Welcome To The Harem
Indebted by Keleka
Summary: Monica realizes a debt she owes. Doggett/Reyes, Reyes/Follmer.
Distribution: Yes to Gossamer.
Spoiler Warning: Release
Content Statement: Doggett/Reyes/Follmer
Summary: Monica realizes a debt she owes.
Archive: No to Xemplary. Yes to others. Please tell me
where so I can visit.
Disclaimer: If I owned this cash cow, do you really think
I'd be living in Nebraska?
Feedback: It's welcome in my house!
Author's Note: Huge steaming piles of thanks to Fabulous
Monster for her usual All-Star beta job, and to the members
of the Beyond the Sea for helping me know when to quit.
The rest of my fanfic can be found at:
The pink message slip is taped to our office door when we return
from lunch. John reads it while I unlock the door.
"It's for you."
John shoves the note at me, does an about-face, and doubles back to
He looks at me as the elevator door closes, and I can read the hurt
in his blue eyes. John's eyes are the gateway to his soul.
Finally, I read the note:
'Brad Follmer wants to see you ASAP.'
I crumple the paper in my hand and toss it in the trashcan beside my
desk. There isn't much I can do but wait for John to return.
Brad Follmer is a touchy subject for us.
It was bad enough before Brad's trial. John knew about my 'youthful
indiscretion' with Brad when I was with the New York City field
office, and he tried not to let it bother him. But my testimony at
the trial threw it in his face and made it gruesomely public.
The State of Maryland charged Brad with first degree murder and
needed my testimony to help establish his connection to Nicholas
Regali and organized crime. Brad's lawyer tried to impeach my
credibility on cross-examination by convincing the jury I was 'a
woman scorned' and had fabricated my testimony to strike back at Brad
for ending our relationship.
John knew it wasn't true. But hearing Brad's attorney grill me on
the details of my relationship with Brad, and then having it rehashed
in the papers the next day was bad enough. Even worse was knowing
that it would be grist for the Bureau gossip mill. Our fragile,
newly-blossoming relationship had almost been destroyed in the
The trial ended two months ago and we've just started putting it
I stiffen in surprise and look up. I was so lost in my thoughts, I
hadn't heard the door open. "Hey," he says quietly. "Sorry about
that back there at the elevator." He smiles an apology and my heart
melts. I hold out my hand to him. He crosses the room and takes my
hand, squeezing it gently.
"What do you think he wants?" I ask.
"I don't care what he wants," he barks. There is no vestige of
sympathy in the harshness of his voice. He shakes his head in
frustration. "Sorry," he says again. He moves closer to me and rubs
his hand against my arm. His voice softens. "I only care what you
How could anyone not love this man?
"Maybe I should go see him."
I sigh. This is no time for the 'green-eyed monster.'
"I owe him that much, John."
"You don't owe him nuthin'," he says with a snarl. He yanks his
hand from mine and stalks across the room to his desk. He picks up a
file and pretends to study its contents.
John's reaction troubles me deeply. For months, I have had a sense
that there is more to his anger than just my past relationship with
Brad. I decide to broach the subject. "If Brad hadn't killed
Regali, John, what would have happened that night outside Mooney's
The look he gives me is grim. A muscle flicks angrily at his jaw and
he swallows hard.
"You told me you drew your weapon before you heard the shot," I
He nods, slowly.
"Before Brad shot Regali."
His eyes are shards of blue ice. "I don't think you wanna go there,
Monica," he cautions hoarsely.
But I'm too far down this path to heed his warning. I take a deep
"You would have killed Regali if Brad hadn't."
There. I said it. It hangs heavy in the air, like the last humidity
John's face turns an angry shade of red.
He slams his palm on the desk. "Goddamn it, Moni, I told you...."
He stands up abruptly and his chair topples to the floor behind him.
He is a picture of anguish. "You don't know... you don't
"...what it's been like to live with the knowledge that you almost
murdered a man," I finish quietly.
He sags against the desk and closes his eyes. I move closer and
rest my hand gently on his shoulder.
"Yeah," he finally says, though his voice is so low I can barely
hear him. When he looks at me at last, his eyes are glistening. "I
was gonna kill the bastard." He rubs his eyes furiously. "And that
sonovabitch, Follmer, took it all away from me!"
"I don't understand, John." I look at the rage on his face and
realization dawns. I take a step back in shock. "Are you saying--"
"I hate Follmer because he did what I should have...what I
wanted...." He clenches his fists until his knuckles turn white.
"...what I still want to do!"
I am at a loss for words. "John...."
He glances sideways at me. "Some FBI agent, huh?" He sighs,
I try to process our conversation. "So if Brad hadn't killed him,
it would be you in prison, wouldn't it?"
John blinks several times and then looks away again. "Yeah, I guess
"You'd be sitting in a cell right now. You wouldn't be here with me."
He shrugs in response.
"Then I do owe Brad something." I see the befuddlement on John's
face. I take him in my arms and press my lips against his ear.
"I owe him everything."
Author's Note: My beta thinks I should continue this with a trip to the
prison. As much as I'd like to see Brad Follmer in an orange jump suit,
I'm not sure there's any there there, so to speak. If you think it
should be continued, please let me know.