Dawg in the Hat

Author- coolbyrne
Rating- G, well, maybe PG, I think there's  a "damn" and a 
"hell" in it somewhere.
Spoiler- I'd put this somewhere near the end of the upcoming 
season 9, when they've finally gotten comfortable around each 
other and have dropped the damn "Agent" this and "Agent" that 
routine.
Disclaimer- Give me a break.. like anyone would think these 
characters are mine.  Though I wouldn't mind if Doggett were 
mine.. er, move along.
Author's notes- Nothing special here; just something that came 
to me in a dream.  You know, usually I dream about showing up at 
work in the nude or falling off a cliff, but for one shining 
moment-Doggett in a Marine uniform!  I curse my alarm clock.
Feedback is always appreciated- fugitive@ihateclowns.com


********* 

"Wow, look at you," she said, as she walked into the small 
basement office.

Her voice startled him and he turned, "Oh.  Hey, how you doin', 
Scully?"

"I'm good, John."  She took a sip of her coffee, smiling at the 
memory of how they decided to finally drop the `Agent'.  She, of 
course, was more than happy with the familiar, `Scully'.  He, 
however, refused to be called `Doggett', and in fact, Scully had 
to agree- it wasn't the easiest of names to say comfortably.  So 
they settled on the casual `John'.  A first for her, though in 
hindsight, she wasn't surprised; she had a tendency to do a lot 
of things differently since she met him.

Eyeing him over the rim of her cup, she confessed, "Ok, I give 
up.  Was there a call to war that I missed while I was getting 
coffee?  Is that why you needed the day off?"

Doggett smiled.  He could see why she was surprised to see him 
decked out in full Marine uniform.  Twice today he had startled 
himself, catching a glimpse in reflective windows and wondering 
who that man was.  

"Well," he began, "there WAS a skirmish at the Canadian border 
over who played better hockey.  A national emergency was 
narrowly averted when the Canadians called it a draw after 
someone on our side pointed out they have way better beer."

Scully laughed and replied, "You would have only needed the one 
day off anyway, had it all gone wrong."

"Ouch!  I'll remember to keep my distance if we ever have a case 
in Buffalo or somethin'."

"Actually," she informed him, "I've been to Canada.  It's a 
beautiful country.... Eh?"

Their laughter filled the small room.

"Now really- why the uniform?"

Doggett sat on the edge of his desk.  "My CO's retiring today.  
I'm gonna head up to Quantico for the ceremony, give him my 
best.  Figured I'd dig out the uni one more time.  Though," he 
put his hand on his abdomen and frowned," I think the dry 
cleaner did somethin' to it.  I don't recall it bein' so 
clingy."

She chuckled.  "Now you know how women feel everyday, soldier."  
She paused then ventured, "He must mean a lot to you, to get you 
wearing the uniform again."

He looked up into her face and nodded truthfully. "When I joined 
the Marines at 18, I didn't have a lot goin' for me.  Captain 
Fraser very subtly took me under his wing.  Taught me how to be 
a good Marine; tried to teach me how to become a good man."

"He did a good job.  He must be very proud of you."

If she didn't know better, she would have thought she had just 
seen Agent John Doggett blush.  In fact, she was sure she saw a 
crimson wave wash over his face, tipping his ears to scarlet 
points.  Must've been the lighting.

He saw her bemused grin.  "And what are you grinnin' about over 
there?"  Knowing full well she had caught him blushing.  Hell, 
he could still feel it on his face.

"Nothing."

"Uh huh," he replied, unconvinced.

Changing lanes, she asked, "So what are you doing HERE?"

He turned to the stack of papers on his desk.  "I used the 
company phone to make the hotel arrangements but I left all the 
information here.  I figured I'd better come back or I'd be 
drivin' around Quantico all damn day."

"Never once stopping to ask for directions," Scully tagged on.

"You're just right on the ball with the one-liners today, aren't 
ya?"

"Must be the coffee."

He gave an amused grunt in reply, then started rifling through 
his papers, looking for the wayward scrap that would make his 
day so much easier.  A comfortable quietness descended in the 
room, with only the sound of shuffling paper breaking the 
silence.  Doggett slowly turned to the source of the gaze he 
knew had never left him.

"Maybe you should take a picture.  That way, you can pull it out 
and look at it whenever you need a laugh," he admonished, trying 
to sound gruff.

Scully jolted back to the present. "I wasn't thinking that at 
all," she said warmly.  "Though," she mischievously added, "I'm 
sure there's a camera in here somewhere."  She turned as if to 
search for it.

Doggett stretched out his hand in a halting motion, "NO!"  She 
swung around at the quickness of his reply and smiled.  
Backtracking, he amended, "Er, I mean, that won't be necessary, 
really."

She tilted her head and appraised him.  "Camera shy, John?"

"I'm cuttin' ya off the coffee, Scully."  She smirked and he 
continued, "Really- what's on your mind?"

She nestled the cup between her hands and gazed at the floor.  
Looking back up, she answered, "I was just thinking of how you 
remind me of my father."  She saw the brow furrow and she added, 
"Not like THAT."  He smiled.  "I just mean," she went on, "it 
reminds me so much of being a kid.  I remember seeing my father 
in casual clothes and how that shocked me.  I was so used to 
seeing him in uniform.  Then later, my eldest brother was the 
same.  My father used to say that the Navy was 85% ceremony, 13% 
training and 2% combat."

Doggett let out a good laugh at this.  "And here I thought it 
was just the Marines."  He looked at her warmly.  "I forgot you 
were a Navy brat."

She nodded.  "Yep.  I never realized the life that existed off 
base until I started dating.  I remember bringing my first 
boyfriend home."

"'Drop and give me fifty, young man!'" Doggett mock-barked.

Scully's eyes widened.  "That's EXACTLY what he said!"  She 
caught the corner of his mouth starting to twitch and couldn't 
help but mirror it.  Their laughter started as a small ripple 
until it rolled into a full-out crescendo.  Doggett clutched his 
stomach and Scully wiped a tear from her eye.  "Poor Jimmy Shaw. 
And I wondered why he never called me again," which just got 
them going once more.

"Stop, stop!" he pleaded, "I have to.." -chuckle-".. I have to 
get outta here.  You're not helpin'."

With a nod of her head, Scully motioned to the bulletin board 
behind his desk.  "The paper.  It's pinned to the board.  Is 
that helpful?"

Doggett twisted around and sure enough, there it was. He 
stretched back, carefully seeing to it he didn't topple off the 
desk, and ripped the captive paper from the pin.  Holding it up 
and tilting it towards Scully, he said, "Thanks."  He slid off 
the edge of the desk and said sincerely, "And thanks for 
sharin', Scully."  She knew what he meant and gave a small nod 
of her head.

He had his hand on the doorknob when he heard her say, "Sergeant 
Doggett?"

He turned with a grin.  "Yeah?"

She pointed to his hands, then her head, then his own, "Could 
you.. you know.. the hat?"

He looked down at the hat in his hands and got the message.  
Shaking his head in that "I don't believe I'm doin' this" 
manner, he bent slightly and adjusted the hat on his head.  He 
returned to his full upright stance and held his hands out at 
his sides, as if to say, "Well?"

She used the moment to take him all in.  A camera wasn't 
necessary; this image of him, decked out in full uniform, 
standing before her waiting for a sign of approval, would never 
leave her.

Her sign consisted of dramatically fanning herself with her 
hand.  "Wow."

At this, he relaxed his pose and rolled his eyes.  However, the 
return of the crimson to his face told her how he really felt.  
She would keep that memory, too.

He turned to leave.. and forgot he hadn't opened the door.  
"Oomph," he muttered, as he met the door full-on.  He didn't 
dare turn back to see the smile that went with the laugh behind 
him.  Salvaging as much dignity as he could, he gave a little 
cough and reached for the handle.  It wasn't until he was safely 
outside the doorway that he turned to look at her.  Sure enough, 
she was trying, unsuccessfully, he thought, to stifle a smirk 
with her hand.  He simply shook his head at her, and with a 
surprising wink, he was gone.

She heard his spit-polished boots carry their owner down the 
hall to the elevator, each step receding farther and farther.  
Not far enough though- she could still hear him cursing, "Damn 
hat."