Title: The Night Before Rating: PG-13 for a few suggestive comments. Category: Pre-XF, DRR, AU (for a strange timeline), V Spoilers: None Archive: Just talk to me first Disclaimer: I stole them. Reyes and Doggett belong to Chris and the gang, Sasha and the rest are mine. Feedback: I could live off the stuff! Amara13@hotmail.com or AlienShip2000@aol.com Summary: John's bachelor party where he first encounters Monica. I glanced at the door as a group of loud men stumbled into the pub. The way they were already half drunk and crowding around one guy who I couldn't yet see practically screamed out "bachelor party!" I turned to my friend and co-worker, Sasha, with an exasperated grin. "My table, huh?" She laughed, tossing her length of auburn curls. "Go get 'em!" I rolled my eyes, grabbed a pad of paper and sauntered over to the men. Several pairs of eyes roamed my body freely as I smiled widely and prayed for a good tip. "Hi, I'm Monica and I'll be your waitress tonight. What can I get you guys?" "A round of beers," one man spoke up. When I glanced at him, I was shocked by a wave of familiarity and longing. He was handsome, with piercing blue eyes and a laid-back look, which contrasted with the New York I heard in his voice. As I forced the smile back into place and air into my lungs, I thought I saw a hint of the same emotion in his eyes. "Alright, I'll be right back with those drinks," I said, walking away on shaking legs. As I calmed myself with the simple and mindless task of filling the mugs I heard "Hey, Mon, who's the rip snorting hottie?" I whipped around in a burst of laughter to see Sasha standing there with a devilish grin on her face. "Oh, c'mon Monica, don't play the shocked virgin card. I saw the look he gave you." "What, the 'how quickly can I get into her pants?' look?" I responded lightly, going back to the drinks. Sasha snorted, but her voice was serious. "No, more of a 'wow' look." "Get a grip Sash." I began loading the mugs onto a tray. "Guys only think that when they look at women like *you*." She rolled her eyes, but didn't answer. "Here." She reached over and flicked open an extra button on my already open white shirt. "Just leave that, for me. If anything it'll earn you a good tip." I hefted the tray, tossing a grin over my shoulder. I took a breath before approaching the table again. "Here you go." I had to lean over to distribute some of the drinks, and I saw many of the men eyeing me. "Can I get you anything else?" I asked, standing back up. I glanced at the man I had noticed before, my gaze catching on an open card sitting in front of him, with 'John,' scrawled hastily across the top. "So, John, are you excited about the big day?" My heart sank at the thought of this man being engaged, and a part of me clung to a hope that it was merely his birthday. But his face split into a smile that endeared him all the more to me, and he nodded. "Yeah, Barbara's great." The men around him groaned. "Please, don't get him started on Barbara!" exclaimed one of the men. He was cute, with longish sandy hair and hands to die for, but I only smiled slightly at him. "John is in desperate need of a final fling," another declared dramatically, "Know anyone?" a redhead threw in with a wink. I only smiled coyly. "I'm off at midnight…Let me know if you gentlemen need anything else." Sasha grinned as I headed back behind the bar. "Ten pairs of eyes were trained on your ass as you walked away. What'd you do, offer an orgy?" "Just guaranteed my tip," I laughed. She let out a mock gasp. "You *did* offer an orgy!" "Care to join us?" She smiled broadly as she pushed through the door. "Only if I get that rip snorting hottie!" I shook my head in amusement and planted my hands on the bar to face a bewildered looking man. "So, what'll it be?" **** "Hey," I said, rushing around behind the bar. "You guys need anything?" "No, we're good," John said with another heartbreaking grin. "Just came over to…" his voice trailed off, obviously unsure of how to explain. "Hold on a sec." I placed several shot glasses on the bar and collected my money. "Thank you sir," I said placing my tip in a pocket. I turned to Sasha who was working the other end of the bar. "I'm taking ten!" I called to her. Her eyes darted to John, then back to me. "Take twenty." I sent her an appreciative look, then wiped my hands on my apron as I faced him again. "Let's take a walk." Silently he consented by walking beside me as we headed towards the door. His buddies clustered their heads together to talk and failed at inconspicuously shooting John a thumbs up sign. The cool summer air danced across my skin as I habitually took in a deep breath of fresh air. And nearly choked on the pollution clouding the night. "You okay?" John asked, catching sight of my expression. "Fine. This is a far cry from the nights in Mexico, I can tell you that much." "You're from Mexico?" he asked somewhat disbelievingly. "Born in Texas, adopted by Mexican parents and raised there. I'm going into my sophomore year at Brown, and spending the summer here in New York. Where are you from?" "I lived in Geneva, New York, for the first ten years of my life, and then we moved here to the city and I never really left. I'm working in the NYPD now." "Ooh, a man in uniform," I teased. "No wonder Barbara wants to marry you." "What, you don't think my mind had anything to do with it?" "Well, maybe a little." He chuckled softly, and we walked down the streets for a minute or two in silence. "Did you feel it?" The question rolled off my tongue before my mind had decided to ask it. "Feel what?" Even at our respectable distance I could feel his body tense, which answered my question better than any words could. "When I first introduced myself. When our eyes met. I felt something. A comforting feeling almost, as though I'd known you for years. And desire. I could never resist a man in uniform," I added with a smirk, covering up the discomfort that followed my confession. He was silent for a moment. "You're somethin' else, ya know that? I mean, here you are, the night before my wedding, acting like we met in some past life." "Maybe we did." I spoke jokingly, but the idea didn't seem so far fetched to my mind. "Yeah, you're something else alright." We were quiet for another moment. "You never answered," I pointed out. "I dunno, maybe-it was like-how'd you put it?" He fumbled over the words. "A comfortable feeling." "Yeah, I guess it was like that. Sort of a recognition." "What do you think it means?" "Nothin'. It means I'm getting married tomorrow and I'm not about to sleep with a woman just 'cause I feel like I knew her in some past life or some nonsense." His voice was tinted with the ragged edge of irritation. "John." I stopped walking and took his hand, trying to ignore the warmth of it. "I'm not trying to have sex with you. I only wanted to acknowledge what I felt and see if it was mutual. That's enough for me." And amazingly enough, it was. He looked into my eyes, and I could see confusion, relief and maybe a little regret mingling in his own. I could feel a sad pleasure reflecting in my face, and with a sorrowful smile, I stretched up on my toes to brush my lips against his. The contact was brief, and the flash of longing painful. "Goodbye John." I dropped his hand. "Good luck tomorrow." I turned to walk away slowly. I could sense him fidgeting and heard his sigh. "Damnit." I kept walking, but he caught up with me in a few strides. "Monica." he spoke my name for the first and probably last time. His hands gripped my shoulders and before giving me time to think, his mouth was crushing mine. Waves of shock and then a desperate want stole over me. My hands came to the back of his neck, brushing the hair growing there. The pressure of his lips lessened as the embrace became gentle, the fragility of the moment reflected in the kiss. As we pulled apart my hands cupped his face, and his own dropped to his sides. "Barbara is a very lucky woman John." He opened his mouth to say something, but I pressed a finger to his lips. "Go back to your friends. Tell them what happened, they'll be happy for you. Have fun." "What about you?" His voice was low, and twisted my stomach. "I'm just going to wait out my break. Get some air." I smiled at him reassuringly. "Go on." He walked away, looking back only once. And I stood on the city sidewalk, watching him leave me. -30- Author's Notes: Okay, I know that the timeline is wrong, but the best I could figure was that around the age John got married Monica was 15. So I fudged a little, also on where Doggett was raised because I have no idea. Please, let me know what you thought!