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She was trouble. He learned that the first day. Trouble with a capital "T".

And John Doggett was a man who avoided trouble at all costs. Growing up in a mean neighborhood, he*d learned early that failing to stay out of trouble could land you in prison or leave you dead in the gutter.

Not that he always followed his own council. His ex-wife was proof of that. But that was another story.

To be truthful, it wasn't anything that Special Agent Dana Scully did that made her trouble.

It was the simple fact that she existed, and that he, despite his best efforts, responded to her.

She made him think of things he didn't want to think about, until he thought his mind was no longer his own. She stirred feeling that he thought were gone forever, dead since his bitch of an ex-wife disappeared into the night with their son and stole his reason for living.

Alicia had been sex on two legs; a drug he'd grown quickly addicted too. And like most illicit drugs, she was as destructive as she was seductive. In hindsight, he knew he had been blinded by his mindless physical response to her. Once his son was gone, he turned that part of himself off. It had gotten him into trouble and had cost him not just his son, but his self-respect.

When she first disappeared, he'd been obsessed with finding her and Luke. But after months and months of looking, he finally faced the truth that Alicia would not be found until she wished it so. And he was left to try to learn to be a childless father.

It had taken years to rebuild his world. And if he wasn't happy, he'd found a measure of peace. Or at least a workable solution for his life that allowed him to get from day to day. He poured himself into his work and rose quickly through the ranks.

At first he'd been flattered, being assigned to head the task force in Agent Mulder's disappearance.

He knew all about Spooky Mulder. Hell, the greenest Agents out of Quantico learned about the X-Files before they were dry behind the ears. It was it was part of the unofficial orientation to the Hoover building. Like knowing which floor had the best coffee maker, how submit an expense report so that it was reimbursed without delay, and which of the female support staff would put out.

Doggett had seen Mulder seen him prowling the halls of the Hoover building, his petit partner struggling to keep pace with his ground-eating strides.

He had tried to remember what he'd thought of her then, the woman his co-workers christened Mrs. Spooky. While he'd been with Alicia, he'd had eyes for no one but her. And after Alicia. Well, she was just another agent. Well, maybe that wasn't completely true. He knew she was highly intelligent, meticulous, and that her conduct and behavior were circumspect, above reproach. Though his co-workers may have spoken mockingly of her and her devotion to her flaky partner, Doggett suspected that she really intimidated the hell out of them.

So when they finally met formally, John Doggett had no idea that this tiny little redhead was about the turn his life upside down.

She sat quiet and composed next to him, patiently waiting her turn while AD Skinner was questioned.

He was a cop, and would not refuse such an opportunity, handed to him, as it was, on a sliver platter. So he worked her. Worked like any good cop would work a witness, carefully priming the well for whatever secrets might rise up and spill forth.

He'd underestimated Scully. His questions were designed to put her on the defensive, to keep her from thinking to clearly. When she caught on to his technique her anger was fast and hot and scorched him magnificently. When she tossed his offering of water back at his face, and he sat there allowing it to drip heedlessly down his neck, his co-workers were awed by his control.

They never realized that the truth was, he couldn't get up and chase after her. Otherwise everyone in the bullpen would have seen that he was sporting a sudden and wholly unexpected erection.