Title: Good Vibrations 

by agent myers 

Rating: R for sex toys 

Keywords: DRR, Humor 

Summary: John learns one of Monica's dirty little secrets...and he likes it. 

Spoilers: Just basic Season 8 & 9, no real big ones 

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Duh. 

Feedback: I live for it. tred2@yahoo.com 

Archive: Just ask me. All individuals and archives that I have previously given permission to are 
welcome to it. 

Author's Notes: At the end. 

Recommended listening: "I Know Where I'm Goin'" by the Judds, "(A Change) Will Do You Good" by 
Sheryl Crow, "Turn Off The Light" by Nelly Furtado

 

~~~

Good Vibrations

by agent myers

~~~

 

 

When the plane touched down on the ground, John Doggett breathed a sigh of relief. He hated 
flying, and ever since the events of September 11, he hated it even more. He turned to his partner, 
Monica, who was reading a magazine. She was calm and composed, unlike her partner, and she had barely 
noticed that they were landing.

"Hey...you're supposed to stow that." John said, gesturing to the magazine she held. He peeled his 
hands off of the armrests.

Monica shrugged and put down the issue of Oprah that she had found in her seat. "We're here 
already?"

"Already? That was a two-and-a-half hour flight. Turbulence all the damn way." John said, 
unbuckling his seatbelt. Monica pulled her carry-on bag from under the seat in front of her.

"Turbulence? I don't remember any turbulence..."

John snorted. "Guess you were too wrapped up in your monthly dose of Oprah. Why is it that her 
face is on the cover of every single issue?"

Monica laughed slid the magazine into the seat pocket in front of her. "Cause it's *her* magazine, 
I guess. What's up your ass?"

"I hate flying."

"I noticed. Don't you know that you have a better chance in the air than you do in a car?"

John leaned in. "Yeah, smarty-pants, but you got a better chance of surviving a car crash than you 
do a plane crash. Now put that in your pipe and smoke it."

Monica shook her head and chuckled. When the plane came to a stop, they grabbed their stuff and 
headed for the door. John sighed, knowing that their day was not yet over. This flight was only a 
connection...they still had one more plane trip to go. It was only a forty-five minute trip to 
Baltimore, and then the drive home. Whoever had designed their itinerary would be receiving a swift 
kick in the ass upon his return, John vowed.

They made their way through the busy airport, dodging families with screaming kids, business men 
and some guy named Harold who drove around a golf cart to escort old ladies to their planes. Their 
connecting flight left in twenty minutes, and was already boarding. They still had to make it 
through security, which was pretty tight since the terrorist attacks.

Monica went through the metal detector, then John. John grabbed his bag and started for the gate. 
Monica was about to take her bag, when a large black woman stopped her.

"Excuse me, Miss...we'd like to check the contents of your bag, if you don't mind."

Monica looked uneasy. "Well...I'm a little late for my flight."

"It'll only take a moment, Ma'am. Would you stand here while we inspect your luggage?"

Monica looked around her. John waited for her at the gate. She turned around to the airline 
security people, who were already going through her stuff. She prayed that they wouldn't open the top 
pocket in the lid of her suitcase.

No such luck. Monica began to panic, and was about to ask them to stop. But it was too late.

The large black woman, who's nametag identified her as 'Cindy', jumped backwards.

"Good God...there's something in there. It started buzzing when I put my hand in the pocket!"

Monica stepped forward. "Please...can I just take my luggage and go?" she pulled out her FBI 
identification and showed them. "I'm an FBI agent."

Cindy glared at her. "I don't care who or what you are, honey...now you just better back it on 
up."

Monica fumed, but forced herself to keep calm. If she made a huge deal about security searching 
her luggage, she'd only draw more attention. About that time, John walked up beside her. That was 
when she really started to panic. Before she could convince him to go and get on the plane, Cindy 
was digging her hands into the suitcase.

And then she pulled it out.

"What the hell is this?" Cindy said to her colleague.

It was a small square box with a tiny turn-dial and a long wire that attached to a small egg-like 
object. Cindy held it up and looked at it.

Cindy's colleague, a feminine white boy by the name of Ralph, said: "Oh my God...it's some kind of 
dildo..."

Monica walked up and snatched the device from Cindy's hand. She was mortified beyond belief, but 
also very angry. "Actually, it's a vibrator. Dildos don't have batteries...OKAY?" She shouted, 
stuffed the thing in her bag, and then grabbed her suitcase from the inspectors. When she turned 
around to head for the gate, John stood watching her.

His lips were turned up in the tiniest smile that he tried to cover with his hand. She thought she 
couldn't possibly be more embarrassed, but she was wrong. Monica glared and trudged past him into 
the gate.

Monica didn't say a word to John. She refused to even look at him. When they had taken their 
seats, she put her nose into a magazine, one of those Skymall catalogues, and fumed in silence.

He sat silently next to her, with a tiny smile that could any moment lead to a roar of laughter.

He couldn't resist.

"You know, you can hardly blame 'em for being thorough after September 11. Just tryin' to stop the 
next dildo-vibrator terrorist attack." John said, and then burst into laughter at his own 
ridiculous joke. Monica didn't laugh, nor did she look up from her magazine.

"Shut up."

John poked her in the side. "Aw, come on, Monica...you got to admit it was pretty damn funny."

Monica slammed her magazine down on the tray-table. "No, John...I don't. I have a right to my 
privacy and they violated my right and embarrassed me in front of God only knows how many people. I 
should lodge a complaint with this airline!"

John nodded and appeared serious. "Yeah, you should march right up to the customer service desk 
and tell those bastards to keep their hands off your dildo!" John began to chuckle so hard that his 
face turned red. Monica punched him in the arm.

"Thanks for being on my side...jerk." Monica spat, and stuck her nose back in her Skymall 
catalogue.

"I'm on your side, Monica...and don't feel bad. You'll probably never see those people again."

"And you'll probably never stop teasing me." Monica said.

John cocked his head to the side and pressed his lips together. "I think it will be a long, long 
time before you live this down."

Monica glared at him and clenched her jaw.

John smiled. "You know I'm kidding you. Look, I'll stop teasing if you just admit that it was damn 
funny." John said. When she didn't respond, he nudged her. Then he nudged her again and again 
until an uncontrollable smile spread across her lips.

"There...I knew it." John said.

"Okay...so if it had been someone else, I would be rolling. But unfortunately, it wasn't."

They sat in silence for a few moments, and Monica considered the matter dropped. She was looking 
at pictures of souvenir coffee mugs while the plane continued to board. Next to her, John fidgeted 
until he turned to her and spoke in quiet tones:

"So, can I just ask you one more question about your...thing?"

"What." Monica said flatly.

"What do *you* need one of those things for anyway? You're a pretty girl...smart too. And you make 
good money."

Monica chuckled. "John, everybody has...*needs*...but I'm not going to go out and get laid every 
time I get the...um...urge. I'm not like that." she said, blushing a little.

John nodded. "Good to know. And I guess you're right."

Monica nodded, and they sat quietly. The flight attendants made their rounds, and took their 
seats. The plane rolled out to the runway, and in a few minutes, they were in the air.

"So...is it better?"

"What?"

"Is it better than the real thing?"

Monica sighed loudly and put the magazine down, having reduced herself to the idea that John was 
really not going to let this one go.

"No, it's not better. Well, I guess sometimes...it is...sort of. I don't know. It's like comparing 
apples to oranges."

"How do you mean?" John asked, smiling.

Monica shrugged. "There's no commitment...there's no danger. There's no emotion associated with it 
whatsoever. There's no one to think about but myself. Plus, it's available any time I want it."

John nodded. His goofy smile had disappeared.

"So...you're not interested in commitment or emotion?"

Monica shook her head. "Well, no...that's not what I mean. I just mean that it's a safe and easy 
fix. I'm not opposed to an emotional relationship, but until that time comes I'd just rather play 
it safe...know what I mean?"

John thought for a moment, and then nodded. His smile had returned, but he was looking at her 
differently.

"What?" Monica asked him.

John grinned. "Nothing...just that I'm kind of excited right now."

Monica snorted. "Oh, God." John laughed at her reaction.

"I mean it...it's a big turn on for a woman to be so take-charge when it comes to her own 
sexuality."

Monica blushed. She knew this was going way beyond their usual flirtatious remarks that they 
frequently made to each other. She had to admit to herself that *she* was kind of excited. Here they 
were talking about such a deeply personal thing, and she was being so open. It felt good to share it 
with someone she considered a friend...or maybe a little more than a friend. John leaned closer to 
her.

"So...what do you think about when you're...you know...?"

Monica inhaled sharply. Her face turned even redder than before. "John, I..."

"Do you think about me?" He asked, looking her straight in the eye. She looked up at him, so 
shocked by his question that she nearly choked on her own breath. They stared at each other for a long 
moment. Monica was convinced that John would break into hysterical laughter at any moment, but he 
didn't.

"Maybe."

He smiled slightly. Just then, the flight attendants' voice came across the speaker, informing the 
passengers that they could now move about the cabin.

Monica smiled and turned away from John, feeling that they were treading on dangerous ground. She 
had just told John her deepest fantasy, and she was unsure if it was a wise move. Yes, she would 
give anything to be intimate with him, but she had never really planned on telling him that. She 
had said too much, and she would probably regret it later. She looked back up at John, who was still 
staring at her.

"Cause, you know...I've thought about you, too, Monica." he said. Monica looked at him seriously. 
She again expected him to break into laughter at any moment. What a hurtful joke that would be, 
she thought. But he didn't laugh.

"You're serious?" She asked.

He nodded. "I think about you all the time. I think about what it would be like...you and me 
together."

She felt a tinge of disappointment. "You mean sleeping together."

John shrugged his shoulders. "I won't say it hasn't crossed my mind, oh, about a million times. 
But I wasn't talking about sex. I was talking about...you know...love."

Monica's heart swelled. Was this really happening? Was she hearing him right? She gazed at him, 
searching his eyes for some sign that this was some horrible prank.

"Are you joking with me, John? Because if you are, it's not very funny."

He looked down for the first time. "It's no joke, Monica. I can't believe I'm telling you on an 
airplane - certainly not the way I envisioned it - but it's all true...I swear. I've felt this way 
for a while. I just couldn't say it."

Without looking down, John reached out and took Monica's hand and squeezed it. She couldn't say 
anything...she just stared at him in disbelief until he chuckled slightly.

"Come on, Monica. Don't leave me hangin' out here like this. Tell me if you feel the same way."

A great big ball of emotion gathered in her throat, obstructing whatever words she might say to 
him. She could hardly stop the tears from forming in her eyes. She leaned forward, towards John, and 
kissed him fully and rightly on his lips.

When they pulled away from each other, John was smiling at her. Monica's eyes were bright with 
unshed tears. She couldn't believe what had come of such a ridiculous situation at the airport. She 
smiled back at him, and felt a twinge of excitement, for all the things to come.

A week later, Monica threw out her vibrator.

 

~end

 

 

Author's Notes:  The idea for this story came out of nowhere! Well, that's not entirely true. I 
was watching "Fight Club" and laughed my ass off in that scene where Edward Norton loses his luggage 
because the airline people believe that there's a bomb (or dildo) in his suitcase. And, since I 
associate EVERYTHING with the X-Files, this story came to mind. And I can never, ever EVER write a 
straight humor story. There's always gotta be romance, but I've never had any complaints about it 
before.

I did consider revising the last scene so that Monica and John slip off to the bathroom...but is 
that even realistic? I've been in those bathrooms and a person can hard sit down on the toilet 
without banging their head on the door, let alone do the wild thing. And I also believed that it's 
just a tad out of character, as well as a little hokey. Anyway, hoped you liked it. Feedback is 
appreciated at tred2@yahoo.com