Title: Confessions Part 5

Author: J. D. Rush

Email Address: yanksfan462@aol.com

Website: http://www.livejournal.com/users/gimgolas/

Category: het romance and friendship

Series: Big Things Universe; follows "The Best is Yet to Come"

Pairings: Byers/Reyes; Doggett/Barbara

Rating: PG, barely

Summary: Reyes does some confessing, and Doggett makes a confession of his own. Yet another detour on the "Big Things" highway.

Spoiler: Release

Disclaimer: CC, yadda. 1013, yadda, yadda. FOX, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Confessions Part 5

December 25, 2002

Woodbury, Long Island

2:13 A.M.

*RING*

*RING*

"Ah, yeah. . .Doggett. . ."

"Hi, Jackie."

"Mo? That you? You know what time it is?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, John. I forgot the time difference. I'll call back in the morning."

"Don't bother. I'm up now. What's goin' on?"

"Ah, nothing."

"Nuthin'? You woke me up at. . .shit. . .two in the mornin' to tell me 'nuthin'? For your sake it better be somethin'."

"You're awfully cranky, John."

"Gee, I wonder why."

"I bet you've got bed hair right now, huh?"

"You're really pushing your luck here, Monica."

"I got engaged."

*pause* "What?"

"I'm getting married, Jackie."

"Byers?"

"Who else?"

"Well, I don't know. You're down in Mexico. Maybe you met up with an old boyfriend or somethin'." 

"Oh, yeah--like I'd throw over Byers for a high school flame."

"Hey, you never know. In my experience, women are constantly changin' their minds."

"We have to. How else are we supposed to keep men on their toes?"

"Seems to me you gals do a fine job of that anyway."

*chuckle* "Asshole."

"So, how did he ask you?"

"Well, we were all sitting in the living room and. . ."

"Wait. He did it in front of the family?" 

"Yeah. It's sort of a tradition. We all open one gift on Christmas Eve. John handed me this small box and. . .*sniffle* God, Jackie--he got down on his knee and everything. Right in front of everyone. I was bawling like a baby."

"Would'a paid good money to have seen that."

"You can. They got the whole thing on tape."

"Great. Can't wait. You get a nice ring?" 

"A really nice ring. And are you ready for this?"

"Dere's more?"

"Yeah. He actually asked my father for my hand first. Can you believe it?"

"From Byers?  Yeah, I can believe it." 

"Really impressed Dad, that's for sure."

"What did Mom think?"

"She utterly adores him. Says he's the nicest guy I ever brought home--except for you, of course."

*snicker* "I'm honored. Tell her I said 'hi'."

"I will."

"John, is everything okay in here?"

I put down my cell phone and glanced up at the woman standing in the doorway to the guest room. "Yeah, Barb. Everything's fine."

"I thought I heard you talking to someone. . ."

"You did." I gestured to the phone. "It's Monica."

She pulled her robe tighter around her. "Oh. Okay. I'll leave you two alone then." With that, she turned and walked away. I picked up the phone again to hear Mo's concerned voice.

"Jackie? Is someone there?"

"Actually, *I'M* the someone."

"Huh?"

"You're not the only one who went visiting for the holidays."

"Oh, God. Why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to bother anyone. When I got your answering machine at home, I just thought I'd try your cell. I was so excited, I wasn't thinking . ."

"Mo, it's okay. It's only Barbara."

*long pause* "Barbara? YOUR Barbara?"

"Yeah. She invited me up for Christmas. . ."

"Like she does every year. . ."

"Uh, yeah. And this year, I took her up on it."

*squeal* "OHMYGOD!  Jackie, that's wonderful!"

"Jeez, you sound more excited about that than your engagement."

"I am! I hate seeing you all alone."

"Mo, it's just Christmas dinner."

"Uh-huh. And what caused this sudden change of heart?"

"Well, I. . .after that thing with. . .you know, a few months back. . ."

"I know, Jackie."

"Yeah, well. . .after we scattered Luke's ashes. . .we've been in contact. . working through some things that have hung around too long."

"Closure."

"I really hate that word, Mo." 

"Sorry."

"Well, anyway. . .this year, when she asked. . .I was ready to give it a try."

"So, you're going to tell her, right?"

"Tell her what?"

*deep sigh* "You know what."

*resigned sigh* "I can't do that."

"Sure you can. All you do is sit her down and say, 'Barb, I still love you'."

*snort* "Yeah, sure. Easy as pie."

"Hey, it works in the movies. You never know until you try."

"Mo, it's been too damn long. Christ, we've been divorced seven years now."

"And she won't wait for you forever, Jackie."

"What makes you think she's waiting?"

"Hmmmm, I don't know. Why do you think she keeps inviting you over for the holidays? Why hasn't she ever gotten remarried?"

"I haven't remarried, either."

*smugly* "Exactly."

"I'm sure you're wrong."

"Then prove it."

"Can we get back to you and Byers? So when's the big day?"

*sigh* "We've been engaged for 15 minutes. We haven't had time to pick a date yet, silly."

"Well, whenever it is, you know I'll be there." *pause* "I mean, if you WANT me there."

*laugh* "Of COURSE I want you there. Who else would be my maid of honor?"

"In your dreams, Mo. I ain't gonna be your maid of honor."

"But Jackie. . ."

"Look, only a girl can be a maid of honor."

"Okay, you can be my 'stud of honor'."

"Monica, how much eggnog have you had tonight?"

"Jackie, I'm serious. You're my best friend. I want you by my side when I get married."

*pause* "Well. . .okay. Since you put it that way. But I ain't wearing a dress."

"You're going to deprive us of seeing those sexy legs of yours?"

"And I'm not dancin' with the best man."

"Awwww. . .Frohike will be so disappointed." *Muffled voices* "Hey, Jackie, I gotta run. Mom and Dad want to get some more pictures. Tell Barb I said 'hi'."

"I will."

*pause* "You should tell her how you feel."

*sigh* "You said it yourself, Mo. I waited too long."

"That's NOT what I said. I told you not to wait any longer."

"Close enough. It still means that it's too late to do anything."

"It's never too late for love."

"It is for me."

"Jackie, trust me on this. Barb is a good woman. Don't give up on her."

"How can you be sure she'd even be receptive to what I have to say?"

"Trust me. I can sense these things. Give it another chance."

"I did. That's why I'm here, ain't it?"

"You tell me." *more voices in background* "Okay, I've really got to go now. Promise me you'll try?"

*big sigh* " 'Kay. Promise."

"Good."

"You take care of yourself, Mo. I'll see you next week."

"Yeah. Next week."

"And Mo. . .?"

"Yeah. . .?"

"I'm really happy for you. For both of you."

"Thanks." *sniffle* "Merry Christmas, Jackie."

"You too, Mo."

I rang off the phone, and, since I knew I wasn't getting back to sleep for a while, I threw on my robe, went to the bathroom to take care of some personal business, then headed off to the kitchen for something to drink. As I walked into the room, I saw Barb sitting at the kitchen table, sipping from a mug. Half-asleep, no make-up, her hair mussed-up and lop-sided--God, she was beautiful.

She looked up as I approached, her captivating green eyes filled with concern, and asked, "Is everything okay with Monica?"

"Yeah, she's more than okay," I answered. "She got engaged tonight."

I think it was a good thing she wasn't drinking from the mug as I said that--it would have been a spectacular spit take. "She did?"

"Yup. That's why she was calling me." I opened one of the overhead cupboards and took down a glass. "She couldn't wait to tell me the good news."

A pause, as she took a sip from her mug before she inquired, softly, "And how do you feel about that, John?"

"How should I feel?" I countered, walking over to the fridge and pulling out the carton of milk.

"I don't know. I guess I always thought that you and her. . ."

I cut her off before she could finish her sentence. "There's never been anything between me and Monica, Barb, you know that."

"I never said there was," she replied, evenly. "But there were feelings for her. You can't deny that. I've seen it in your eyes."

"Perhaps. Maybe," I acknowledged, pouring some milk in the glass. "At one time. . ."

"And she for you. Even if you wouldn't see it, she couldn't hide it."

"I saw it, Barb," I said, returning the carton to the fridge. "I'm not blind."

"Then why didn't you ever say anything to her?" she persisted.

Taking a seat at the table across from her, I replied, "I did, many years ago. We tried dating a few times, but it just didn't feel right."

"You were still grieving for Luke," Barbara pointed out, sensibly. "Maybe you weren't ready."

"Maybe," I agreed, taking a sip from my glass. "Doesn't matter now."

"Why not?"

"I just told you--she got engaged."

"Yes, but not married, right? Until that ring is on her finger, she's still on the market."

"Believe me, she's been off the market for months now. Her fiancé --John Byers--he's a friend of mine. She's absolutely mad about him, and he's only got eyes for her. They're really happy. And I'm really happy for them." 

"Seems a shame. You two are really good together."

That made me chuckle. "You kidding me? We're as opposite as night and day. It never would have worked."

She shrugged as she stated, "Sometimes opposites attract."

I thought for a moment about Dana and Frohike, and silently agreed with her, even as I said, "Yeah, and sometimes that's what keeps marriage counselors and divorce lawyers rolling in the dough." I finished off my milk before adding, jokingly, " Why are you pushing so hard to get me and Mo together, anyway? You trying to get rid of me or something?"

"No," she answered with a laugh, and a shake of her head. "I guess I'm just trying to understand you, John."

"There's not much to understand, Barb. While I love Monica to death, I've never been IN love with her. It took her a while, but I think she finally figured out that we would never be more than friends. She deserves someone like Byers--someone who will devote his life to her."

"Seems you really like this Byers guy."

I nodded. "Yeah, he's a great guy. Treats Monica real good. You think I'd let him near her if he didn't?"

"No, I suppose you wouldn't." She smiled as she added, "I'm glad for her, too. Monica's a good woman." 

I had to grin. "Funny. She said the same thing about you." I took in her big green eyes, pretty eyes that once sparkled with joy and light--now darkened by shadows and sadness--and whispered, "You're both right."

A pretty blush rose to her cheeks--she always got embarrassed when I'd compliment her--and she rushed to hide her unease with a drink from her mug. Once she got her composure back, she said, "You're making great strides, John. There was a time you wouldn't have talked to me like this, telling me your feelings."

Now it was my turn to be embarrassed. Amazing how such a simple truth could cut so deep. Desperate to get off the current subject, I blurted out, "She wants me to be her maid of honor."

"And you accepted."

"A'course I did. But I drew the line at wearing anything made from teal taffeta."

"I'm sure she was disappointed," she quipped. 

"Devastated," I deadpanned.

We looked at each other for a moment before we both started to chuckle, the laughter easy, familiar and comfortable. That was one of the things I loved about Barb--when we were together, there was always plenty of laughter. It was also one of the things I missed about my old life.

And at that moment, I decided I didn't want to live without that laughter any more. If Monica was right, this might be the best chance I ever had to fix the mistakes between us. Besides, I had made a promise to my partner, and dammit, I was gonna be a man, and follow through with it. Looking across the table at the beautiful woman I had loved nearly half my life, I decided to take the plunge. "You know, while I'm over here spillin' my guts, there's something else you should know."

"And that is. . .?"

Gathering up all my courage, and holding her gaze, I confessed, "I think the reason things never felt right with Mo is. . ." I stopped, took a deep breath, and finished shakily, "I never stopped loving you, Barb."

Her mug clattered as it hit the table, her big eyes opened wide. "John?" she gasped, her voice as shaky as mine.

In for a penny, in for a pound. The worst she could do was throw me out of the house and never speak to me again. "Barb, hear me out. This is something I should have told you, God, ages ago. Those weeks and months after we lost Luke, I was so angry--at you, at myself, at the world. I could barely find a reason to get up in the mornings."

Reaching across the table, I took her hand in mine, clasping it for strength as I continued. "I knew I was driving you away, and I was terrified of losing you, too, but it seemed no matter what I did or said, nothing came out the way I wanted it to. I couldn't forgive myself for what happened, so how could I possibly forgive you? There was so much guilt, so much blame, and it seemed we were both determined to one-up the other to become the bigger martyr."

"I think it ended up a tie," she cut in, drolly. 

I snorted, laughter with no humor. "Yeah, that's about right." Squeezing her hand a bit tighter, I struggled to finish my confession. "But through it all--our separation, the divorce, all these years apart--you were always on my mind, and in my heart. That's why I could never let Monica in, Barb. Because you were already there." I gave her a diffident smile. "As you said, she's a good woman. She deserved to be first, and I couldn't give her that."

She sat quietly for a moment, obviously stunned by my admission; with a shake of her head she finally said, "In all the years I've known you, I've never heard you talk like this."

"Maybe if I had, we might have stayed together," I replied wistfully, and, reluctantly, released her hand.

"Maybe." She wrapped both hands around her mug, and took a slow, careful sip of her tea before asking, "Why are you telling me this now, John?"

"I don't know. Seemed like the right time. All this talk about love and weddings and such." I paused, wondering if I should continue and lay my heart out on the table. It took just a moment to decide--this was my one chance to be completely honest. The truth had been withheld for too long. "After we scattered Luke's ashes, I got to thinking about you, about us. Remembering our lives together. Started remembering the good times. There were a lot of those, huh?"

A sad smile crossed her face as she nodded. "Yes, there were. Many good times."

"It was so easy to forget them, you know? To lose them in everything that happened after Luke. . ." The sentence trailed off, and I glanced away, trying to collect my thoughts. When I spoke again, the words came out haltingly, ripped from my soul, "But after seeing you again earlier this year, spending time with you--even under those painful conditions--I realized how much I missed you, missed the good times. And I wanted them back. I wanted. . .a chance to make new memories that were just as good. Better. I wanted. . .a chance to apologize for everything I put you through." A deep sigh, a final confession. "I wanted another chance to be with you."

Those beautiful eyes filled with unshed tears. "So why didn't you say anything about this before?" she asked, softly.

I shrugged. I really didn't have an answer for her except the obvious one: "I'm a guy?"  

That earned a loud guffaw. "Yeah, I guess that pretty much explains everything," she joked. 

Joining in her laughter, I said, "Hey, you know me, Barb. I'm better with actions than words."

"So what are you trying to say, Mr. Action-Man?" she challenged.

For so long, I had wondered about the opportunities squandered, the risks not taken--and I wasn't about to let this one slip between my fingers. With purpose and determination, I stood up and went to her, dropping to a crouch in front of her chair.  My heart beating a mile a minute within my chest, I reached up and cupped her lovely face in shaking hands, pulling her to me until I felt her warm, trembling mouth press against mine and I was once again kissing the lips I thought lost to me forever.  

It was as if the past 18 years simply melted away and we were on our first date once more, one set up by two friends I couldn't name if my life depended on it. But I still remember she wore a white sundress with periwinkle flowers, we saw "Beverly Hills Cop", and went dutch on burgers at McDonald's afterwards. And at the end of the night, she had granted me a shy, chaste goodnight kiss, sweeter than any kiss I had ever experienced. I knew that night she was the one for me.

As our kiss came to an end, Barb sighed dreamily, "Now I remember why I married you."

I smirked. "Haven't lost the magic touch, eh?"

"Not one bit."

Touching my brow to hers, basking in the familiarity of her warmth, I breathed, "God, I've missed you, Barb."

"I've missed you too, John." She caressed my jaw tenderly, and yeah, as cliché as it sounds, I melted at her tender touch. "So, now what?"

"Bed?" I suggested.

"I see you're still a fast operator," she retorted.

"No, I meant. . .to sleep. It's been a long night, and I'm beat."

She just rolled her eyes. "You always were a tease, John Doggett."

"And you were always so much fun to tease." I clasped her right hand in mine, brought it to my lips, and kissed the palm gently. "We'll talk more in the morning, right?"

A soft kiss touched my forehead before she straightened in her chair and said, "Count on it, Action-Man. You still take your coffee black?"

I nodded. "You still make those wicked home-made cinnamon buns?"

A twinkle flashed in her eye. "Ah, now the truth comes out. I wondered why you finally accepted my invitation."

"Guilty as charged," I grinned, standing up and grabbing the empty mug and glass from the table. Placing them in the sink and turning on the tap, I admitted, "They were my favorite part of the holiday."

"Luke's, too," she said, softly.

I smiled at the memory, even as a lump formed in my throat. "Yeah, he loved those buns," I replied, quickly rinsing out the dirty items and setting them in the rack.   "With lots of icing."

"Just like his dad."  Next thing I knew, she was standing next to me at the sink, her arm wrapped lovingly around my waist. "This isn't going to be easy, John."

"I know. But I think we owe it to ourselves to give it another chance." Turning to face her, I vowed quietly, "I promise I'll get it right this time."

She gazed at me for a moment, and I couldn't help but notice her eyes seemed less haunted than before. With a gentle smile, she whispered, "You got it right the first time, John." A feathery-light kiss touched my cheek, then she turned and headed off to bed. And as I made my way back to the guest bedroom, I smiled myself, knowing that Barb's forgiveness was the best Christmas gift I could have asked for. 

THE END