Title:  Beyond Existence
Author: scifinerdgrl
Rating: NC-17
Classification: SR
Spoilers: Existence, Nothing Important Happened Today
Keywords: Doggett/Reyes Romance, Post-Ep (Existence)
Summary: What were Agents Doggett and Reyes doing while Mulder 
and Scully were having their famous kiss?

Agent Doggett opened the front door to his house.  On the porch, 
a tired but smiling Monica Reyes stood, dangling car keyes in 
front of his face.  The porchlight silhouetted her form, but the 
light from the house shone on her eyes, making them sparkle like 
melting chocolate candies.  Doggett stood in the doorway, his 
powerful arms thrust outward to the door jamb, as if to hold
the doorway open.  "Thanks, Monica" he said sincerely.  "Want to 
come in?"  Before waiting for an answer, he pushed open the 
screen door, and she had to move out of its way.

"Well, just a minute while I wait for my cab."  She put the keys 
in his hand and stepped over the threshhold as he held the door 
open for her.  

She looked around the living room appraisingly.  "Nice place," 
she said.

He closed both doors and walked to where she stood.  "Thanks.  I 
try."  He didn't want to tell her how much of his decor had been 
his wife's doing, so he quickly changed the subject.  "Have a 
seat.  Want some coffee?"

She nodded.  "Thanks.  It was a long drive."  He walked to the 
kitchen and she sat down in the middle of the sofa.  Her hands 
absently drifted back and forth along the nubbly fabric, 
enjoying the texture of it.  She felt nervous, anxious, to be in 
the private domain of this private man.  She leaned back against 
the back of the sofa and tried to relax.  She straightened her 
legs as much as she could, slipping her feet under the coffee 
table.  She sighed and looked at the ceiling, its wide wooden 
beams giving her a sense of security and calm.  They reminded 
her of him: strong, constant, capable of supporting almost 
anything...

He walked toward her with two coffee mugs, interrupting her 
thoughts with his cheerful gait.  He set one mug on the coffee 
table across from her and smiled graciously.  "I'm sorry, I 
forgot to ask whether you wanted cream or sugar," he said 
solicitously.

She leaned forward and looked up at him with tired but grateful 
eyes.  "Black is fine.  Normally I like cream, but tonight I'm 
just bushed." 

"I hope you like it.  It's all I have right now," Doggett said 
nervously.  She picked up the mug with both hands and blew 
gently across the top.  Doggett could see the steam being pushed 
aside by her warm breath, and he couldn't help smiling as she 
took her first sip.  "Hmmmm" she hummed.  "Vanilla." She took 
another sip and looked up at him from under her eyebrows.  He 
sat down at one end of the sofa and put his mug on the coffee 
table.

She felt her ears grow warm as his eyes studied her attentions 
to her coffee.  She set the mug down and said, "I filled the 
tank, checked the oil, inflated the tires, and washed it."

"Wha " he started, then remembered.  "My car," he nodded, more 
to himself than to her.  "I knew I could trust you with it."

She smiled back at him.  "You were trusting me with a lot more 
than your car."

"There's nobody else I could have trusted.  I knew you would 
protect Scully and her baby," he said.

She blushed then looked down at her hands, which had landed in 
her lap somehow.  "I don't know..." she mumbled.  "It was touch 
and go."  She looked up to see his eyes looking questioningly 
into hers.  "Really.  I wasn't sure we were going to make it."

He put a hand on her shoulder.  "I never had any doubt."

She smiled and blushed again.  She put a hand on his and said, 
"I felt honored.  I'm glad things worked out."  She took her 
hand off his and bent forward, reaching for her mug, and he 
withdrew his hand.  She became engrossed in her coffee, hoping 
he would change the subject.  He didn't.

"I knew I could count on you, and you didn't even hesitate when 
I asked for your help," he said, his voice penetrating the 
silence she'd tried to build around her coffee mug.

She looked into his light blue eyes and felt she could fall into 
them and drown.  She cleared her throat and said, "I'd do 
anything for you, John.  You know that."

He nodded, his eyebrows rising slightly.  "I know.  And I'd do 
the same for you.  I hope you know that, too."

She stared at him blankly.  She hadn't needed his help, and she 
hadn't thought of this possibility.  She considered what he said 
for a moment then said softly, "I know."

Her eyes were glistening in the soft light, and Doggett felt 
conflicted.  "Monica," he started.  She looked at him 
expectantly and he suddenly felt very nervous. He continued, "If 
I can arrange it... I mean, I can't make any guarantees... but I 
think..."

"John," she interrupted, placing her hand lightly on his knee.  
"What is it?"

He closed his eyes tightly and took a deep breath.  She pulled 
her hand back, afraid she'd made him uncomfortable.  He opened 
his eyes again, and exhaled.  "Monica, now that Scully will be 
on maternity leave, I could use a new partner on the X-Files.  
If I can arrange it..."

Reyes nearly leapt in place.  "Yes!" she interrupted.  "I'd love 
to work on the X-Files."  She smiled as she saw the relief in 
his face.  "With you" she added.

Suddenly a car horn honked outside.  "That's my cab," she said.  
He could see that she wasn't ready to leave.  "I'll take care of 
it," he said, and he walked toward the door.  "I can give you a 
ride home."

*****

He gave the cab driver a generous tip, then returned to the 
living room.  When he returned, Monica was standing by the 
fireplace, looking at the family pictures on the mantel.  John 
approached and stood next to her.  She seemed startled and said 
"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't be nosing around like this."

"You're an investigator," he said with amusement.  "I'd be 
surprised if you didn't."  He picked up the pictures one by one 
and told her who each of the people was.  He described each 
relative with affection, telling her each one's oddest 
characteristic: an colorblind aunt who made funny-looking 
quilts, a teenaged girl with several piercings who played the 
oboe, a cousin who played fantasy football on his computer...  
Finally they came to the picture Monica had seen first, the one 
she already knew:  Luke.

Doggett picked up the picture and held it gently, as if it were 
alive.  "And Luke," he started.  He swallowed and seemed not to 
know what to say next.  Monica put her hand on his arm.  "You 
don't have to..."

"I want to," he said.  "I wouldn't be doing his memory justice 
if I only remembered the bad times."

She pulled her hand away, ashamed of herself for underestimating 
him.  He continued, "This picture was taken at his first T-ball 
practice, when he was five."  He stroked the edge of the frame.  
"He was a natural."  He harumphed and continued, speaking into 
the picture, "The first time he hit the ball, it was a solid 
line drive... right into the coach's balls."  He laughed.  "The 
coach went down like a brick!" He turned to look at her again 
and said through his chuckles, "But you can bet the whole team 
wore their supporters after that!"  He sighed and put the 
picture back on the mantel.  "That was the funniest thing."  He 
looked at her again, and saw the tears welling up in her eyes.  
"We had a lot of good times like that," he assured her.  
"Really, no need to be sad."  He rubbed his hand along up and 
down her upper arm. "Really, it's okay."

"I know," she started.  "It's just that... my only memories of 
him are not from the good times.  It was hard on all of us, you 
know.  We all regretted what happened."

He pulled her to him and hugged her.  She buried her face in his 
neck and they both sighed.  She pulled away, but he kept his 
hands on her arms.  She said, "I'm glad you're able to remember 
the good times."  She slid her arms down, and grasped each of 
his hands.  "And I'm glad that you don't hold it against me that 
I was... there."

He squeezed her hands and said, "You were a great comfort, 
Monica.  When all the other cops just couldn't face me, you 
didn't turn away.  I've always appreciated that."

She smiled and squeezed his hands in return.  "It was hard.  
Really hard," she said.  "But I'm glad I was able to help."

Later, he would wonder why his brain didn't stop him, why there 
was no resistance from his years of religious, military and law 
enforcement training.  But he did it.  He kissed her.  It was 
brief, and he pulled back immediately.  When he looked into her 
eyes, they were glistening again, but with a different kind of 
gleam.  She was surprised, but he could tell she was pleased, 
and they each leaned forward into a deeper, more passionate 
kiss.

*****

She put her arms around his waist and pulled him even closer to 
him.  He responded by wrapping his strong arms around her 
shoulders, then moving one hand up and into her hair.  She 
pulled back, smiling at him, and he responded with a giddy grin.  
He pulled her head to his again and kissed her tenderly, gently 
prodding her with his tongue as both hands moved into her hair 
and played in its silky tresses.  She hummed into his mouth and 
moved her hands up and down his back, finally settling on his 
butt, each hand pulling it closer to her center.  She could feel 
his interest growing, and he ground into her, making sure she 
knew how he felt.

He pulled back, the palms of his hands cupping her jaw.  "Do you 
want to stay here tonight?"

She nodded and looked into his eyes.  "But I do need to sleep.  
I just drove almost twelve hours straight."

"I'm sorry, I " he said sympathetically.  "I wasn't thinking..."

She put a hand on his chest and grinned impishly.  "I'm verrrrry 
stiff from the drive.  Does the Doggett Inn have a masseuse?"

He smiled, relieved by her response.  "As a matter of fact, it 
does."  Her eyebrows rose as she smiled her response.  "He's 
upstairs."

"Let's go" she said.

He took her hand and led her to the bedroom.  He switched on the 
light, and she looked around.  Everything was neat and crisp, as 
he was.  He led her to the bed and she sat down, looking up at 
him with big round eyes.  He smiled down on her.  "Will this 
do?"

She gulped.  "This is fine," she said, then slid to the center 
of the bed.  She rolled over onto her belly, pulled a pillow out 
from under the covers, and put her hands under her head.  
"Hmmmmm.  This is very comfortable," she murmured.

He went to the door and said "I'll be right back."  As he came 
back from the bathroom, he said, in a Scandinavian accent, "Yawn 
Yore-gensen, your masseuse at your ser " He stopped when he saw 
her.  She was naked except for her black cotton panties, lying 
face-down in the middle of the bed, her head resting on her 
arms.

"I can't wait," was her muffled response.  "I'm so-o-o-o sore."

He went to the foot of the bed, then climbed on top of her, 
straddling her legs, then walking on his knees toward her 
center.  She sighed loudly.  He bent forward and started 
kneading her shoulders.  He was almost surprised to find that 
she was stiff, and gently squeezed and released her achy 
muscles.  She really did need a back-rub, he thought.  He 
suddenly felt guilty for sending
her on such a tiring errand.

"This feels so good," she said, her voice lower than he'd ever 
heard it.

He continued kneading her muscles, moving downward to her waist.  
He passed his hand over her black cotton underwear.  So sexy, so 
practical.  He never would have expected that. He'd imagined her 
naked, but had never thought about her panties.  He felt his own 
pants getting tighter, but he went back to massaging her lower 
back, and he could feel the muscles relax under his touch.

He asked, "Was that good? Want more?"  He listened for some sign 
of encouragement, but heard nothing.  He leaned forward, pulled 
her hair back from her face, and saw that she was asleep.

*****
NC-17 Version

He sighed and laid down next to her.  He wanted to scream.  
Instead, he lay silently, studying every detail of her face.  
He'd seen so many emotions in her face, but he'd never seen it 
so peaceful.  His breath became shallow as he tried not to do 
anything to disturb that peace.  She'd earned it, and he wanted 
her to enjoy it.  Within a few minutes he fell asleep, too.

A few hours later, Doggett was awakened by the feeling of a hand 
snaking over his ribcage.  At first he thought it was his wife, 
and he wondered what she was doing there, but as he regained 
consciousness he remembered the events of the previous night and 
he smiled.  He opened his eyes to see Reyes lying on her side, 
her head propped up on her hand, looking intently into his face.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," she whispered.

He brought his hand to her waist and moved it up and down 
gently.  "That's okay," he whispered back.  "You needed the 
rest.  I understand."

"But did you get what did you needed?" she asked.

He smiled and moved his hand upward to her breast.  He passed 
over it with a light touch and then took his hand away.  She got 
the message.  She moved her hand to his face and said, "Now, 
where were we before Yahn Yore-gensen interrupted?"

He slid closer to her and they kissed, a slow sensuous, somewhat 
groggy kiss.  He put his arm around her waist and brushed his 
fingers up and down her spine, so lightly that she felt 
electricity pass through her whole body.  She responded by 
pulling him even closer, and rubbing as much of his ass as she 
could reach.  He broke away from their kiss and rolled onto his 
back, and as he did this her hand slid over his hip and onto the 
bulge in his pants.  It took her breath away to feel his thick 
shaft so ready so soon.  She smiled and sighed.  "Hmmm?" he 
asked.  She answered with a definitive "Hmmmm."  She undressed 
him sensuously but quickly, and threw his clothes into a corner.  
She stood up and slowly pulled her black panties down over legs, 
and he thought the choreography of her movements was the most 
beautiful and erotic thing he'd ever seen.

She laid back down next to him, and stroked his chest.  "I 
really am sorry I fell asleep," she said softly.

He looked at her through half-lidded eyes.  "I watched you 
sleep.  You were beautiful," he answered.

She leaned over and kissed him, taking control with brief yet 
tender kisses punctuated by smiles, looks, and soft cooing.  He 
let her take control, and smiled as she moved her mouth to his 
neck, his chest, each of his nipples, then traced a line of 
kisses down the middle of his belly to the top of his pubic 
hair.  He shifted his body slightly, in anticipation, and rested 
his hand on the back of her head.  She put her nose into his 
pubic hairs and inhaled deeply.  The scent was so manly, very 
musky and a little sweaty.  She loved it.  She inhaled again and 
let her exhalation out slowly, directing it to the base of his 
cock.  He gasped, and his breathing became louder, huskier.  She 
nuzzled his pubic hairs, tracing a random pattern in them, until 
her mouth was at the base of his cock.  She put her hand on the 
other side of his it, then she thrust out her tongue, and licked 
the line where his cock joined his body.  John groaned and ran 
his fingers through her hair.  She smiled to herself as she felt 
his cock becoming even stiffer, and ran the side of her nose up 
the underside of his shaft.  When she got to the top, she gently 
kissed the crown, and it jumped under her mouth.  She licked the 
soft skin of the head as if it were an ice cream cone, moving 
upwards in strokes that lightened at the top.  Each time she 
arrived at the top, his cock moved, and she enjoyed the power 
she was having over it.  Finally, she started to hear 
frustration in his breathing, and she took his cock into her 
mouth.  She tightened her lips around the shaft and moved up and 
down slowly.  She put a hand under his balls and started to 
knead them.  His hips started to move in rhythm with her mouth, 
and she increased the friction of her lips as much as she could.  
When she felt his balls pull away from her hand, she took her 
mouth away.  He groaned but didn't complain.  He wanted to save 
the best for later too.

She straightened out next to him and kissed him again.  This 
time he was passionate, not groggy, as he held her face with 
both hands and turned to his side to rub his body against hers.  
She put a leg over his hip, and the tip of his penis brushed 
lightly against the moisture at the edge of her opening.  He 
rolled her onto her back, and raised himself up on one elbow, 
sliding the other hand over each of her breasts in a back-and-
forth motion.  She smiled at him, beaming and joyous.  He bent 
over and kissed her again.  As he kissed her, his hand settled 
on one breast, and he started toying with its nipple.  As it 
hardened, he moved his mouth to her ear, then behind her ear, 
down the side of her neck to her collarbone, then down her 
collarbone to the bottom of her neck.  She let out a sigh that 
verged on a moan, and he continued down until he was kissing her 
breastbone.  He shifted his whole body downward, and took her 
erect nipple into his mouth as his hand played with the other 
one.  She arched her back, raising her breasts to meet his 
ministrations.  She felt as if she might come just from this, 
and she could feel a puddle starting to form under her vagina.  
She rotated her hips as the swelling in her lower parts started 
to demand attention, and John noticed this.  He moved his free 
hand downward, and cupped her pubic mound briefly.  She exhaled 
loudly, and he knew it was time to move on.  He left her breasts 
and kissed his way downward.  Her whole body stiffened in 
anticipation, and when his mouth arrived at her dark curls, her 
legs opened as if extending an invitation.

He positioned himself between her legs, and dove right in.  With 
the thumb of each hand, he rubbed up and down over her outer 
lips, then teased her inner labia.  She groaned and started to 
move from side to side, her hand reaching for his hair.  He 
moved one hand up and around her pubic hairs, teasing them as 
she had teased his, then he started searching for her clitoris.  
As if being summoned, it hardened and found him, its nub 
thrusting upwards to meet his fingers.  She groaned as he 
started to rub it from sided to side.  He put his tongue 
directly into her vagina, and her legs opened even wider in 
response.  His tongue continued  probing her cunt, moving it in 
and out like a tiny cock.  She started to rock from side to 
side, then bucked up and down.  She was becoming more vocal with 
every stroke, inside and out, and he suspected she was on the 
edge.  He pulled out his tongue and got up on all fours, 
hovering over her and smiling a silly, wet-faced smile.  She 
looked up at his face, wet with her juices, his smile and bright 
eyes inviting her to invite him.  "Yes," she whispered hoarsely.  
"I want you inside me!"

He positioned himself over her and she raised her hips to meet 
him.  She opened herself with her fingers, as he used his hand 
to guide himself into her.  As their hands met, they 
interlocked, and he raised them up over her head.  Their other 
hands found each other, and raised themselves to the same level.  
He lowered himself onto her, raising himself up onto his elbows, 
his hands still
gripping hers.  His cock was now fully inside her, and he rested 
briefly, looking with shining eyes into hers.  "God, you're 
beautiful," he growled softly.  She just grinned and sighed.  He 
kissed her, and she could feel his fullness getting still fuller 
as it pushed against her must sensitive places.  He started to 
rock up and down against her, his chest rubbing lightly against 
her erect nipples.  She tightened around his cock and he groaned 
softly, quickening his pace.  She started to buck in response to 
his rocking, and she couldn't help moaning in counterpoint to 
his grunts.  She wrapped her legs around his thighs, and the 
slight change of angle sent him into an even more sensitive 
zone.  She gasped, and his grunts grew louder and more strained.  
She could feel the gentle slap of his balls against her ass, and 
she felt herself going over the edge.  As he felt her orgasm 
starting, he slowed his pace just slightly, causing his own 
orgasm to begin.  She let out a series of loud gasps, each one 
squeezing more jism out of his member, and she finally kicked 
her legs outward in a final series of spasms.  He groaned a 
loud, low growl into her ear, and filled her with the final 
burst of his manhood.

He collapsed on top of her, then after their breathing slowed, 
he rolled off of her.  She felt warm all over and looked into 
his face.  He was gazing at her, completely satisfied and as 
happy as she'd ever seen him.  He reached over and stroked her 
face.  It was flushed and glowing, and he couldn't take his eyes 
off of her. 

"That was wonderful, Mon," he said finally.  

She smiled.  "Yeah, it was," she answered.

******
At daybreak he woke up, quietly dressed and went to the kitchen, 
leaving her to sleep.  He made some vanilla coffee, and he 
couldn't help but think of Monica's breath as it wafted over the 
top of her coffee mug.  He thought about what had happened the 
night before and started having second thoughts.  If they were 
going to be partners, they shouldn't be sleeping together. The 
more he thought of the ramifications, the more convinced he 
became that he needed to put the brakes on this budding 
relationship.  He respected her abilities at work, he reasoned, 
and there were other women he could be seeing.  Just months ago 
he'd entertained thoughts about Agent Scully...  Yes, he thought 
to himself, last night should never be repeated.

As he stood at the sink, staring blankly at the kitchen window, 
he suddenly felt two eager arms wrap around his waist.  He 
nearly dropped his coffee, but managed to set it down before 
turning around in her arms.  "Hi," he said, smiling in spite of 
himself.

"Sorry to startle you," she said. She was wearing one of his 
shirts, a light blue one that somehow made her brown eyes look 
even more like puppy eyes than they usually did.  His heart 
melted at the sight and he nearly lost his resolve.

"Good morning," he said, trying to smile.  "Sleep well?"

"Your masseuse gave me the most marvelous back-rub..." She put 
the palms of her hands against his chest and flashed a devilish 
smile.  "I feel like a million bucks this morning," she added 
joyfully.

He took her hands and returned them to her sides.  His face grew 
serious, and he looked down and away, not wanting to face her.  

"What's wrong?" she asked.  She felt both hurt and worried.  She 
put a hand on his cheek and turned his face toward her.  "Did I 
do something wrong?"

"Monica," he started.  He wished he didn't have to do this but 
he knew it was the right thing to do.  "I'm having second 
thoughts..."  He waited for a response, but she said nothing.  
She let her hand drop and she bit her lower lip.  He continued, 
"If we're going to be partners..."

"We're not partners yet," she pointed out.

"Well, not technically," he agreed.  "But Monica," he looked 
more directly into her eyes. "I don't want people to get the 
wrong idea.... about why I want you on the X-Files."  She was 
silent again.  "And I don't want *you* to have the wrong idea 
about why I want you for a partner."  She clenched her teeth, 
and he could see the whites of her eyes turning pink.  "And," he 
paused and bored his eyes into hers, "If something happens to 
me, I need to know that the bureau will take
you seriously.  That you'll be able to do your job."

At this final point, tears welled up in her eyes and overflowed 
almost immediately, tracing two fine lines down her cheeks.  He 
brushed one away, and she brushed the other one away before he 
could get to it.  She could feel herself shaking on the inside 
and hoped she could hold herself together.  He watched her face 
for a moment, his concern evident in his eyes, his determination 
evident in his lips.

Finally she said, "I understand what you're saying."  She 
swallowed and looked at him earnestly.  "But you should know... 
People will be getting the wrong idea anyway."

She sat down at the kitchen table and motioned for him to join 
her.  They sat face to face for a moment, until he said 
"Well...?"

She swallowed and mustered her strength.  "When I was in New 
York, when I was working your case..."  He nodded for her to 
continue.  "I was involved with a fellow agent... well, my 
superior actually..."

"Brad Follmer," Doggett offered.  "I knew about that."

She raised her eyebrows.  "I wonder how many other people knew 
about that."  She sighed and continued, "We tried to be 
discreet, but..."

"You can't hide something like that from trained investigators," 
he smiled, trying to put her at ease.  "It's okay.  I don't have 
a problem with it."

"We're talking about Brad Follmer here."  She paused and gave 
him a significant look.  "Assistant Director Brad Follmer."  
Doggett simply nodded and looked questioningly at her.

"You don't know him like I do.  He could be trouble for us.  
And, what I hope nobody knew about him, about us..."  This was 
the hard part, the part she hoped she'd never have to tell him.  
"Was that he was, um, very jealous of the time I spent with 
you."  His eyebrows rose and his forehead wrinkled.  She 
continued, "It became a real issue between us. It's why he 
pulled strings to get me transferred to New Orleans, because you 
were about to graduate from the academy."  She paused and 
studied his face.  He nodded slightly, seeing that she wanted to 
continue.  She felt her lower lip quivering slightly and bit on 
it.  When she felt she could continue, she added, "And later, I 
realized he was right." The surprise in Doggett's face made her 
hurry to correct what she'd said.  "Not about our relationship.  
But about my feelings for you.  He was right to think I cared 
about you a little too much.  He knows me too well, John.  I 
won't be able to hide my feelings from him."

He leaned back in his chair.  "So, what you're saying is..."

"If you're uncomfortable with rumors," she said.  "You might 
want to reconsider having me for your partner.  I'm not proud of 
what I did in my past.  I'm not ashamed of it, either," she said 
defiantly.  "But I don't want it to affect you... or your work.  
I'll just go back to New Orleans, and we can forget about last 
night..."

He sat silently for a few minutes, considering what she'd said.  
She watched his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but 
all she could conclude was that he was thinking carefully.  
Finally, he leaned forward, put his elbows on the table and 
thrust his head forward.  He gestured with his hands as he said, 
"I do want you to be my partner..."  He paused, then added, "I'm 
not afraid of A.D. Follmer, but I don't want to do anything to 
encourage more rumors than will already be floated. So, do you 
still want to be on the X-Files with me?"

She nodded silently.

"Okay, then.  It's a deal," he said.

"So, that's it?" she asked.

"That's it," he said matter-of-factly.

*****
That night, Reyes stood in her hotel room, undressing for bed. 
She stopped when she got to her black panties, and she laid 
down, her face buried in her pillow, and sighed.  She imagined 
John's strong hands kneading her tired muscles, and tried to 
forget their conversation the next morning.  But despite her 
best efforts to focus on the good times, she cried herself to 
sleep.  The next morning the phone rang, and she awoke hoping it 
was him.  Instead, it was Brad Follmer calling.

Doggett buried his face in his pillows, inhaling her scent with 
every breath.  He pressed his body into the mattress and 
couldn't help imagining it was her body. He fell asleep that 
way, and dreamed about her -- her sunny face, her well-toned 
body, the tears he'd brought to her eyes.  The next morning, he 
awoke, still face-down, his arms outstretched as if searching 
for someone, but there was nobody there.  He got dressed and 
went to the kitchen, pointedly avoiding the good coffee, the 
vanilla coffee Monica loved.  He reached into the back of the 
cupboard for the emergency instant, and put water in the tea 
kettle.  He hoped that nothing important would happen that day.

THE END