Yes, yes I know I said it was a one shot, but a reviewer mentioned wanting to see the game so I said what the heck, I'll give it a shot and here it is. Enjoy.
"Are you sure they won't mind?" Emily asked for the second time as she and Derek drove to the sports park.
"Positive," he repeated, briefly looking away from the road to grin at her.
"But I'm joining the team in mid season," she protested as she unconsciously kneaded the black and gray softball glove with orange laces in her lap.
"We're one man down. Miller threw out his back and is finished for the year. If we don't get a replacement we'll have to forfeit the rest of our games," he explained.
"Can't let that happen," she concurred with a nod.
After she had told him to sign her up, Emily had run to Geiger's sporting goods store to pick up a softball glove and bat. Her regular glove wouldn't work since it had been broken in to catch a baseball. On her next day off she went to the local batting cage to get used to hitting a softball. Baseballs and fast pitch softballs came at you swiftly and hard while a slow pitch ball had a nice arch to it. Emily whiffed many a ball before she finally got the timing down and was hitting them out of the park. She even played catch with Russ to get the feeling of throwing a softball. She knew she had it down when the teenager had stood there shaking his stinging hand and grumbling that the next time he was going to use a catcher's mitt because it had a heck of a lot more padding.
"Nope. Otherwise we'll never hear the end of it from the Secret Service guys."
"Is that who we are playing today?" she asked as they pulled into a parking space.
"Yup." Derek reached into the backseat, retrieved the extra ball cap and shoved it on her head, pulling the bill down over her eyes. "You look great," he said with a grin.
"Rigghhtt," she drawled, taking the hat off and resettling it on her head with her ponytail tucked through the opening in the back. "Now lets go kick some Secret Service butt."
As they made their way over to the field, Emily used that time to observe the team that was gathered around first base. Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed Derek's arm, yanking him to a halt.
"I thought you said this was a co-ed team," she asked in a low voice.
"It is," he answered with a puzzled frown.
"Then where are the rest of the women? All I see are men."
Derek ran a sheepish hand over his chin. "Well…we couldn't find any who wanted to play," he confessed.
Emily crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow. "So I'm the token girl?"
"Yeah. So it would seem."
"Wonderful," she grumbled, resisting the urge to bean him with the softball bat. It was just how she wanted to spend the afternoon surrounded by over inflated egos and testosterone. Wait…she did that every day at work.
"It will be fine, Partner. You'll see." He took her gently by the arm. "C'mon. I'll introduce you to the guys. They're a great bunch."
Derek steered her over to the group of men. "Guys," he said with a big grin. "This here is Emily Prentiss and she's taking Miller's place." He then proceeded to introduce the rest of the softball team.
One of the agents by the name of McHale looked Emily over from top to bottom, taking special notice of the brand new glove and bat. Another rookie, he mentally sighed.
"Does she know how to play?" he asked, directing the question to Derek.
Emily bristled at the snub. "I'm right here," she said in an irked voice, "and yes. I know how to play."
He looked her over again and nodded. "You can play catcher and Jamison can move to center field.
Derek didn't like that one bit. Being behind the plate was a waste of Emily's talent. Normally the less experience players played catcher and right field. But she was far from inexperienced. He had no doubt that she could run circles around most of the guys here. She was that good in his humble opinion.
"I think Prentiss should play center field," he stated firmly.
"Why?"
He glanced sideways at his best friend and partner. "You're just going to have to trust me on this, guys. You won't be disappointed."
McHale stared at him then shrugged. "Fine," he conceded. "Prentiss you'll be in center field and Jamison catcher." Jamison actually looked relieved to staying put. He really didn't like the outfield, too much running.
"Works for me," Emily agreed, deciding not to rip McHale a new one…yet. She would have to see as the game progressed. If he continued to be obnoxious then she might 'accidentally' once throw the ball a little too low and a little too hard.
"Yup. It definitely works for me," she said quietly with a wicked grin as she headed for the dugout.
Derek correctly sensing the true meaning of her words discretely checked and adjusted his athletic cup.
The winner of the coin toss was the Secret Service and they opted to be the home team so the Bureau would bat first. And it was a quick at bat for them, three batters up and three batters down. Emily slotted in to the fifth batting position would have to wait for second inning to a take a swing at the ball. As she slipped on her glove and trotted out to center field, she tried to calm the butterflies flirting about in her stomach. She hadn't felt this nervous since the day she walked into Hotch's office for the very first time. All she wanted to do was to play as best as she could and not let Derek down.
The first batter up was aggressive and went after the first ball, sending the ball over the shortstop Derek's head for a single. The second batter swung at the first two pitches before sending a high fly to center field. Emily started forward then realized she had misjudged the angle of the ball. As she ran back and to her left, she chastised herself for not taking any fielding practice to get the feel of the softball coming off the bat.
"Stupid. Stupid. Stupid," she muttered.
The ball dropped and Emily knew she wasn't going to catch up to it so she did the only thing she could think of. She dove for it and prayed she would make it. Her glove wrapped around the ball seconds before her body slammed into the turf in a full stretch. Then in one fluid motion Emily leapt to her feet, pivoted and sent the ball screaming to first base.
"Fuck!" McHale and the base runner swore at the same time.
McHale cursed because his catching hand was now numb and the base runner because he had strayed too far from first base and had gotten thrown out. He had thought for sure that she wouldn't get under the ball in time so he had kept running. By the time he realized his mistake he couldn't get safely back to the base. The next batter struck out, ending the inning.
"That was a sweet play, Partner," Derek said in admiration as they headed off the field.
"Thanks," Emily replied, brushing at the grass stain on her shirtfront. "I didn't think I was going to make it back in time."
Inside the dugout her new teammates congratulated her on her awesome catch. Even McHale nodded his appreciation as he continued to massage his left hand. The feeling was slowly returning to the limb. Emily took all the compliments graciously, exchanging high fives and fist bumps with several of them. Then she grabbed her bat and started to take a couple of practice swings since she was batting second.
In between swings Derek sidled up to her and whispered, "Hit it out of the park, Prentiss."
Emily turned to him and scolded him lightly. "It's not polite to hit a homerun the first time you are up to bat. Makes it look like you are showing off."
His eyebrows went up. "You did it to me at the park."
"Yes I did because it was you," she pointed out. "Your ego could take it. These guys might not."
Derek chuckled. "Then get on base so I can drive you in." He was batting immediately after her.
"I can do that," she agreed with a smile as the batter in front of her fouled out to the first baseman.
Emily took a deep breath and headed for the plate. At the last minute she decided to bat left handed and settled into the appropriate box. Before she even had a chance to get the bat off her shoulder, the pitcher turned to the outfield.
"Leftie!" he shouted and she watched everyone shift toward the right side of the field.
She shrugged, dug in and locked her eyes on the pitcher's hand. Emily took the first two pitches, one for a ball and one for a strike, to see how the pitcher threw the softball. Feeling comfortable she watched the ball leave his hand, tightened her grip on the bat and swung at the very last minute. The softball went streaking down the third base line. Emily made it into second standing up to the cheers of her teammates and the frown of the pitcher. Derek grinned at her as he stepped into the batter's box.
Emily clapped and shouted, "Bring me home, Morgan!"
He nodded and got ready for the first pitch. Emily started to take a lead off, but luckily remembered before she had both feet off the base that in softball you had to stay in contact with the base until the ball was hit. Derek swung at the fourth pitch. As soon as she realized the ball was going to drop in front of the right fielder, Emily took off like her pants were on fire. She easily rounded third and raced for home. Behind her, she could hear members of the other team shouting for the ball to be thrown home. Emily easily scored the first run of the game. When she entered the dugout she was again greeted with high fives and fist bumps.
Emily's second at bat was almost an exact repeat of her first time. Someone yelled leftie and they all shifted to the right. Again she swung late and sent the ball flying down the third base line. The throw to second was tighter than the first time, forcing Emily to slide in safely. All business, she popped to her feet and dusted off her pants. Derek and the next batter both walked, loading the bases. Two batters later, an agent by the name of Aviles dropped the ball behind the left fielder, driving in Emily and Derek.
On her third and final time up, the other team wised up and didn't shift since she had burned them the first two times and they weren't going to let that happen again. That strategy didn't bother Emily one bit. She jumped on the first pitch, swinging early and sent the ball to the fence in right field allowing her to cruise into third with a triple. A ball hit beneath the glove of the shortstop had her trotting home, scoring her third run of the game.
By the bottom of the sixth inning the Bureau was leading 8 to 6, but the Secret Service was threatening to tie or take the lead. They had runners on first and second, two outs and their best hitter was at the plate. With a mighty swing he sent the ball in Emily's direction. She locked eyes on it and immediately began to back up at a run. So focused on the softball she was unaware of how close she was getting to the low chain link fence that counted as the home run fence.
The ball hit her glove at the same time her back hit the top of the fence. Her momentum flipped her over it. Everyone on the field and in the dugout held their collective breaths waiting for the call. Emily's gloved hand shot into the air, the softball securely nestled in it. Her team cheered while the other groaned in dismay. Acting like her home run stealing catch was nothing, Emily nimbly hopped back over the fence and headed for the dugout.
The Bureau tacked on three more runs in the top of the seventh inning and ended up winning the game 11 to 6. It was their first victory over the Secret Service in four years.
Still on their all time high, the team adjourned to the nearest bar to continue celebrating their victory over their dreaded enemy. They unanimously voted Emily the most valuable player and that meant all the drinks were on her. She took it stride and opened a tab. Her teammates all assured her that they wouldn't run it up to an obscene amount. It would be just high enough that a week's salary would easily cover it.
Emily was perched on a barstool at the end of the bar watching the celebration when McHale sidled up to her. "You got a hell of an arm there, Prentiss," he said in grudging admiration.
"Thanks," she said and took a sip of her beer.
He looked down at his fingers and flexed them. "They're still tingling."
"Sorry about that." No she wasn't.
"So have you always played softball because you're good at it?"
"No actually," Emily answered as she set her bottle down and grabbed a handful of peanuts from the bowl next to her elbow. She popped a few into her mouth. "I played a little baseball when I was a kid."
"Ah," he said in surprise, polishing off his beer and signaling the bartender for another. "Grew up in a neighborhood full of boys?"
"You can say that," she answered vaguely, having no intention of discussing her childhood with a complete stranger.
He nodded and scooped up his fresh beer. "Anyway you played a hell of a game. Welcome to the team, Prentiss."
"Thank you," she responded as he clinked bottles with her.
"See you next week." McHale looked around the bar with bleary eyes. "Jamison," he called out. "We need to talk."
Emily watched him walk away on not too steady feet and made a mental note to make sure to pour him into a cab if she was still here when he decided to leave.
"What are you thinking?" Derek asked, sliding on to the barstool that McHale had just vacated.
She turned to him with a grin. "That McHale is drunk off his ass already."
Derek chuckled. "Doesn't take him long. He wants to make the most out of it since we haven't had much to celebrate this season."
"Glad I could make him deliriously drunk for a change," she laughed.
The two sat in companionable silence sipping their beers as they watched the rest of the softball team celebrate. "Did you have fun today?" he eventually asked.
"I did. I had a ball," she answered, grinning at her own pun. "Thanks for asking me to play."
"No problem, Partner. You going to stick around for the rest of the season?"
"Oh absolutely. I can't leave you guys down a player and I haven't hit a home run yet. I want to hear McHale's jaw hit the ground when I do."
He shook his head in amusement and raised his beer bottle. "To home runs," he toasted.
"To home runs," she repeated.
Derek and Emily clinked their bottles together, down their contents, slammed the empties on the bar and shouted in unison, "Barkeep! Two more."
"…And it looked like she wasn't going to make it. Then she dove for it, getting her glove between the ground and the ball. It was a sweet catch," Derek said with an appreciative whistle.
"What was sweet?" Emily asked, dropping her briefcase on her desk.
Before she had entered, Derek was sitting on the edge of Reid's desk regaling him and JJ about the weekend softball game.
"The catch you made," Reid said.
"Which one?" she asked in curiosity. "The home run stealing catch or the one I badly misjudged and barely caught?"
"The second one," he said. "Did it hurt?"
Emily arched an eyebrow as she pulled out her chair. "Did it hurt when I intentionally threw my body on the ground?" Reid nodded. "Yes, it did."
"Oh! I forgot to mention she immediately bounced to her feet and threw out the runner who was trying to get back to first," Derek added.
"So that's why you have a glove in your closet," JJ exclaimed, remembering back to when the brunette had broken her ankle and had come across her digging through closet looking for the glove. "You played softball as a kid."
"Yeah," Emily agreed to agree and shot Derek a look telling him that she didn't want him to mention her prowess in baseball. She wanted to keep it private and just between the two of them.
Derek nodded that he understood. "The team named her the most valuable player of the game."
Reid's eyes brightened and leaned forward eagerly. "Did you get some kind of trophy? I always wanted to win an athletic trophy," he added wistfully.
"What I got was a huge bar bill," Emily said as she took off her blazer and dropped it over the back of the chair.
"Huh?"
Derek chuckled at the confused look on the young genius' face. "The MVP foots the bill for the after the game drinks."
"Oh," he said in disappointment. "That doesn't sound like a much of a fun award."
"I didn't mind."
Emily started to sit down, but froze when Derek wagged a finger at her. "Uh uh uh. No sitting. I've got something to show you in my office."
She exchanged looks with JJ and Reid who were working hard to suppress their chuckles. "Okaay," she drawled uncertainly and straightened. "Lead away."
The two friends adjourned to his office and settled in the chairs around the desks. "So what do you want to show me?" she asked, breaking the ice.
"This!" he said with a grin and whipped out a tee shirt. It was navy blue with light gray sleeves and had 'FBI' across the front in the same gray. "It's your official team shirt."
"Cool," Emily breathed, feeling honored that she was now an official member of the team.
Just as she went to take it, Derek jerked it back out of her of her reach. "Not so fast, Miss Greedy Fingers. I've got more to show you."
"You're going to make this into a big production number, aren't you?" she asked with a sigh and sat back in her chair in resignation.
"You bet I am." He flipped the shirt over and folded it so that only the number showed. "I picked twelve for your number since it was your birthday."
"That was thoughtful of you, Derek. Can I have my shirt now?"
"Not yet. We haven't gotten to the piece de resistance yet," he lightly scolded her.
Emily sighed and rested her chin in the palm of one hand. "I got a feeling I'm not going to like this, but do go on," she said with a wave of her other hand.
"Thank you for not spoiling my fun. Everyone on the team gets a nickname based on his or her play," he explained.
"I'm definitely not going to like this," she muttered under her breath. Derek was known for his out there nicknames.
Derek leaned back in his chair, eyes dancing mischievously. "At first I thought 'Twinkle Toes' because you are so nimble out in the field."
"Oh, god!" Emily groaned, trying to picture herself wearing a shirt with that on the back. She shuddered.
"But that didn't feel right," he continued gleefully, ignoring the pained expression on her face. "Then I thought of 'Miss Sweet Thang' for your two sweet catches."
"That one is even worse than the first."
"Then I went nah because I knew you would rip me a new one if I ever called you or let anyone call you that in public."
"Damn right I would!" Emily vowed.
"So I came up with this instead." Derek proudly held up the shirt so she could see her official softball nickname.
Emily leaned forward and squinted at the words. "Triple Threat?" she asked and looked at him in confusion.
"Uh huh," he agreed with a delighted nod. "You're a triple threat. You can hit balls out of the park, play the field like a pro and you have one hell of an arm. You like?"
This time he didn't stop Emily from taking the shirt. She ran her fingers over the gray lettering. "I do," she responded with a smile. "Thank you. I will wear in proudly."
"That works for me."
As Emily stood up to head back to the bullpen and her desk, she pointed a warning finger at Derek. "I don't want to hear you calling me Triple Threat outside of softball. If I do, expect a line drive coming your way at batting practice. And I won't be aiming for your head."
Derek shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "You have my word," he swore, holding up a hand, "that your nickname will never pass my lips except on the ball field. Scouts honor."
Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. "Were you even a Boy Scout?" she asked dubiously.
"Yes, I was," he answered, looking affronted. "I looked damn handsome in my shorts, long socks, badge sash and neckerchief."
The team arrived back in DC in plenty of time for Derek and Emily to make Sunday's game against the U.S. Marshals. Within the dugout the player's confidence levels were at an all time high. The Marshals were another team they rarely bet, but with Emily on their side, there was a good chance that they could come out on top and have a two game winning streak, the first one in two years. Normally they excelled at losing streaks.
Emily and Derek were warming up by tossing the softball back and forth when he suddenly grinned and waved. Emily turned around to see the rest of the team with various significant others and children piling into the bleachers.
Feeling extremely self-conscious she hissed, "What are they doing here? Did you invite them?"
He frowned in confusion. "No. JJ or Reid probably mentioned it to Garcia and she told everyone she knew. What's the big deal?"
She dug her toe of her shoe in the dirt. "I just never had people in the stands I knew were there for me."
His confusion deepened. "I don't get it."
Emily blew out a breath of frustration. How could she explain it to Derek in a way he would understand? "People in the audience were always other people's families, not mine. I would show up and do my thing while my parents were off doing theirs. I never had someone show up specifically to see me."
Seeing her embarrassed look, Derek trotted over to her and put a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Hey, don't do that. Maybe you never had that as a kid, but you do now." He pointed to the team. "They are our family and they're here for us."
"Great," she said, her self-consciousness growing stronger.
He squeezed her shoulder. "It is great. You know why?" She shook her head. "We have people who care enough to show up. It doesn't matter if we whoop their asses or they whoop ours. They're here to cheer us on, and maybe rib us a little if we stink to high heaven." He grinned. "But that's what a real family does. And we'll make them pick up the bar tab if they do."
"They better," Emily agreed with a snort.
"Alright, so you good? No need to be nervous."
"Yeah. I'm good."
"Okay, Twinkle Toes, let's get out there and do this."
"I thought I told you never to call me that," she warned, shooting him a glare.
Derek held his glove over his heart with an innocent look. "I don't know what you are talking about. I called you Triple Threat."
Emily refrained from rolling her eyes and swatted his hand off her shoulder. "Whatever you say, Morgan."
He chuckled as he watched her trot out to center field. He knew his friend would be all right once she got involved in the game and forgot all about being watched.
This week the Bureau was the home team so they got to bat second. The Marshals managed to get their first batter on base, but the next three struck out ending the top of the inning. Again Emily was batting fifth and stood at the far end of the dugout, bat in hand in case she actually got a chance to bat in the first, intently watching how the pitcher tossed the ball. The first two batter easily reached base. The third was out because of the infield fly rule and the fourth walked. When Emily settled into the left-handed batter's box for her at bat, the bases were loaded. She took the first two for strikes then swung at the third.
CRACK!
Silence descended over the ball field and the bleachers as everyone watched the path of the softball as it soared through the air. A roar went up when it landed ten feet beyond the home run fence.
GRAND SLAM!
Emily kept her eyes modestly on the ground as she trotted around the bases to the chants of 'Triple Threat' from her teammates. As she neared third base she risked a glance at the bleachers. Her friends, her family was on their feet clapping and shouting. Jack and Henry were jumping up and in their excitement. Her face split into a grin. They were cheering for her like Derek had said they would and it felt wonderful. Still riding the high when she touched home, she exchanged exuberant high fives with the three guys she had driven in then adjourned to the dugout for more congratulatory back slaps and fist bumps.
The game ended up being a rout with the Bureau winning by a score of twelve to zero. But Emily didn't remember the game or her grand slam. What she did remember and cherish was the team standing in the bleachers cheering her and Derek on and the celebratory meal of greasy hamburgers at a kid friendly restaurant with them. She had a family of caring and unique people and that was all that mattered to her.
I hope all enjoyed it. I had fun writing it especially the scene when Emily was up to bat because that happened to me in a game. As of right now I'm pretty sure there won't be another chapter and it will remain a two shot.