A/N We interrupt our regularly scheduled story to bring you this special edition. This is a Baxley one-shot that's set in my (mainly Chelsie) Downton Academy universe. If you're not familiar with that modern AU, that's all right; it's not really necessary to have read it in order to understand this version of Phyllis and Joseph's first date. (Having said that, I'll love you forever if you take a peek and read my story!) I'll give you a quick run-down of what you need to know. Joseph Molesley is the P.E. teacher and cricket coach at Downton Academy, a traditional British-type school (fictional, of course) located in present-day Chicago. Phyllis Baxter is the school's college/university and career counselor. After some uncharacteristic good fortune in a game of poker at a "game night" party, Joseph mustered up enough courage to ask Phyllis out. He invited her to go with him to the Cubs home opener, and of course, she accepted. That happened in the most recent chapter, Chapter 4, of Downton Academy: A Sequel. If you'd like to read about his asking her out, have a look. The chapter can pretty easily be read as a standalone, just for fun; little or no background information is necessary. After I posted the last chapter, several readers asked, wondered, commented, and speculated about Baxley's date. Libbybell (putneinyourpocketmike) encouraged me to write a Baxley chapter about the date, and so here it is. Thank you for the request, libbybell. This one's for you.

Monday, April 11, 2016; Chicago, Illinois, USA

As Joseph walked the short distance across campus from his flat to Phyllis's, he reflected on the events that had led to tonight's date. He'd worked with Phyllis for several years, and the two had cultivated a comfortable friendship. He'd been attracted to her as soon as he met her, but his initial attraction had grown even stronger over time, just as his affection for her had grown deeper. From early on, he would have liked to initiate romantic dealings, but he could never quite convince himself that she might be receptive to the idea. She'd always been kind to him, and he'd always been certain that she'd had a genuine friendly fondness for him; but he'd never dreamed she might feel anything amorous towards him … until two nights ago.

He still marveled at the fact that the most compassionate, most intelligent, most beautiful woman he'd ever known had agreed to go on a date with him. After a stroke of luck and a burst of confidence at the get-together on Saturday night, he'd asked her, and to his surprise and delight, she'd said yes. And when he'd walked her to her door later that night, he'd asked again – still in awe that he should be so fortunate and still afraid she might change her mind – whether she was certain she really meant it, whether she still wanted to go out with him. She'd smiled, kissed his cheek, and told him simply, "Quite sure." The pleasant memory caused him to quicken his steps as he neared her flat.

Joseph arrived at Phyllis's door at 4:57. He paced back and forth for three exactly minutes – until precisely 5:00, at which time he pressed her buzzer button. She answered promptly, and he shyly but proudly presented to her a bouquet of carnations.

"Hello, Phyllis. These are for you. See … those are the Cubs' colors: red, blue, and some white," he explained, pointing at the flowers.

She chuckled sweetly. "Yes, I see that. They're beautiful, Joseph, and very thoughtful. Thank you." Still smiling, she kissed his cheek. "Why don't you come in for a minute while I take care of these?"

"Pardon? Oh. Right. Yes." He was still dazed from the music of her laughter, the scent of her perfume, and the feel of her lips, so it took him a moment to recover enough of his wits to respond. "You look … er … very pretty," he stammered as he closed the door and followed her into her kitchen. "I … I like your hair like that." Her long, dark hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and she wore only scant makeup and simple jewelry. Her outfit comprised jeans, a black-and-white patterned blouse, and a black jacket. He'd rarely seen her looking so casual, but he thought the look suited her.

"Thank you. You look rather smart yourself." She returned the compliment easily, and he was gratified by her approval. In truth, his outfit was nothing special – a dark pair of jeans, a light blue button-down shirt with an open collar, and a gray sport coat – but it had taken him an inordinate length of time to decide on it.

As she arranged the carnations in a vase with some water, he managed with great difficulty not to stare at her inappropriately. "You once mentioned that you like Italian food," he said. "I've made us a reservation. I hope that's all right."

"Of course. Sounds lovely. How nice of you to remember that!" She smiled at him sweetly as she finished with the flowers. "All done here. Shall we?"

He stepped back and held out his arm, indicating that she should precede him, and she led him out of her flat.

Ten minutes later, they were seated at a cozy corner table at Balena, a nearby Italian restaurant.

"This is very nice," observed Phyllis as they looked over the menu. "I've been here once or twice, but not recently."

"I did some research and some asking around. I understand that it's a nice place for a date. Very … well, very … erm, romantic, they say," Joseph said nervously.

"I would agree – a nice, warm ambience. Well chosen, Joseph," she told him.

Thus assured that she was pleased with his choice, he relaxed. "I think the food should be good, too."

"You've never been here?"

"Well, no. I must admit, I've not had many … opportunities to … That is, I've never really had reason to … or occasion for … Well, I've not had much need to look for romantic spots. You see, I'm not very … experienced when it comes to dating."

"Surely not! A wonderful man like you? I'd never have guessed." She squinted and pretended to look at him suspiciously, but her eyes twinkled and her lips curled ever so slightly upward. "You're not hiding some terrible secret, are you? Something that drives people away?"

He blushed fiercely at her flirting and teasing. "No, I don't think so," he said.

"Well, then. If you're not a dangerous spy or an escaped convict, I can't understand it. But I won't complain. Whatever the reason, I'll consider myself lucky that you've not been snatched up yet."

He hardly knew how to respond to that; luckily, he didn't need to. The server came to take their orders, and to Joseph's delight, Phyllis suggested ordering some items to share. He agreed readily and let her choose. The food mattered far less to him than the woman with whom he was sharing it.

After a delicious meal and pleasant conversation, the two walked the short distance to the Red Line "L" stop and boarded the train. The train car was crowded, and they had to stand, but happily, that meant they were pressed close together and Joseph had to wrap his arm around Phyllis to steady her when the train started moving or came to a stop. He dared to imagine that she might be leaning into him more than was strictly necessary, but he couldn't be sure. They disembarked at the Addison Street station and entered the ball park along with thousands of others.

Never having been to a major-league baseball game before (or any baseball game, for that matter), Phyllis was impressed by the sights, sounds, and smells of Wrigley Field. As they took their seats just behind the third-base dugout, Joseph explained to her a little bit about the history of stadium and the team.

"Do you know much about baseball?" he wanted to know.

"No, not really," she told him. "Is it much like cricket?"

"Yes and no," he answered. "It's similar enough that you'll get the general idea and be able to follow the action, but there are important differences. I'll explain everything as it happens, if you'd like."

"I would like that, yes," she replied with a smile. Changing the subject, she asked, "How did you manage to get such fantastic seats? I may not know a great deal about the sport, but I can guess that third-row seats on the home team's side can't be easy to come by."

"Yes, you're right: they're not," he confirmed. "Do you remember a student called Claire Dawes?"

"Yes, of course I do! Perfect ACT and SAT scores … scholarship to Harvard … " she recalled.

"Well, the first time she sat for those exams, she didn't have perfect scores. She did very well, but not as well as she'd have liked. So her father asked me to help her prepare. I worked with her, and when she took them again … well … "

"You worked with her – and she got perfect scores! She told me she'd had help, but I didn't know … Of course, it doesn't surprise me. I should have known."

He deflected her praise. "Anyway, Mr. Dawes was very appreciative. Apparently, he knows some important people, and he was able to help me secure two season tickets for seats behind the home dugout," Joseph explained. "Sometimes I bring my dad, and once in a while I can talk someone else into joining me, but often I just come alone."

"Well, that's no good. We'll have to see about changing that," Phyllis dared to suggest.

They looked at each other hopefully, but they were interrupted when they had to move in order to let a fellow spectator pass by in front of them to get to his seat.

After some announcements and the playing of "The Star-Spangled Banner," the umpire yelled, "Play ball!" and the game began. Phyllis asked questions, and Joseph explained bits of the game here and there. He was an excellent teacher, and she was a quick study.

While Joseph watched the game, Phyllis delighted in watching him. He was like a little boy in his innocent enthusiasm. She was struck by his devotion and kindness. While other fans would have made unkind remarks and called the players nasty names when they didn't do well, Joseph was patient and encouraging, loyal to a fault. He was charitable even when speaking about the opposing team; when the Reds made a good plays, he was complimentary. Phyllis had long known that Joseph was a true gentleman, but his behavior and attitude tonight demonstrated most keenly that he was also a truly gentle man. She could see that he took the game seriously, and she hoped for his sake that the Cubs would win.

Unfortunately, by end of the fourth inning, the Cubs were already in trouble. The Reds had started off strong, scoring three runs in the early innings; but the Cubs hadn't scored at all. And with each opposing player who had crossed the plate, Joseph's spirits had fallen just a little. During the fifth and sixth innings, Joseph was visibly nervous. In the seventh inning, Joseph's spirits lifted when the Cubs scored two runs. They were still losing, but things were looking better. The highlight of the game - and its turning point - came in the eighth inning. The Cubs had two men on base; the fans were on their feet, and Joseph was nearly crawling out of his skin with excitement. When the next batter hit a home run, driving in three runs and putting the Cubs in the lead, Phyllis found herself caught up in the frenzy and nearly as elated as Joseph. Amidst all the screaming, jumping up and down, and fist pumping, he leaned in to hug her in celebration, and when he did, she took his face in her hands and kissed him firmly and squarely on the lips. He was stunned and didn't respond, but when she drew away, his face melted into a silly grin that assured her he was pleased by the gesture. The Reds didn't score in the last inning, and the Cubs cinched the win.

As Phyllis and Joseph made their way out of the ball park with throngs of other fans, he turned to her to say, "Phyllis … I know it's late and it's a school night, but will you have a drink with me? I'm having a marvelous time, and I'm not quite ready for the night to end."

"I'd love to, but look at all these people. I'm guessing most of them will be going out to celebrate, too," she conjectured. "Do you think we'll get anywhere near a tavern around here?"

"Not around here, no. This area can be quite rowdy after a game. The streets, sidewalks, and trains will be teeming with drunken revelers, so it's best to get out of here quickly. I've arranged for Tom Branson to meet us with the school car and to drive us back to Downton, but I'll just ask him to take us somewhere else instead. I think I know a good place."

"All right, then," she agreed happily.

They met Tom and the car at a prearranged spot about two blocks away, where it was much less crowded. At Joseph's request, Tom drove the couple to The Barrelhouse Flat, a cocktail lounge in a nice neighborhood not too far from Downton. He offered to wait or to come back for them, but Joseph suggested they could walk home afterward, as long as Phyllis didn't mind. She didn't mind at all; in fact, she looked forward to it. It was late and chilly, but it was a short enough walk back to campus, and it would mean spending more time alone with Joseph. So the pair thanked Tom, bade him good night, and went inside.

After settling into a table for two and ordering their drinks, they chatted pleasantly about everything and nothing. Joseph was jovial – his team having just won – and Phyllis found herself in high spirits, too, for his joy was infectious. They had two drinks each and drew them out as long as they reasonably could, but after a time, Joseph's watch told them it was time to leave. He paid the tab, and they departed.

As they walked, Phyllis reached for Joseph's hand, which was much warmer than her own.

"Goodness, Phyllis! Your hand is freezing!" he exclaimed.

He released her hand and stopped walking to remove his sport coat. She protested when he draped it around her shoulders, but he insisted. They walked the rest of the way with his jacket and his arm wrapped around her, keeping her warm and safe. Too soon for her liking, they reached her front door.

"So when is the next home game?" she asked expectantly.

"Wednesday. Why? Would you like to go?" He seemed surprised.

"I would, yes."

"Have I made you a Cubs fan with just one game?"

"Perhaps I just enjoy spending time you. Why do you seem so reluctant to believe that I simply enjoy your company?" she wanted to know.

"It's just that no one's ever liked me that much before," he admitted shyly.

"Well, I do," she assured him, smiling but looking into his eyes solemnly.

He met her gaze and moved a bit closer. "Phyllis … Would you mind terribly if … ? May I … ? Would it be all right … ?"

She nodded yes, and he leaned in and kissed her, holding her gently by her hips. She rested her hands on his shoulders and lost herself to him. No man had ever kissed her like this before, so tenderly, so selflessly, so … earnestly. She realized that Joseph Molesley's foremost virtue was expressed in his kiss. He was sincere, genuine, transparent … He was true, and she felt honored to have won his heart. And there was no mistaking the fact that he was offering her his heart. He hadn't said so in words, but she was certain nevertheless.

The kiss drew to its natural conclusion, but they remained in each other's embrace.

"That was nice," she breathed.

"It was," he agreed.

"I've had a lovely time tonight, Joseph. Thank you."

"It's been the best night of my life, I think."

"But the best part may be the promise of even better things to come," she said, and she stretched up to kiss him again.

They said their good nights, arranging to see each other at school in the morning. She slid his coat off her shoulders and returned it to him, and then she went inside. Through her front window, she watched him walk off. Noting fondly that he wandered off absentmindedly in the opposite direction from his flat, she fell just a little bit more in love with him.

A/N As with my entire Downton Academy series, all of the places and things mentioned (Balena, the "L," the Red Line, the Addison Street station, the Chicago Cubs, the Cincinnati Reds, Wrigley Field, The Barrelhouse Flat … ) are real. The only exception is Downton Academy itself; obviously, the school does not exist. (How I wish it did!) The account of the game is based on the actual Cubs opening home game, played at Wrigley Field against the Cincinnati Reds on Monday night, April 11th. It really happened that way.

I hope the Baxley shippers out there have enjoyed my first attempt at writing them, and I hope my regular readers have enjoyed this little detour into Baxley-land. We now return to our regularly scheduled Chelsie.