest as she met the piercing blue of his eyes, now 
level with her own.

"Dana," John whispered, part question, part plea. 

With one final push she bridged the gap between them, her lips 
meeting his gently as her eyes closed. 

It was sweet and it was soft; warm and perfect. 

She blushed as they separated, a small, pleased smile on her face. 

John smiled back at her, his eyes wide and bright as he ran his 
fingers across her cheek in incredulous wonder. "Wow," he whispered.

She chuckled, biting her lip bashfully.

John let out a laugh, unused to such shyness from her. "Wow," he said 
again.

"What?" she breathed, her fingers trailing over a bicep.

He shrugged, his arm tingling where she touched him. "I guess... 
sometimes two wrongs can make a right, after all." 

They smiled shyly at each other.

"That was a 'right' was it?" she laughed softly, happier at that 
moment than she had been in a very long time. 

He touched her cheek again, his face turning serious. "Sure felt 
right to me."

Her smile softened and she nodded. "Yeah. It did." 

He smiled sweetly and leaned in to catch her lips again, this time 
with more confidence. As she tilted her head to meet him he wove his 
fingers through her hair, his other hand settling against her throat, 
thumb measuring the vibrations of her larynx as she hummed against 
him.

Splaying her hands across his chest, she marveled at how solid he 
felt, and firm. She could feel the fast and steady rhythm of his 
heart beating beneath her palms and the growing urgency of his lips 
on hers. He growled deep in his throat and she felt a searing jolt of 
arousal go through her. Parting her lips with a gasp she welcomed his 
hot breath into her mouth.

John groaned as her tongue met his, pulling her to him tightly. 

She drew him down with her as she fell back against the cushions, his 
mouth hot, tongue thick against hers. His weight settled over her, 
pressing her down into the soft cocoon of the couch, his smell all 
around, invading her senses like a drug. 

And it was so good. 

They kissed for what seemed like hours, sometimes lazily, sometimes 
urgent with desire, until at last they pulled apart, quiet laughter 
between them to ease the tension and cool things down. They weren't 
ready for more than this yet, not today, and they both recognized 
that. Still, it was with no little regret that John lifted himself 
off her and moved to his side of the couch so she could sit up.

She was all shy smiles again as he took her hand in his and squeezed 
it affectionately. Maybe neither of them were thinking straight, but 
he didn't care. Maybe that was what being in love was all about. His 
smile broadened as he gave a small laugh of acknowledgement and when 
she asked why, he promised he'd tell her some day.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but she smiled and didn't push.

"C'mere," he said, his arm draping around her shoulders as she curled 
into him, her hand resting next to her head where it lay against his 
chest, a smile still on her lips. He buried his nose in her hair, 
inhaling her scent, and pressed his lips to her scalp, sighing 
contentedly.

Scully let her eyes fall closed as John's fingers ran through her 
hair. She marveled at the day, amazed at how quickly things could 
change. This morning she'd been in a world black with loneliness and 
despair. John Doggett hadn't fixed everything that was wrong in her 
life, but he'd given her a light, one that she hadn't even known 
existed. One she hadn't even known she'd wanted until today.

"Whatcha thinkin'?" Doggett whispered into her hair.

She smiled. "About... how things can change so quickly. Unexpectedly." 
She sighed against the even rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

"Too quickly?" he said softly, suddenly worried.

"Hmmm, no. No," she said, turning to look up at him. She ran her 
fingers across his chin, grazing his lips. "Just right, this time, I 
think."

He let out a breath. "I should tell ya..." he started, clearing his 
throat. "I, uh, went lookin' for ya this mornin'."

She blinked up at him, her head cocking to the side slightly. "What 
do you mean?"

John coughed again and ran his hand over his mouth. "I was... I... I just 
had this feelin' that you might be there. I couldn't let it go. So I 
went in. I didn't know how you'd take that, so I... I made up an excuse 
for bein' there."

Scully sat up, her brow creased. "What made you think I'd be there?"


He shook his head, frowning at himself. "I don't know. There was 
something... all week you've been kinda distant, preoccupied. I 
couldn't help but wonder if it was `cause of the holiday, I guess. I 
didn't want you to be unhappy," he said, stroking her cheek softly.

She gave him a sad smile and nodded slightly. "I was unhappy this 
morning," she whispered, touched by his thoughtfulness.

"I know you were."

She leaned back into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. "You 
can't fix everything that's wrong in my life," she whispered into his 
chest. He closed his eyes with a sigh and she squeezed him 
warmly. "But I'm not unhappy now."

Doggett opened his eyes and stared down at her. "You're not?"

She smiled. "No. Not now."

A grin snuck onto his lips as he tightened his arms around her. "How 
come?" he asked, his eyes twinkling.

Her grin matched his. "Kiss me," she answered, and pulled his mouth 
down to hers.

And he did.