Disclaimer: Chris Carter and the gang have redeemed themselves with the new season, I am happy to say that these two are in the possession of Ten Thirteen. But don't we all like getting off on "borrowing" them for a while? :-)
Rating: This chapter is PG-13ish. Will be NC-17 later.
Spoilers: Post-Milagro/The Unnatural.
Author's Notes: Mulder, Scully and baseball. My great loves, come together. Season 10, I'mma let you finish, but Season 6 is one of the best seasons of ALL TIME.
Feedback? "I'm hungry." *like Mrs. Peacock*
"Shut up, Mulder. I'm playing baseball."
We whack the ball together a while before he asks, into my ear, "Want to try a few on your own?" We whack another one.
"Sure…mmm," I mumble, disappointed where that one went.
He let's go of the bat, running his right hand up the length of my arm and standing straight, squeezing my upper arm. "Hold up, Poor Boy!" He runs his hand over my shoulders as he leaves home plate towards the mound, his long strides closing the distance quickly, taking his wallet out of his back pocket as he goes.
After Mulder hands him some money and tells him to run along home, the boy runs off smiling. "Thanks, Mister!"
"Put that money in your pocket!" The kids stops in his tracks, carefully folding the money and putting it deep in his pocket. Mulder shakes his head, smiling a little, watching the boy run out of the field.
"All right, Scully, are you ready?" He picks up a glove, tucks it under his arm and moves the machine aside. He looks excited.
"Ready as I'll ever be," I say, trying not to smile too much at his eagerness. He lines up and I raise the bat, looking down at my toes. "Right here?"
He shakes his head and jogs toward me, standing up behind me again. He places a hand on my shoulder, and I look at him over my other one. "Face forward," he says, and holds me still with that hand on my shoulder. I feel his tennis shoe on the inside of my boot, pushing my left foot out and spreading my legs wider. I make a face, not altogether loving this. I feel my legs are spread too wide. I try to bring my foot back in a little and he stops it with his. "No, see?" He moves in behind me and takes the bat again, slowly guiding me to turn into a swing. His voice rumbles into my ear, that voice he uses only when we are so close together. It's like his voice lowers in octaves the more quietly he talks. I liken it to thunder reverberating through the clouds during a quiet, distant thunderstorm in the night. "This way, you have room to turn." He pulls the bat back and guides us into another slow swing, feeling his breath through my hair, on my ear. I'm distracted as he guides me through this swing, licking my lips. "Ah, Scully, don't make me remind you again. Hips before hands…" his hand is over my hip bone again. "Ok? Now, one more thing. As you turn, use this foot to turn yourself into the swing." He lightly kicks the inside of my right foot.
"Ok," my voice doesn't come out clearly. I clear my throat. "Yeah."
"All right, sport, let's see what you got." He pats my shoulder as he walks off. I am eternally grateful he didn't pat my ass. I watch him walk away from me again, watching the lean muscles in his back and shoulders under that jersey. He bends to pick up that glove where he dropped it by the mound and I turn away from home, dropping the bat, pulling my jacket off. I so just checked out his ass and I need a moment to will the flush from my cheeks. I walk to one of the dugouts and lay my new suede jacket over one of the benches. When I return, he's putting a sunflower seed between his teeth, waiting patiently. I pick up the bat and stand like he showed me.
He stands there with the ball in his glove. He spits out the shell of that seed and looks to the bases, I assume out of habit. He nods and slowly lifts his left leg into himself, places it back down after taking a step forward, then pitches the ball at me. Of course I've seen someone pitch a baseball before but I'm caught off guard by the sight of Mulder's lean arms and legs moving in ways I've never seen them move. I manage to remember to swing but I am a mile off, completely distracted. "Scully! You're not even trying! It was right down the middle."
"You're just…you were slower than the machine!" I clear my throat, ready to concentrate a little more I think.
He gives me a skeptical look and I can see the smirk in his lips all the way from here. "Keep your eye on the ball, Scully." He picks up another ball and pitches again. I swing awkwardly, but for the most part like he showed me. It rolls on the ground, right up to his feet. "You're out, Scully." He scoops up the ball and throws it at an invisible player on first base, all but showing off now.
I give him a warning glare and he responds with a big smile. Challenging me with his gaze. He picks up another ball and pitches it. It sinks right before it gets to me and I swing right over the top of it. "Mulder!" I'm frustrated but laugh at his reaction, making a fist and pumping it a little.
"Damn, I'm good."
"Ha, ha." I'm trying not to smile widely, though. "Come on, Mulder."
He pitches me another one and I hit it to the right of him, towards third base. He trots off to retrieve it, yelling at me over his shoulder. "Ok, not bad." He sees me take off out of the corner of his eye. "Oh no, you don't! He hustles the rest of the way to the ball, picks it up in his glove and we are in a race for first base. I'm laughing, feeling exhilarated at this turn of events. I round first base and he changes his direction, just running towards me now rather than second base. Getting ready to tag me. When he is about to, I dart off towards the outfield. He lets out a sharp "ha!" and quickly makes it around in front of me. I dart off again, managing to skirt past him when he sticks out his glove. I'm running as fast as I can for second before he picks me up from behind. I'm laughing and struggling, trying to get out of his arms.
"Give it up, Scully. You're out!" He's laughing a little too. One of his arms is holding me around my ribcage and I feel a jolt of dull pain, reminded briefly of a cold hand searching for my heart, but I push the thought away. I manage to get my feet on the ground and turn swiftly in his arms, but we lose our balance and he's falling on top of me. He breaks his fall, saving himself from landing on top of me with a grunt. I break my fall with my left hand behind me. My right arm had gone up and hooked around his neck, instinctively grabbing for something to save my fall. He lands over me, straddling my hips, his hands on both sides of my head. I'm laughing harder than I have in years, but trying to stop now. I look up at him and the smile on his face and the look in his eyes calm me, but I'm still giggling some. "Has anyone ever told you you laugh like a child, Scully?"
"Mulder, that's sweet," I say, giggling through my sarcasm.
"Yeah, you do. Like a manic, spastic child."
I try to look offended, drawing in a sharp breath, but the smile on his face just makes me laugh harder still. I draw in a quick breath, that pain in that one spot on my ribs sending out a little spasm. It's gone as soon as it hits, but the look on Mulder's face changes instantly. Just then, the lights over the ball park go out one by one, switching off with loud noises. I tilt my head back, look at the last set of lights before they go out. When I look back at him, it takes a moment for our eyes to adjust, and I see his worry again.
Suddenly, I smell his cologne. I know it's new. I've gotten so used to all of his regular cologne, if he wears them at all, I don't even smell them anymore. But this is his first new smell in years and I immediately love it. It is musky and…smells like pine and maybe citrus. I am having trouble putting my fingers on exactly what I smell, but it blends with his natural scent, his body chemistry perfectly. I breathe it right into my nose and feel the sensation it gives me flush my cheeks, make my head fuzzy, and reach all the way down past my stomach. Fortunately, he doesn't seem to notice my reaction. He moves his fingers to my neck, to my pulse point.
In the past several weeks since the incident in his apartment, a few times he's reached for my wrist, feeling my heart beat at my pulse point there.
I am still catching my breath from laughing, and the affect of his cologne. "You've got to stop that, Mulder. I'm fine, I'm here."
"I know." He looks assertive at my doubtful look. "I know! It's just…" He sighs and lifts his head a little, looking like he's about to lift off of me. Without thought, I reach out and grab the back of his neck, making him look at me again.
"Just…?" He settles back over me with his elbow above my shoulder.
I can see his face more clearly now, by the lights from the walking paths around the ball park, but we are mostly in darkness. "I don't like being reminded of him..." His dark eyes blink a few times, holding my eyes. "Was he right, Scully?" It's the second time he's asked me that. I turn my whole head away from his face, my tongue darting out to my upper lip, eyes wide. He sighs and slumps over me, his forehead nearly touching the side of mine. "That son of a bitch. He was so wrong about so many things. I KNOW that. But I think he was right about some things. He must have been."
I look at him incredulously at his assumption. "Mul-"
He doesn't even hear me in his ramblings. "But I don't know, because he had it so wrong." He's not making any sense. When I ask him to clarify with my eyes, curious and afraid at the same time, he says. "I see you, Scully…"
He trails off and I'm still confused. "Wha-?"
My eyes widen as he quotes Padgett's book. "'His words had presented her a pretty picture of herself, quite unlike the practiced mask of uprightness that mirrored back to her from the medical examiners and the investigators and all the lawmen who dared no such utterances.'" He looks deep into my eyes. "'the investigators and all the lawmen'…He meant me, too, Scully. But he was so wrong! I just hope you know that. I. See. You."
I am breathing quickly. I see that look in his eyes, he wants to kiss me. I shake my head no, pushing him up with my hands on his chest. That look and the smell of his cologne were about to be my undoing. "I gotta go." I scoot out from under him, put my feet underneath me and nearly launch into a quick pace toward the exit, not looking back. I only think to grab my jacket when I feel a chill after being under his warmth. I make it to my car and peel out of there, following my gut instinct. Flight. Leave. No. Don't let him in. The near kiss in his hallway, a desperate move in a desperate moment. This is the same thing, he was still reeling from Padgett, the Stranger. It will all be different in the morning.
Author's Notes: One more chapter!