Archive of Our Own

When she walked into the garage, she hadn't expected to see a pair of grease-smeared jeans hanging out of the front end of her car. Beyond that, she had certainly not expected the grease-smeared jeans to belong to John Doggett.

"Hey. Almost finished," he said, peeking around the hood.

She blinked once, deeply, trying to focus her vision and her brain. John Doggett had his head and elbows buried in the engine of her car. How had she not known he knew enough about cars to work on them? How had she missed something like that?

Taking up a position just back from the hinge of the hood, she leaned a hip against the side of the car. "So, what do I owe you for this?" she asked, then took a pull from the beer bottle in her hand.

He poked his head around the edge of the hood again. "Couple of those 'd be a good start," he nodded to the beer.

She smiled. "Sure. Anything else?"

A headshake, then his grease-smudged face disappeared again. "What do you do to this car, Dana?" he asked.

"Drive it?" she replied. She cringed when she heard a metal object clank to the ground.

Doggett laughed. "Drive it through what? A gravel pit?"

"No," she mock-growled. "I use the pool cars for that."

He laughed again. "I promise I won't tell."

Scully giggled. "Thanks." Another sip of her beer, then she leaned around the hood. "What are you doing anyway?"

He lifted his head to answer her, but never managed to give his response, because Scully started laughing at him - hysterically. She couldn't help it. There was a black a smudge of something down the center of his nose.

"What?" he grumbled.

Scully waved her hand and tried to catch her breath. Rather than attempt to speak, she brushed her hand over her nose. The smudge was adorable and she could not stop laughing.

He scowled at her and brushed the back of his hand down his nose. A glance at his hand revealed the reason for her amusement. "Funny."

She still could not stop laughing.

"You want me to fix your car or not?" he grumbled.

Scully took a deep breath to get herself under control "I'm sorry," she said. "Yes, please, fix my car, John." She moved away from the car and started around the front on her way toward the house. "I'll get you a beer," she told him.

On the way, she got a lovely glance of his ass in those smudged Levis as he bent over the car's engine. It wasn't that she hadn't gotten a look before, but that she couldn't recall getting a good look at him in a pair of jeans. Add to that his grease monkey look and he was hitting a couple of her hot buttons. She was loving it, except for the 'awkward' it might be at work.

Once in the kitchen, she tried to shake it off as coincidence, but the thought of John, all sweaty and sticky and greasy, leaning over her car was causing a sexual response in her body. She pulled a couple cold beers out of the fridge. One, she pressed against her chest just above the collar of her V-neck, the other, against her stomach beneath the hem. It cooled her down some, but couldn't un-stiffen her aroused nipples or cease the wetness between her legs.

That startled her a little. It had been a really long time since anything as simple as automotive oil on cotton tripped her pleasure center. Even so, why him? Why John Doggett?

"Hey? 'M I gonna get that beer or you gonna make love to it in the kitchen?" Doggett asked as he stepped inside, wiping grease and grime off his fingers with a shop cloth.

He startled her and she nearly dropped both bottles. Managing to keep them both from crashing to the floor, she held one out to him. "No, you can have it," she said.

Watching him pop the top and take a long pull from the bottle, she caught herself staring. Staring at his throat, at his chest, at his legs - though she could think of nothing his legs would be doing while he was drinking beer. However, she could think of several things he could do with his legs in other circumstances that didn't involve beer.

God, Dana. Get your head together, she told herself.

Doggett nodded at her. "You gonna drink that?'" he asked of the beer she had yet to even open.

She shook her head and held the bottle out to him. Then she watched him frown, confused, as his fingers brushed hers and her breath caught. "I'm fine," she answered before he could ask the question.

He held up a still greasy palm and a sweating beer bottle in surrender. "I didn't say anything."

"You were going to," she accused.

Lowering the bottle from his lips, he nodded. "Well, yeah, I was. But only because you're acting a little weird, Dana."

With a sigh, she leaned against the counter. "I'm sorry, John, I don't usually act this way." Was she really going to admit this to him? Yes, she was. She's a strong, modern woman; no reason not to. "Okay, I'm just going to say it. Watching you, out there, working on my car, in those jeans and smeared in grease was – is - really turning me on." She felt her skin flush hot and red.

Doggett's eyes widened and he nearly choked on his beer. "Really?" he gasped, coughing foam out of his lungs. "Never figured you the type."

She shrugged, feeling a little nervous. "I like men who are good with their hands." Her mouth bent into a sexy little smile.

"I see." He set the bottle aside on the counter.

Suddenly she was nervous again. Was he into this? Was she? Just being attracted to him all sweaty and smeared in oil didn't mean she had to sleep with him. Though, damn, she wanted to.

"It's... it started when I was a teenager. This neighbor of ours, about my age, was out working on this old beater he'd gotten for his birthday. He wasn't Mr. America or anything, but in a pair of comfortably worn jeans and a smudge of oil on his cheek, he got my motor revving, so to speak." During her description, she was having to back across the kitchen as he approached, almost stalking after her. He had this amazingly wicked twinkle in his eye. It made her heart race.

"Smudge, huh?" he asked as he got closer. He drew one long finger across his own face, then, as he pinned her against the far counter, drew a smudge along her jaw line. "Like this?" his gravelly, sexy voice asked her.

Her lungs started to burn from breathing so shallowly as he approached her. Her eyes dropped closed when he touched her. His skin was hot on hers and she could feel the latent heat off his chest. Her air conditioning wasn't pushing nearly enough cool air into the room.

In reply to his question, she finally pushed out an "Uh huh," followed by a gulp to swallow the lump in her throat.

He leaned closer. She pressed her palms into the counter and leaned away.

"John," she whispered.

"You want me to kiss you, don't you?" he asked as though he already knew the answer.

She felt her head nodding without talking to her brain first. The next thing she felt was rough, chapped lips brushing against the very corner of her mouth. A hint of beer made it's way over as well.

She sighed softly and pressed her hand to the side of his face. He had surprised her with that chaste little kiss. It set fire to her insides on top of the fire already there.

"Wow," she breathed.

Doggett laughed. "Were your expectations that low?"

Scully blinked in confusion at his question. It took her a moment to realize she might have offended him. "Oh no. Just my expectation of you kissing me, not of the kiss itself."

"Well, that's good, I guess," he said, still with that lightly amused tone to his voice.

From here, with him so close, she could see all of the characteristics of his face she hadn't noticed before. She let her fingers trace the fine crows feet at the corner of his eye. He blinked and when his eyes reopened they were a deeper, hungrier blue. That mixed with the grease smudge on his nose had her stomach flip-flopping.

Oh hell, she told herself and mentally rolled her eyes at her own trepidations. From the corner of his eye, she brushed her fingers along his jawbone and turned his chin toward her mouth. Had she telegraphed or was he thinking the same thing she was? His lips found hers in a hungry kiss.

He tasted of beer and the smell of an auto mechanic's garage. God, that was sexy to her. She pressed her tongue against his lips and he opened his mouth to let her explore. The beer taste was stronger now, but that only added to the experience. Somehow it made him feel like a real auto mechanic.

When he curved his large hands around her hips and pressed her more fully against the counter, she had to stop herself from wrapping her legs around his waist. Damn, that was a good kiss.

He panted hot breath in her ear and asked, "How far you going with this, Dana?"

Her libido leapt to 'All the way! Right now!' But she knew that wasn't a good idea. She breathed against his neck, brushed her lips against the warm, rough skin. "I don't know."

"Yes you do." He drew back and brushed a few strands of hair off her forehead. "You're just not sure if you should."

"You really are catching on to this X-Files thing. Aren't you?" she asked with a giggle.

He chuckled. "Nah. I'm just good at reading people."

"So, what are you reading now?" That sly sexy smirk slid over her face again.

"That you want to spend the night watching me fix your car."

Scully narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "Your reader's on the fritz." She gave his ass a smack. "Better reset it."

Doggett laughed. Then he growled and leaned in to nibble at her neck. 'Nipping sharp little bites up to her ear. "What d'you really want to do?" he rumbled.

Her legs decided all on their own to curl around his waist. The head tilt was conscious – she was letting him have access to her throat. "I really want you to take me right here." That was bolder than she ever thought she'd be. Apparently that motor oil smell was starting to affect her powers of rational thought.

"Ya sure?" he asked, lips buzzing her throat.

That was sexy too – him wanting to make sure she was really okay with this. Really ready. She did want to do it, but he was right – she wasn't sure if she should. She shook her head gently, tousled hair grazing his cheek.

Doggett eased her butt onto the counter, giving her some support. Then his hands trailed up to cup her face. "It's okay, Dana." He kissed her again. "Don't have to do anything you don't want."

She nodded, then shook her head. "I want to. I really do," she breathed. "But I don't want to rationalize it to make it okay."

He didn't look as hurt about her saying 'no' as she thought he would. Though he did look a little disappointed. She could quell a little of that. She reached out to him, pulled him in and laid another kiss on him. "Making out is okay," she whispered.

She felt the chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Haven't heard that one in a long time," he said, amusement in his tone.

"That mean you're gonna stop?"

He shook his head. "No." Then his mouth was on hers again.

His kisses were fully attentive and hot. He paid attention to every nuance of the act. She loved that. Blended with the mechanic smell and the beer, it was really turning her on. Her hips shifted closer to his, pressing her shorts against his jeans, and she was starting to regret her earlier decision.

Rather than focus on that, she turned her attention to the feel of his lips against hers. Then down her neck. Then the feel of his tongue dragging along her pulsepoint. He had never kissed her before, but he seemed to know how to get her going.

Granted, there was the added advantage that she was excited by the 'grease monkey' aspect of his appearance, but the man knew how to kiss. And how to work his mouth on her skin just right. He was really good. Dana was sure she was going to forget herself.

"John," she whispered, pressing her own lips against his ear. She didn't get to finish her question. The phone was jockeying for first position in her attention span. The phone only managed to win by virtue of Doggett pulling away and dragging the phone from the counter to hand to her.

"Dammit," she sighed before answering the phone. If it had been anyone other than Skinner on the other end, she would have chewed them out.