|Life with My Girl, Reyes|
|Just A Little Monday Night Football|
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Just A Little Monday Night Football
DISCLAIMER: The characters of Monica Julieta Reyes, Dana Katherine Scully and all other Original X-Files characters included within this story belong to Chris Carter, the Fox Broadcasting Network & 1013 Productions and are being used here without their permission. I am just borrowing all characters for a little while to satisfy my own needs and desires for their otherwise rather boring lives.
Rating: Soft R (Possible PG-13)
Category: Friendship, Romance, Love
MyGirlReyes' SRR FanFic Timeline: It's around 8:30 PM on a Monday night in Early-to-Mid October, 2001. William is seven-months-old. Dana and Monica have been in a committed relationship for about six months.
Summary: John and Monica need a night off. Dana does, too. Monday Night Football is on and the three best friends make the most of it.
Author's Note: This story is written in first-person from Dana's POV.
Feedback: Yes please. You may send it to MyGirlReyes. Thanks!
Permission to Archive: Please ask for permission before archiving anywhere. Keep all Disclaimers, Author's Notes and Special Notes with the story at all times. Thanks!
Date Archived: Started: October 8, 2004. Finished: October 18, 2004. Archived: October 20, 2004
Dana Scully's Kitchen ~ On a Monday Night ~ 8:30 PM:
"Oh," I sigh. I am so tired. Very. Very tired. And it's only Monday night. Wow. The first weeknight of my workweek. But I still have much to do before tomorrow morning. For one thing, I still need to get my lesson-plan prepared and organized before tomorrow morning's lecture. Now that I am an instructor, my days and nights are quite different. I'm still adjusting to the change, but right now, I just need to concentrate on feeding my son.
He's babbling and cooing to me, waving his empty baby-spoon all around in the air, as we converse and he tells me about his day. He's sitting in my lap tonight. It's so much easier than trying to put him in the highchair. I think maybe he is still a little too young for the highchair anyway; and, too, I enjoy holding him. I hardly ever get the chance to just hold him, and enjoy him; although I am holding him and trying to feed him right now.
I chuckle at his babbling. I have no idea what he is trying to say to me. But I listen and respond to him anyway. Because I know how important it is for me to listen to him. It is so imperative for me as his mother to listen, react and respond to his various attempts at verbal communication with me. He is learning more and more everyday how to be understood, just as I am learning more and more everyday how to understand him until he can say his words with more clarity. I need to encourage him every day in every way that I can. I use my eyes and expressions, shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders, when he squeals at me.
God. He's so adorable. Whoa! And he almost took my nose off with his meandering spoon just now. Oh my. He is my son. I clasp his hand and laugh as I throw my elbow up on the table for a moment and rest my chin inside my palm, just to watch him. God. He's so adorable.
Whew. Wow. I lean back in my chair for a moment. Um, um. I am so tired. I admit it. I am so very tired. But, luckily, I had a rather easy day at the Academy today, with no immediate crises to attend to, but just doing my usual: teaching my students about the Forensic Sciences and helping them with their studies. But what they come up with sometimes, with some of their off-the-wall theories, simply amazes me. Maybe all of the Sci-Fi television shows, movies and movie channels are helping them to broaden their minds a little, and see what might be, or maybe could be hidden just below the surface, instead of only what they can see. I donít know. But I must say I never have a boring day with my students. They fascinate me.
I never realized how much I would enjoy teaching until leaving the X-Files and rejoining the Academy. It has been a rather daunting experience, but fun; and much more stable with regular work hours than I ever had working with Mulder or John. And, interestingly, I am not that much older than some of my students but, wow! Do I ever feel older. I guess it just comes with motherhood and having an infant to take care of now. I don't know. But I am up most nights late, trying to juggle my duties, take care of William, run my household, and prepare my lesson-plans for the following day. It can be rather daunting. Sometimes it takes so much out of me. I never seem to find the time anymore over a weekend to prepare ahead of time for much of anything. It can be so frustrating because of that. But I am beginning to find my routine. And with my lover Monica's help I am maintaining.
Gosh. I just don't know what I would do without her sometimes. She is a godsend when it comes to William. And, actually, she is a godsend when it comes to me, too, in so many ways. I am so blessed to have her in my life. God knew what He was doing when He put her into my life. She truly is my Lucky Charm.
I glance up from the table to see my Lucky Charm sitting across the room smiling at me. Her back is to me. She's sitting on my couch in my living room, and yet she has glanced over her shoulder so she can look at me, smiling and winking playfully. Oh gosh. I think I just blushed. She does that to me sometimes. She's the only one that has ever been able to make me blush. Crap. I swear. It can be so embarrassing. But I can make her blush just about any time I want to, too, so, Even-Steven, you know?
"Here you go, baby." I give my son another quick bite of his mashed potatoes then glance back up to her.
Oh wow. She's still looking at me with that ever familiar look in her eye. The game should be starting soon, and yet she obviously still feels the need to watch over my son and me, concerned as ever for my and my son's welfare. Gosh, if I could just somehow help her to relax when it comes to me. But I don't know how. I just don't know. Maybe it was the way we met. Or the way that night went down in Georgia when I delivered William. Or maybe the night at the train station a few months ago, when she literally ran, jumped, grabbed and then pushed me out of the way of that bullet intended for me, or - Wow! I just don't know. But, as I think about it, no wonder she stays so worried about me all the time. Gosh. And working in the X-Files Unit doesn't help, when she sees all of the old casefiles, the times I've been abducted, kidnapped, hurt, critically injured, shot, diagnosed with cancer, then the remission, then Ė Wow! No wonder she stays so concerned. It's too much! It's almost too much for me to handle too, at times. God! I need her. How I need her strength. And more than I think she even realizes most times, because many times I'm afraid I'll run out.
Ohhh. She's still smiling at me. Darn. I just grinned at her then winked back. She chuckles then glances down at my son again. I raise an eyebrow at her then nod towards our houseguest, my closest ally and her best friend, John Doggett, then nod towards the TV, silently communicating to her that she needs to settle down, enjoy her game and Monday Night Football with John - the game that she has been talking to me about almost nonstop for three days now, and let me finish up with William.
She winks at me then glances down for a moment almost bashful - appearing to feel almost guilty or something for not continuing to sit back here at the kitchen table with me, helping me eat and feeding me pizza, as I finish feeding William in the process.
Oh Moni. God. She doesn't need to feel guilty. Nor does she need to feel as if she needs to help me with every single thing I do every single night. She has enough to deal with keeping her own place up and working fulltime; and then putting in all of the extra hours of overtime in for the Bureau and working with John in the Unit. My God! Wow! And do I ever know about all of that extra overtime. Soon, you begin to feel as if you have no other life but work. And really, you don't. Not unless you put forth the effort and work extra hard to not allow the job to take over your life. Gosh. And that is possible. Mulder never thought so. But I have learned my lesson. There is more to life than the Bureau or the X-Files. Moni has helped me to learn that. She has taught me that lesson over the last few months. And thank God! I don't do that anymore. I've learned my lesson between duty and obsession. Oh, I still have to work overtime on occasion. But it happens so rarely now; only when she or John calls me in on a case. But the older William gets, the less and less they call me in. And I know why. It's because they both love and respect me so much.
Plus, Monica, I swear. She is so darn protective of me. She is determined to take it upon herself - as if I have asked her to - to make sure that I don't get overworked, or called in on a case too much, or put in too many overtime hours of work during the week. Gosh. But, actually, I rather like the arrangement. It is so nice to have someone watch over me, love me and take care of me like that for a change. I never would have believed that I would have ever said anything like that either. I've always been so independent; and a very determined woman. Determined to make my mark in the world, and make a difference in people's lives, solving cases, protecting the innocent, stopping the madness, and, well, I can still do that. But I can also maintain a good balance in my life. Oh yes, Monica is teaching me more and more every day about how to keep a good balance in my life.
So, with all of that said, and the extra overtime Monica has been putting in over the last few weeks herself, this is her night, her leisure time, her time to find her balance and enjoy her game. Monday Night Football. That is her game. We discussed it last week. And we decided to order pizza in for this week. John brought the beer. And now I am finishing up with Wills feeding him his last meal for the night.
I glance back up. Oh God. Somehow, she knows and turns to wink at me again. I smile then wink back at her, silently communicating with her to just settle in, settle down, and enjoy her game, her night off with our friend, and just have some fun while I finish up with Wills. She needs to quit worrying about me. darn. Everything is just fine back here in the kitchen with Wills and me. We are having a good time.
Settle down, baby. I glance at her again then kiss Wills on the cheek. He babbles and coos then reaches for his baby-cup. I chuckle with pride.
Gosh. He is doing so well with learning how to drink from his baby-cup. He still occasionally drinks from a bottle, but Moni and I are teaching him how to hold and coordinate his efforts with his own special baby-cup for a little juice, watered-down Koolaid or milk.
He drinks, then blubbers, spilling most of it out and down his little chin. Ohhh. I chuckle again at his little efforts then wipe his darling little chin dry with his bib then coax him into taking another bite of his spinach.
Oooh. Yuck. Spinach. He coos, wrinkles his brow, then chews for a moment then sticks his tongue out at me. I chuckle again at his antics. Oh boy. He's my boy. And I love him so much.
I glance back up to the living room. The game is starting, and my lover and her best friend are finally settling in on the couch, drinking a couple of beers together and eating another piece of pizza, while getting much more interested in the game.
Finally. It's about time. I thought they never would. Good grief. And I know that very soon it will become very interesting for me, too, to sit quietly and watch, listen, and chuckle to myself as they discuss and enjoy their game. This is something they both share: the love of football, Monday Night Football.
Ugh. Football. I never cared for the game myself. But if it gives her joy and happiness, then let her watch her game, right? Ugh. Football. I shake my head then give Wills' another bite of his spinach while I think back to the quite revealing conversation I had with one of my students this afternoon just before I left.
Oh gosh. Good grief! I think this one has a crush on me Ė a very big, glaring crush - which is actually not that uncommon I guess, given the circumstances. Hum. Affairs. Between professors and students. Um, um. It happens all the time. I should know. I had one myself years ago with one of my older professors while I was in med school. I never told Moni about that. Guess I should at some point. But, anyway. I must admit that it was rather flattering to know that I've "still got it" after all these years and a baby in tow to one of my youngest students in the large lecture hall. Wow! I'm still "hot". Well, alright! I'm still a "hot babe!" he said to me today. I chuckle then take another quick bite of my pizza. Umhum. A "hot babe".
Hum. Um, um, um. I chuckle to myself again. I guess I'll need to tell Moni about it soon. She won't get jealous. Crap! She'll get a kick out of it. Besides, there's nothing to be jealous about! Hum. Maybe she can help me come up with a good way to handle this situation, and in the most appropriate manner, without hurting his feelings. I certainly don't want to hurt this young man's feelings, or cause him to leave my class just because of a crush. But then I must set the boundaries. Soon. Very soon. Gosh. Crap! I was shocked at what he said and described to me earlier today. My, my, my. Most adventurous. And quite daring, too. Whew. I chuckle. I think I actually broke a sweat as I visualized the possibilities. Good grief. My, my, my. And you'd think I'd know how to handle it, with all of the previous young, amorous and audacious flirting I used to do with that older professor of mine myself, after that quick affair back in med school. But there is no way that it will be happening with this teacher, this professor, this forensics instructor, this Doctor of Forensic Medicine and with this young student. No way. I glance back up to my lover again. Oh no. No way. I already have everything I could ever want or need in this woman as I look across the table at her and admire her long, dark, flowing hair, her strong back and broad shoulders, her muscular, well-defined deltoids, and strong, flexing biceps, and most especially, her sweet, gentle and adorable manner, as she converses with John Doggett then takes another swig of her beer.
I smile again. Oh gosh. I melt. I just melt watching her sometimes. Whew. Gosh. If I keep watching her, I'm going to break a sweat right now! In this kitchen! Whew! Gosh! For Crissakes! I think I just did! God! She melts me. Hum.
I keep watching her silently as she laughs and giggles and pokes John in the bicep, giggling and teasing him about something. They look so happy together, and no. I am not jealous of their friendship. They have the most beautiful friendship. They are truly the best of friends, and I owe them both so much. They both gave me my life back in their own special ways. They are two of the best people in my life. And I am holding number three.
Oop. Yep. I knew it. I knew if I kept watching her long enough, she'd slap him on the bicep again, then take another good, long swig off her beer before setting it back down on the table. She loves her beer. And Monday Night Football.
Ugh. Gosh. Football.
Sometimes I think I've lost my lover to Saturday, Sunday and Monday Night Football. And it's not even the end of October yet. Good grief. But it's all she talks about. College and Professional football. Ugh. Gosh. Football. I really don't care for the game at all, but, times and circumstances can change. So, I guess I need to learn more about it if we are ever to have any remotely intelligent conversation about this game called football.
Hum. Gosh. Guess I need to pick up a copy of Football for Dummies or The Idiot's Guide to Football or something.
I feel a smirk coming on.
Oops. Wills squeals reaching for his baby-cup then knocks it over. Whoa, yikes! But I quickly grab it up, just in time. Yep. Mommy quickly grabbed it up and saved the day. Just in time. Before we had a nice, big mess on the kitchen table. Thank goodness for baby-cups and plastic lids.
I hand his special cup back to him and let him take another big swig of his juice then coax him into taking another bite of his spinach.
He babbles and coos, thanking me I guess. I don't know. I laugh, because now he's sticking his tongue out at me again with his little brow all wrinkled and frustrated.
He is not enjoying this little bite of his spinach either. I chuckle again. I really don't blame him. I never liked my spinach either. I chuckle at his antics then wipe his darling little mouth and cheeks off with a towel then try for another bite of something different. Maybe his carrots.
Oh, yes. There you go, baby. My sweet baby boy. He takes such a good, big bite of his carrots.
I glance back up from the table to my lover again and smile, chuckling softly to myself, as I listen and watch her and her best friend argue the latest strategies between the two opposing teams that are playing tonight.
I am not even sure who is playing. All I know is my lover has been waiting for this particular game all weekend. Ugh. Gosh. Football. It is all I have been hearing about all weekend. Good grief. I would have never dreamed when I first fell in love with Monica Reyes that I would be damning myself - during football season anyway - to the Football Widow Syndrome. Although, that is not really true, or fair. Because. just as I think about it, she glances back over the couch at me, catches my eye, then smiles and winks at me, practically blowing me a kiss with her wink and a smile.
Oh no. I am no Football Widow. She would never allow me to become a Football Widow - feeling ignored, or taken for-granted, during football season.
She smiles at me again then glances down to Wills giving him a quick little wink and smile, too.
He sees her wink, babbles and coos in response, then reaches towards her for a moment, babbling and cooing, and presumably telling me that he wants me to hurry up with dinner and carry him over there to her.
Oh my. I understand his wishes and smirk. Sometimes I think I have lost my son to my lover as well.
She cocks an eyebrow at him. "No sweetie. Finish your carrots first, then you can come see me," she says then glances back up to me and winks.
He babbles and coos then grunts with slight frustration.
I chuckle, then smile in appreciation as I coax him into taking another bite.
He babbles and coos about the prospect then opens his chubby little mouth wide for another big bite of his carrots.
Moni and I both giggle and laugh at his playful antics.
Wow. What a good baby I have. He is just so good, and so darling. How could I be so lucky? I glance up to find her still watching us and keeping that ever-protective eye over us. Actually, she is usually the one helping him eat his evening meal most nights. So I guess she does feel a little awkward watching me do it for a change while she relaxes on the couch. But again, this is her night, and her time to enjoy. It is my gift to her, giving her the night off when it comes to helping me take care of my son. She can still come over to the apartment, and be with me, but she needs to quit feeling as if she has to help me all the time, and help me with my son, every single time that she is around us. That's not fair. It's not fair to her or to me. It's hard being in a relationship and having a baby all at the same time. It's so hard! But, it's workable. We are finding our way. But she is so giving. Too giving sometimes, I think. And I think many would take advantage of her and her willingness to help out so much. Actually, I have to guard against that myself at times, to make sure that I don't fall into that same trap. And take advantage of her giving heart. But it is just so hard having a baby and being in a relationship all at the same time. It's hard to find the balance, and know just how much to allow her to help, and when to say "no," "it's not your time", "time for you to take a break".
Hum. Good grief. I chuckle. She says that to me all the time. 'Time for you to take a break, honey.' She says that to me all the time. You'd think Wills was her son, too, the way she helps out with him and takes on so much of the responsibility. And I donít ask her to do it either. Honestly, I don't. She just does it, telling me that it's part of being in a relationship with a woman that has a child. Oh gosh. I don't know. I just want her to enjoy some quality time off with John tonight. They need it. They both put in a lot of overtime last week and they both need it. We all three do.
Hum. I smile at her again then cock an eyebrow. She likes it when I cock my eyebrow. I learned that a long time ago. She really likes it a lot.
She grins then glances back down to Wills again.
He quickly chews and swallows his carrots then babbles and coos reaching out for her once again. Oh my. He adores her.
"Good boy," she says then giggles, making a big, funny face at him, pretending to take a big, huge bite of something out of the air, and then exaggerates her chewing motions, making him giggle and squeal in response.
Oh my. He adores her. I begin to laugh myself at her funny antics. I donít know which one is worse either when you get the two of them together in the same room. I swear, I think they try to outdo each other at times on which one can make the funniest face. No wonder he adores her. He adores me, too. But he adores her just as much. But I don't mind. I rather adore her myself as I watch her tease and play with my son while I finish feeding him his last few bites of dinner. Oh, yes. I adore her, my Lucky Charm. Like mother, like son I guess.
She suddenly gets up from the couch. I cock an eyebrow at her. Again. I have no idea what she is doing. She has something hidden behind her back as she walks towards me.
"What are you doing?" I finally say furrowing my brow.
"Giving you the last piece," she says as she pulls the hidden paper plate from behind her back filled with the last piece of pizza.
John glances back at the two of us. Oh gosh. If she keeps on, she's going to make me blush again in front of him.
"Here, I saved it for you," she grins then kneels down beside me and places the tip within a couple of inches of my mouth. Wills grabs for it, but I'm too fast as I quickly take a bite. Oh yum, I chew, then we both burst out laughing as he gets a good hold on the other end.
"Whoa! No sweetie, that's for Mummy," she says then pinches off a little piece for him to hold onto - and eat - whenever he finishes playing with the mushrooms and tomato sauce.
I quickly finish my piece then snort into another fit of laughter. Oh God. I know that John has never seen me quite like this before, but I am snorting - loud - with laughter. Ohhh. William is smearing the tomato sauce all over his face and cheeks.
Monica then bursts out laughing at his silly antics, too. "Wills, whatchya doin', little man?" she giggles beginning to smear more of the tomato sauce onto the tip of his nose.
He babbles and coos then squeals heartily back to her.
She laughs again at his darling little antics then grins at me. "Here honey, take another bite. I'll clean him up in a minute," she offers me another big bite of pizza from the large piece she still holds in her hand.
I quit laughing long enough to take another quick bite.
She chuckles then wipes a little tomato sauce off from the side of my mouth, too, then takes Wills from my lap, long enough for me to eat the rest of my pizza while she washes him up behind me by the kitchen sink.
Oh my. I can hear all of the splashing, squealing and giggling going on behind me. They are making such a big game of it, playing in the water, cleaning him up, and washing the tomato sauce from his chubby little cheeks, nose and hands.
John just watches and laughs at all the funny antics going on behind me in my kitchen.
Within a minute, she brings my baby boy back to me so I can finish feeding him his carrots and spinach.
He squeals and babbles and tells me all about it.
I take him back then offer him another bite of carrots.
Wow. I'm amazed. He actually takes a bite. It can't be as good as the tiny piece of pizza he just had for the first time, but he likes carrots. So maybe I can get him to finish his carrots.
"Hey! Mon!" John suddenly yells from the living room. "Come here! Look at this!" he yells again.
The game has only started but something exciting must have just happened.
She looks at me.
"Go on, watch your game," I say.
She grins then hurries back to the living room.
The two of them then sit on the edge of their seats watching all the action as Wills and I just listen from the kitchen.
Crap. I have no idea what is going on, but I am listening. Unfortunately, I really don't understand much of the football lingo. But the announcers are chattering away about the last two plays and the one coming up. It sounds as if one of the teams is within scoring range or something, right at the goal line, with a third and goal. Gosh. The game has just started and yet one of the teams is already near the goal line, about to score.
Within a few seconds, I hear my lover, "Aw shit!"
"You believin' that?!" John chimes in.
"Sheeeyat!" she fusses again.
"They should've run it up the middle! Dadgum! Or called a quarterback sneak! Sheeeyat! I canít believe they did that!"
John just takes a quick swig of his beer.
"Aw craaaaap!" she fusses again.
I giggle again.
"I canít believe they're not going for it. Dadgum! A friggin' field goal that close to the end zone? Sheeyat!" she fusses again.
I chuckle again at her frustrations.
"Game's early, they ain't gonna take no chances," John offers.
"Shit, John! On a forth and inches?! Dadgum it! That close to the end zone? Shit! McNair could have waltzed that baby in!" she counters.
"Aw now," John argues back.
Hum. Sounds like a coaching problem to me. But then what do I know?
I chuckle at my lover's frustrations as I listen to them begin to argue over the coaching strategies of football, and a fourth-and-inches situation on the goal line, on my couch. When it comes to football, my lover is quite a different person. She can be quite competitive, and argumentative as hell. And this, I have only recently discovered. It has been quite intriguing for me indeed to learn about this different side of her.
I listen quietly for the next few minutes to their heated discussion and opposing viewpoints as the game plays on. Hum. I don't really know the game well enough to have an opinion at all. Nor have I been watching or even seen these last few questionable plays. So, I just chuckle at each one's bullheadedness and insistence on proving their opposing viewpoints. I do know that the score is now 3-0, Titans over the Buccaneers. And Moni is for the Titans, while John. I'm not sure.
I rise from the table, carrying my son with me, as I begin to clear some of the dishes off the table and put them into the sink.
Monica quickly glances over her shoulder. "Honey, need me to help?"
Oh God. Monica? "No. I'm fine. Thanks," I say. God. I canít believe that she just called me that again. And in front of John Doggett at that! Holy crap!
She watches me for a moment then turns back to the game. Gosh. I wish sometimes that she would not do that, call me "honey" in front of him. She never does it at work but, still. It embarrasses me for one thing. And I'm not used to it. Although I do like it. But just not in front of John. Shit. Darn. Oh well. I guess it really shouldn't matter, should it? When we're in our own homes and on our own time. He knows about our relationship so, what does it matter? Right?
I continue to listen to their varying points of view on the various coaching strategies of the game. The pros and cons of using the West Coast Offense. When to use a running-play compared to passing-play. The 4-3 Front and Man-to-Man Coverage, compared to a Zone Defense with a Nickel and Dime package - whatever that means - as I one-handedly rinse a few dishes out then put them in the dishwasher. Wills just babbles and coos, talking to me and telling me his opinion, too, on what he thinks a coach should do, or not do, as the game plays on. Oh my. I stop for a moment and just squeeze him tight showing him how much I love him.
Several minutes pass as I continue to listen to the interesting conversation going on inside my living room tonight. Hum. I have never heard so much football talk, football lingo and football strategies discussed before in my life! Crap! I never even knew there was such a thing as a Special Teams. I always thought that they all just ran out there together, lined up and then kicked the darn thing. And then they'd all huddle up together, with their butts stuck up high in the air, and then suddenly they were playing the game. Hum. And both my comrades seem to know the game very well. Much better than I or my brothers ever did. And Bill used to play in high school. Hum. But I don't remember what position he played. I think he was part of the defense. Oh, I don't remember. But I never learned much of anything from him. Guess I never wanted to. Until now. Actually, as I listen more closely to the conversation, I might would argue that my lover might know the game just as well if not better than John Doggett himself. Wow! Or at least she could certainly fool me with all of the terminology, football lingo, play-call strategies, defense strategies, timeout strategies, and explanations as to why one would call one particular offensive play or defense strategy over another. See? I am learning some of the football terminology while I listen. And she did date the quarterback while in college at Brown. So it shouldn't be much of a surprise that she would know the game as well as any quarterback. I'm sure that she was giving him some good lays, offensive plays, and defense strategies at the end of every game.
Hum. I smirk. My straight girlfriend gone gay. I stifle a giggle. Guess I had a lot to do with that. Mmm. Making her fall in love with women after all those years. Well. Making her fall in love with only one woman. Me. After all those years. And giving up all those men. I grin wickedly.
Anyway. Back to the point. I know nothing about the game. And yet everything she has been saying for the last several minutes makes perfect sense to me. Hum. But then what do I know? I chuckle again. What a surprise. I never knew. And what a jolt to a lesser man's ego, if she is right. But our friend John seems to be taking the possibility in stride. Ohhh, but just you wait, big brother of mine. Thanksgiving Day Dinner is coming. I grin at the possibilities.
"Nope. I'd run a screen, third and two," Monica said again. "Or maybe a curl, Kinney and Wycheck, double tight-ends."
"Yep, that'd work," John agrees.
Double tight-ends? I think cocking an eyebrow. What the crap is a double tight-end? I smirk then snort lightly at the thought. Oh yeah. I got it. A tight-end. Okay. I know what a tight-end is.
I glance back over at my lover sitting on my couch. Yep. There's a tight-end. Sitting right there. Planted on my couch. A very nice tight-end indeed.
Oh my. I smirk then chuckle again. And actually, I've got a pair of very nice tight-ends, sitting on my living room couch at the moment. Double tight-ends. Because John has a darling tight-end, too. That is if I were into men. I grin.
The Second Quarter is almost over. I've been working hard at my kitchen table. With textbooks, medical books and references books scattered about all over the place, as I put my latest lesson-plan together for my students tomorrow, finalizing and getting prepared for the classroom. I hear my son squeal happily again. I glance up. I can't help it. Just a mother's instinct I guess. Generally, I am able to drown out any busy noise or distracting chatter when I need to in order for me to concentrate on my work. But, my son's happy squeals get to me every time.
I grin then ease back in my chair for a moment to watch a little more closely as my lover plays with him.
Ohhh. She's teasing him, as John watches, too, holding him up high in the air, then gently lowering him down to her face and forehead, causing him to squeal and babble, as she kisses and rubs noses with him. Oh my. She loves him. It is so obvious. And right now, this high-priority game of hers has obviously taken a second, if not a very low third place on her priority list. My son is obviously a very high first. And I am a very, very close second I quickly realize, as she glances over her shoulder at me, smiles then winks at me, then kisses and rubs noses with my son again. Oh gosh. I grin again as my heart just melts inside my chest. I can't help it. I melt. I just melt. I melt every time she smiles at me. I love her so much.
She then glances back over to me again noticing that I am obviously not working on my lesson-plan at the moment. "You about finished?" she asks.
"Good. Then come over here and watch the game with us for a little bit."
I look at her then cock my eyebrow. "I know nothing about that game," I say.
"Oh, honey, come on. Wills and I can teach you," she grins.
Oh God. Moni? I glance at John again. Crap. She has just called me "honey" again. My gosh. Moni? Christ! Oh well. John doesn't seem to care. So why should I? Right?
I get up from the kitchen table then walk towards my living room planning to sit down beside her for at least a few minutes while they watch the game.
She smiles then bumps John's shoulder giving him the heads-up to move his tight little end of a butt over so that I can squeeze in and sit down.
"Oh! Yeah! Agent Scully!" He begins to move. "You been missin' a good game!" he says, taking another quick swig of his beer while I lower myself down to the couch.
I look at him with a slight smirk. "John Doggett," I say. "You know you don't have to call me Agent Scully when you're in my home on a night off, right?"
He grins bashfully then takes another quick swig of his beer, then turns his gaze back to the TV.
"Yeeah," he replies, winks at me then turns back to his game.
Monica just giggles then leans in and puts her arm around me holding me close and pulling me in even closer to her and my son.
Oh my God. Moni? Holy crap. I canít believe... Oh well. Just go with it. John doesnít care, right? So why should I?
I then close my eyes and lean my head in against her shoulder. Oh God. It feels so good to lean in against her. For crissakes. I am so tired. I can hardly keep my eyes open. But I love this woman. And I want to have at least a few minutes of extra time with her sitting here on my couch all snuggled in before we turn in for the night.
Halftime is over and the Third Quarter has started. Some kind of penalty thing is going on right now, roughing-the-passer or something, and a holding-call. I don't know. And then there was a coach's-challenge earlier, something about whether the man was inside or out-of-bounds when he crossed the goal line. I donít know. It looked like he got a touchdown to me. All I know is, football games run long. And we've been sitting here for at least ten minutes waiting for all of the commercials to finish, the coach's-challenge thing to finish, and the called penalties to be sorted out. Wow. Good grief. But other sports events can go just as long I guess. Whew. I'll just be glad when they start playing again. The sooner the better.
I glance down at my son. He has fallen asleep in Monica's lap and against her chest with his little cheek resting comfortably against her shoulder. He looks so peaceful, like a little angel, my angel. Wow. He is getting so big now. I can hardly believe it, as I take a better look at him and how big he is getting, how he fills her lap and chest now, his little body all tucked in. My gosh. He is amazing. I think he could sleep through just about anything. The blaring TV has not seemed to bother his sleep in the least. I smile.
Monica glances over to me, then winks, then lightly kisses him on the crown. He's just snoozing away, sound asleep in her arms. Actually, I can't wait to be sound asleep in her arms myself. But, at the rate this game is going, that's not going to be happening any time soon. Gosh. Darn. Crap. I would guess that this game could last for at least another hour or so. Gosh. Darn. Crap. But, that's Monday Night Football.
Ugh. Darn. Football. Oh well. At least I am learning more about the game, as I sit here and watch with three of my most favorite people in all the world. Moni's been so good about explaining the different running-plays, passing-plays, the I-Formation and Under-Center, compared to a Split-Back or a Shotgun Formation. And how that one can almost guess what type of play they're going to run by the personnel they've got lined up on the field, or even where they're lined up in reference to the line-of-scrimmage. Gosh. Darn. Wow. I never knew.
And sometimes you can have two backs, a fullback and a halfback, with a tight-end and two wide receivers; or one tight-end and four wide receivers; or maybe a back, a tight-end and three wide receivers, or, wow. Gosh. Darn. I never knew. I just thought that they all lined up out there in the same place every time. But that's not true. And it all depends on so many things: the score, the points-spread, the amount of time still left on the clock, the amount of timeouts your team still has left, the yards and the down, the match-ups, any injuries your team might have, all sorts of things. Wow. I had no idea how much there was to playing, or at least understanding, this game called football. It's a very hard game to play, I have come to realize. Or at least it sounds very hard to me. Much harder than just a bunch of big, brawny men getting out there and trying to knock each other down before one of them catches the ball and runs it into the end zone. See? I am learning. I'm learning, thanks to John and Monica. My older brother will be quite impressed come Thanksgiving Day Dinner. I smile at the possibilities. Maybe we can play a little game of touch football out in the backyard come Thanksgiving Day afternoon. Moni can be the quarterback and I'll be her tight-end. I grin.
I glance down at my son again. His little sock foot is resting comfortably against my hip. I lean in and kiss him gently on the cheek. He doesnít budge. He is sound asleep, even as Monica has been jumping and squirming occasionally to keep from yelling, hooting and hollering at her team with excitement as they make another good play. I just grin. She is thoroughly enjoying this game. I know enough to know that it is a very good game, and very close. And, so far, the Titans are doing very well, and are beginning to whip the Buccaneers' asses all over the field.
"Oh yeah, look at that. That's my man!" she giggles then puts her arm around William to keep from waking him up from all her sudden movements, as Titans Number 9, Quarterback Steve McNair, runs another ball into the end zone.
I grin at her happiness then lean my head back down against her shoulder. God. I am so happy. And I really don't mind the football anymore. But the games do go rather long. I glance at my watch again then decide to put William to bed.
"You want me to?" she offers to do it for me.
"No baby, watch your game. I can do it," I say as I reach over to take my sleeping son from her arms.
Whoa. Oh my God. I just realized. Wow. I just used my pet name for her in front of John Doggett. Shit. Oh well. What the hell. It's late and he's had his share of beer tonight.
I smile as he glances up with that intoxicated look in his eyes. Oh. He's so cute. Simply adorable. Too bad his ex-wife won't get a grip on life and take him back. He's too good of a man to let just wander around in this life alone. Somebody will reel him in. And then she'll be the fool for ever having let him go in the first place.
Monica helps me get a better grip on my son then whispers, "You sure?"
"Yes baby, I..." Shit.
"No. I can do it. I'll be back." I wink.
"Promise?" she grins slightly intoxicated herself.
Oh my. "Yes," I smile in return. Of course, I'll be back, baby.
She smiles then looks at John. He's sitting there with the cutest little puppy-dog expression on his face grinning from ear-to-ear. Oh my. He rarely sees us like this. So relaxed and in love inside my home. But he knows how crazily-in-love we are with each other. So what the hell, you know? I'm too tired to care. Besides, this has been a night of fun, friendship and relaxation for all of us. I still have a little work to do before class tomorrow morning. But it's nothing I can't do tomorrow before class starts.
I get up, holding my son in my arms, then offer John to get himself another cold beer from the fridge before I take my sleeping son to bed.
After a few minutes, I hear a light peck on the nursery door. My lover enters. Why she felt the need to peck on the door, I have no idea. But then she is slightly intoxicated. And when she's slightly intoxicated she actually gets more polite and childlike. And so very, very charming - as if she's not already adorably charming just as she is.
I smile then ask her why she's not watching the game.
"Miss you," she mumbles then comes over and wraps her arms around me.
"Oh. Well. I'll be back in there in a few minutes," I say. "But I think I might go onto bed in a little. I'm really tired, andÖ"
"I know, gotta get up early."
"Umhum. And so do you."
"Yeah," she giggles then rests her lips against my neck.
Oh God. The feel of her soft lips and warm breath against my neck sends shivers throughout my body. Oh God. What she does to me. And she's not even trying. Damn.
I then lean away. "Moni? Go back to your game, and John, okay?"
"Kay," she grins then leans in for a tender kiss.
"Mmm," I moan into the kiss. Mmm. I just can't help myself. I moan into her gentle kisses every time.
She smiles then tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. We just stand, looing at each other for a few seconds and smile. I then playfully slap her on the butt and order her to get her cute little tight-end of a butt back in there with John and watch the game, and keep him company, too.
She giggles again.
Oh my. There's no telling what our co-worker in there might think if she stays in here giggling with me too much longer.
She then leaves the room as I glance down one more time to my sleeping son. Then I leave the room as well.
I gather my books, notes and briefcase from the kitchen table, set everything by the front door where I usually place it, then say my "goodnights", offer my couch to John for the night then, no. Actually, I insist that he stay the night on my couch, to the point that I have him give me his keys for the night. If I had an extra bed and bedroom I'd have him sleep in there tonight. But, unfortunately, all I have is this couch. But that will be enough to keep his intoxicated tight-end of a butt off the streets tonight.
I begin to chuckle as he begins to mumble and grumble about the prospect, then hands his keys over to me, then laughs at the fact that he's feeling so good and has a really, really good buzz at the moment. "A damn good buzz," he says.
"Oh yeah?" I smirk. Well, well. I'm not surprised as I cock an eyebrow and glance down to the floor at all of the empty beer bottles lining the bottom of his side of the couch. Oh my. Nope. I'm not surprised in the least. Well, well. As long as he doesn't get sick. But, he knows where the bathroom is, just in case. I chuckle again then look at Monica. She smiles then nods as I leave for the bedroom.
"Mmm." I roll over somewhat. From the sounds and lively chatter coming from my living room its sounds as if the Fourth Quarter is almost over and they are down to the two-minute-warning. I can barely hear the chatter from the TV and the chatter from my own living room. I have been sleeping for a while, but I think Monica came into the bedroom just a few moments ago. I'm not sure. I can't swear to it. But I think I felt her presence watching over me for a few moments as I slept.
"Mmm," I sigh again, then clutch her pillow, roll over again, and then drop back off to sleep.
Someone as entered the bedroom. I am almost certain that someone has entered the bedroom. I begin to roll over.
"Honey? They've gone into overtime, and, well," my lover whispers into the darkness as she sits down on the bed.
"Overtime?" I mumble groggily.
"Umhum. Were you asleep?"
"Umm, Umhum," I yawn.
"Oh no, I'm sorry."
"No, it's okay," I say reaching my hand out to her and clasping hers.
"I'll be in bed soon, but it's a really good game, andÖ"
"Shhh, you don't have to explain. Go watch your game."
She then leans down and gives me a gentle little peck on the forehead. "You sure you won't be upset?"
"Okay. I'll be in bed in a few," she says.
"Mmm, okay," I yawn again.
"I love you, go back to sleep."
"Mmm, love you, too," I yawn then roll over again. "Oh. And make sure John sleeps on the couch, or I'll whip his ass tomorrow."
She sat silently on the bed for a few seconds then burst into laughter.
I begin to laugh too, at what I have just said - me whipping John's ass.
"Oh, I'd love to see you whip John Doggett's ass, Dr. Scully," she says through her giggles.
I continue to giggle myself from my groggy state and uncharacteristic comment. Oh my. But I care about that man too much to have him driving around the streets tonight in his intoxicated state. And I know that Monica does, too. He's too intoxicated. And she would have done the very same thing if he were to try and leave with his keys. I just beat her to it. Now, I just hope I can remember where I put them come tomorrow morning. Mmm. Oh well. I am too tired tonight to even think about it.
She tucks me in, then leans down and kisses me on the forehead again, telling me she loves me, then leaves the room closing the door behind her.
"Mmm," I sigh then snuggle back into her pillow, roll to my side, and then to my stomach a little more comfortably. I like to sleep on my stomach, clutching her pillow, and on her side of the bed, with one knee bent up and one leg stretched out. It's just a habit I guess. But any time that she is not with me, and in my bed, I sleep on her side, one knee up, and one leg down, on my stomach and clutching her pillow. It's just a habit. I have done that since practically the first day we met. She doesn't seem to mind. Actually, I think she likes finding me in this position, clutching her pillow and all snuggled in, and on her side of the bed. "Mmm." I doze off again.
I feel the bed move then the covers rise. I feel my lover slide in next to me. Hum. She must have come in a few minutes ago, and changed into her pajama bottoms and sleep-shirt without turning any of the lights on. I guess she didn't want to take a chance on waking me.
Mmm. I feel the warmth of her body begin to surround me as she snuggles in, then wraps an arm around my torso, tucking a thigh up between my legs.
Oh God. I can feel her heat as her mound presses in against my butt and thigh.
Oh my God. And now she's straddling the back of my thigh and tucking her knee in just behind mine. Ohhh. And I can feel her breasts pressing in against my shoulder-blades. God. She feels so good. So damn good. Mmm. I can feel her entire body beginning to spoon in and rest slightly on top of me. Oh God. She feels so good. So damn good. "Hum," I lightly sigh then clutch her pillow a little more snuggly.
She moans contentedly, too, then somehow snuggles in even more intimately against me. How, I don't know. We are practically of one body now. And I've got her pillow tucked in against me.
"Mmm," I moan again as I feel her nose and cheek begin to nuzzle my neck. Oh. She kisses me so softly I can hardly feel it. But I know she has. She has kissed me. "Mmm," I moan again into the gentle sensations. Wow. I can't help it. It feels so good.
"Um baby, goodnight," she whispers softly, trying not to awaken me then readjusts her body getting a little more comfortable.
"Night, honey," I respond hazily.
I then feel her hand snake in underneath my top, and more comfortably around my torso, then gently cup the lower portion of my breast.
Oh God. That feels good. So good. She has not had her hands on my breasts in weeks. More like months. They have been too sore. My choice of breastfeeding has really put a kink into our sex-life. And my nipples? My gosh. My poor baby, having to wait so long, and through the long, frustrating weeks, waiting patiently, until she can touch, suck and play with my breasts again when we make love. Gosh. I'm not sure how many other lovers would have been so patient and understanding either. And I know that it has been hard on her. She's loves to kiss, suck and play with my breasts while we make love. Just like I do. I love to kiss, suck and play with hers, too.
Mmm. God. She just gently cupped my breast again. Mmm. God. It feels so good. So damn good.
Gosh. Soon, very soon, things will be different. Because I started weaning William last month. So soon, very soon, she will be able to do anything she wants to do with my breasts and nipples again. The soreness should be completely gone by next month.
Mmm. God. Although, the soreness seems to be gone already now. "Mmm." She gently cups my breast again. Mmm. Oh wow. I roll over towards her somewhat. God, that feels so good. So damn good, having her hand on my breast again. "Mmm," I moan again into the sensations. God. She's gently gliding her thumb across my nipple. And I don't think she even realizes it, what she's doing. She's just gently touching me as she drifts off to sleep. Oh God. That feels so good.
I roll over a little more and roll my shoulder more aggressively into her as I begin to feel my breathing increase. Oh my God. I'm getting aroused. For Crissakes. I'm getting aroused. I could almost chuckle at the situation. My God. My pulse rate is rising. Shit. Oh God. She has switched breasts on me. Oh my God, that feels so good. So damn good. Too good. "Mmm," I moan again then open my eyes. She's awake, too, watching me, with a hunger in her eyes that I have not seen in weeks. Her breathing is beginning to increase, too, just like mine. Oh my God. Are we crazy? It's 1:00 in the morning. I just glanced at the clock. And we both have to be up by 5:30, 6:00 at the latest.
She looks at the clock herself. "G'night, baby, love you," she whispers understanding the situation then lowers her hand back down from my breast.
Oh no. God, no. Don't do that. I quickly grasp that same hand then move it back up to where I want it, placing it right squarely back where it was, on top of my breast. I hear a slight gasp from her mouth as I begin to cup and squeeze my own breast through her hand.
"Mm," she gasps again then cocks an eyebrow. I know she does. She always does. It's a little too dark to see. But I know she has. She always cocks an eyebrow when I suddenly get aroused out of the blue.
"Touch me," I say.
"What?" She's surprised.
"Touch me," I say again as I move my leg underneath her then straddle her thigh and nudge her other hand.
She watches me for a few seconds, presumably not quite sure what to do. It's late, and I need my sleep. Gosh. With both need our sleep. And I've been telling her for weeks to not touch my breasts. They're too sore. And yet tonight, my God. Wow. She's looking at me so tenderly. Oh gosh. She's so beautiful. She's now rising up, moving her hands up and beginning to oblige me, gently massaging my breasts with both her hands.
"Oh God, yes," I gasp. Oh God, yes. It's been so long. Too long.
"Feel okay? No pain?" she whispers as her breathing begins to grow more ragged from her own arousal.
"Umhum. No pain. Feels wonderful," I reassure her then reach up and cup her face pulling her into me, kissing her, sucking on her lips, then sucking her tongue deep inside my mouth.
Oh God. I feel her shiver. I know that she's feeling everything that I am. It's like coming home again, feeling her hands and fingertips on my breasts again. It's been too long. And, oh God. She's being so gentle. It feels so good. God! She's driving me wild! I kiss her more passionately, running my hands through her hair and pulling her in even closer to me with my hands and arms. God! I'm sucking on her tongue again, and God! I want to suck her tongue deep inside of me. Oh God! I want to suck her whole body deep inside of me. God! I keep building the passion, sucking and tugging, then thrusting my tongue deep inside of her. God! I'm breathing so heavily now. Oh God. And she is, too! God! I thrust again, and again, and again, building the heat. Building, building, building the heat... Building the heat... Oh yes!
"Mmm." She suddenly breaks free from me panting with barely controlled arousal. Oh God. She's trembling. And I know that look. I've seen that look in her eyes a thousand times. She needs me. Oh God. She needs me so bad. God! She then pulls her hands out from underneath my top and begins to unbutton it. Oh God! Yes! I can hardly control myself the waiting has been so long. Oh God. Yes! I feel her warm hands and mouth on my breasts again. Oh. God. Yes!
"Ohhh," I moan a little too loudly. Shit. "John's on the couch?" I pant.
"Oh." Shit. That could be a problem. "Mmm." I'm a little too loud again.
"Shhh," she whispers then gently circles my nipple with her tongue.
Oh God. Yes! How am I going to keep quiet? "Ohh," I gasp again. Shit. Wouldn't you know? The first time we make love, with my breasts being included as part of the package again, and Monica's partner, John Doggett, is asleep on my couch. Shit! At least I hope he is asleep on my couch. God!
"Door's closed, right?" I pant again.
"Mmm, God, Moni."
"What, baby?" she teases me as she circles and licks all around my areolas, being so very careful and gentle, and yet I can feel the excitement burning inside of her, too. I know she wants me. I know what she wants, what she needs. She needs to fill her mouth and hands with my breasts, and suck Ė hard Ė on my nipples. But she won't. I know she won't, even though I want her to. Oh God, how I want her to. But she won't. I know she won't. She won't take that chance, that it might be a little too early to try that right now. It might hurt me, or cause my nipples and breasts to become sore again. But, oh God! How I want her to. And yet, she'll remain so gentle and careful, watching my eyes and monitoring my movements for any signs of discomfort. Oh God. What a wonderful lover I have.
"Mmm, baby," I whimper again. I need her to go lower. God. I need her to go lower. "Mmm, baby, touch me," I whimper again squirming underneath her.
She understands. And a little lower she goes.
"Shhh," she whispers as her lips and tongue trail kisses down my stomach and abdomen.
Oh God. Right. We need to keep quiet. I need to keep quiet. Shit! Holy shit! "Mmm," I moan again then suck in another deep breath. Oh God. She's gone a little lower. Oh God, my God, my God, I'm gonna asphyxiate holding my breath so long!
She then rises up and begins to vibrate my clit with her fingertips.
"Oh Christ," I pant.
"Shhh," she whispers again then leans in and kisses me hugging and massaging my clit a little faster.
"Mm," I whimper again then suck in another quick breath. My God! I think I'm gonna explode! Trying to keep quiet. Shit! Damn! Oh! "Mm," I whimper again then quickly suck in another deep breath and hold it. Shit, shit, shit! I feel my body beginning to tingle with that slow, familiar burn.
She's watching me, panting and trembling herself, as she leans in and quickly kisses me on the cheek. "Mmm, can you do it? Keep quiet?" she barely whispers into my ear never slowing her hand.
God! Oh God! Yes! Yes! Yes! I nod. Yes! My heart is about to pound outside of my chest. We're too far down this road to stop now! Shit! I suck in another deep breath. I watch her, staring into her eyes, as she keeps the pressure steady, massaging me a little faster, and a little faster. Oh God! My God, my God, my God! I'm gonna lose it! I'm going to completely lose control and, oh my God! "Mm," I barely whimper again as I suck in another quick, deep breath.
She grins. "Shhh," she reminds me then kisses me again on the cheek.
Oh! Jeezus! My whole body is trembling, trying to find another way to express itself, as I desperately try to remain quiet, struggling with every little quiver of my breath. Jeezus! I canít believe that John Doggett is on my couch when I need to scream out my release. Oh! Christ! I tremble and quiver, staring into my lover's eyes, as my heart pounds so hard inside my chest I can actually hear the rhythm, beating harder and faster inside my head. My God! Even my heart is trying to accommodate my need to keep quiet. Oh God! I'm gonna come! I'm gonna come! I'm gonnaÖ I'm coming! I'm coming! I'm! Oh! Jeezus! "Ohh!" I allow one groan to escape. "Mmm!" Oops. And there's another. I quickly suck in another deep breath. I keep staring into her eyes. She's shivering, too, as I feel that deep burning sensation bursting through my insides. "Oh... oh... oh..." I barely whimper staring into her eyes. Or is it Monica I hear, barely whimpering, too, as her hips begin to buck into mine? God. I donít know. Maybe she is. Maybe we both are. Maybe she's coming, too. Shit. I don't know. But I know that I'm still coming, as my body jerks up, then stops, then jerks up a little more then stops then rocks up a little more. Ohhh. God.
She's slowing her hand and cupping my fire with her palm, just holding still, and holding on so tenderly. God. I love her. I love her. I love this woman. And, God. I can't believe I was able to keep that quiet. Ohhh. Whew. My heart is still pounding so fast I can feel my pulse rate beating against the pillow. Ohhh. Whew.
She smiles then sucks in a deep breath herself.
Wow. My God. I canít believe she just made love to me. And all because she barely cupped my breast as she drifted off to sleep. Holy crap! I then begin to giggle.
She then begins to giggle, too.
"Mmm, God, Agent Reyes. What did you do to me?"
"I don't know. Taught you a little football. Fed you a little pizza. Took care of your little son for a while. I donít know. What did I do?" she teases me nuzzling her nose in against my neck.
"Mmm. Wow. I don't know. But I think I like Monday Night Football."
"Mmm, yeah. But next time, maybe we need to hold down on the beer we allow our friend out there to drink."
"Oh, I don't know. He was out like a light. I think you could have screamed my name out to the heavens and he'd of never known the difference."
"Hah. Well, why didn't you tell me?" I huff.
Suddenly, we hear the bathroom door open and close.
I cock an eyebrow. I know it's not my son.
She looks at me then snorts into another fit of giggles.
For Crissakes. John Doggett might have just heard. For Crissakes.
~ THE END ~
Author's Notes: I did a little research to find some games where the Titans really did have to go into Overtime to win a game. I was amazed. There was a game that fit almost perfectly into my time line against the Tampa Bay Buccaneers back in October of 2001. And I remember that game very well now, being a Titans fan. It was on a Sunday afternoon, October 14, 2001, at 1:00 pm ET here at home in Tennessee Titans Territory. The score was 31-28 in OT. It wasn't a Monday Night Football game, but it comes very close to fitting into my time line. Kewl.
I hope you enjoyed Moni and Dana's night at home watching a little Monday Night Football. Dana seemed to get a very good education by the time the night was over. Check out the sequel Just a Little Tuesday Morning Lovin' written from Monica's POV the next day.
Dedication: This one is dedicated to all the football fans out there and all the men that get so frustrated when "we girls" sometimes don't know what the crap is going on in a football game. But then sometimes you run into a woman that knows more than any of you little weenies out there will ever know. I'm just teasing you. But believe me, I do know a few. Whew. What great coaches they would make. Maybe one day we'll see a few female coaches standing on the sidelines and directing their teams to a win, too. Would that not be awesome? We've come a long way, baby.
Bye for now. And if you liked this story please drop me a line and let me know about it. You can do that HERE. Thanks, MGR
Story Started: 10/08/2004
Finished: 10/18/2004 - Archived: ScullySlash on 10/20/2004
The characters of Monica Julieta Reyes, Dana Katherine Scully and all other Original X-Files characters included within this story belong to Chris Carter, the Fox Broadcasting Network & 1013 Productions and are being used here without their permission. Any previously unrecognized characters, plots or places are © 2004 to the author, MyGirlReyes. No portion of this story, in part or in full, may be reused, reproduced, archived, or otherwise published elsewhere without express written permission from the author. Readers may print/download a copy for their own private/personal use, but please keep all disclaimers and copyright symbols with the story at all times. Thank you.