A/N: dcub called this shot, so to speak.

Pop

It was a phenomenal day. So perfect in sunniness and warmth that Grace moaned for the eleventh time as she was pulled against her will into the unfunnest activity God ever saw fit to inflict on a football coach's daughter.

"But I hate baseball," she whined at Rigsby once again as he pointedly bought two tickets at the window and dragged her into the minor league stadium.

He tsked her like a disobedient child. "No you don't. How can such a red blooded American girl even say such a thing? What are you? A Communist?"

"Idiot," she snorted disdainfully. "Cubans kick ass in baseball. How Communist could they get?"

He waved off her argument and continued to pull her by the hand out into the glorious sunlight where he led them to their seats.

"How cool is this?" he beamed at her. "Primo seats between third base and home plate. We'll get to see everything!"

Grace snorted again as she readjusted the Sacramento River Cat ball cap he'd bought her. Her ponytail bounced happily out the back so cutely that Rigsby knew it had been worth her wrath to make her wear it.

"By everything, you mean the whole lot of nothing that goes on between the slightly less boring pitches and hits?" she asked tartly, sitting down in the molded plastic chair and huffing. There was no real annoyance in the sound, so Rigsby smiled indulgently.

He threw himself in the seat next to her and circled his arm around her shoulders. "This game is the most exciting thing ever," he corrected enthusiastically.

"Pssht," Grace bumped him with her arm. "Baseball is for fans that are too drunk to follow football."

Rigsby chuckled. It was his girlfriend's voice, but he heard a gruff and devout pigskin coach in the dismissive, intolerant words. He settled in more and pulled her closer. His blue eyes flashed brightly with excitement.

"C'mon. Give it a chance. We'll sit here, drink beer, wait for a pop fly, and root root root for the home team."

She rolled her eyes, but her smile destroyed the bored look she was going for. "A pop fly, huh?"

"Absolutely!" he shook her playfully. "I'm feeling it this game. I'm definitely, definitely feeling a pop fly heading our way."

She turned her head towards him and butted his forehead with her cap's bill. "Please," she laughed. "If a pop fly gets anywhere near us, I'll…" she looked upwards, desperately looking for a whale of a promise.

His eyes raised with interest. "You'll…?"

She leveled her eyes on his. Why not? It'll never happen anyway. "I'll propose to you in front of this whole stadium."

His expression just exploded with amusement. "You'll propose to me? Today? Here? In front of God and everybody?"

She gave him a crisp, lofty nod. "Of course not. Because there won't be a pop fly landing anywhere near us."

He shook his head in awe. "You shouldn't anger the baseball gods like that, baby. Now a snowball is going to land right in your lap just to teach you some respect."

"Ha!" she chortled. "I laugh in the face of your baseball gods and your snowball. Let them do their worst."

He held his hands up. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

They settled back and watched the opening pitch.

Rigsby bought them beer and peanuts.

Grace settled comfortably into his side, annoyed to notice that football had fans on their feet too often to enjoy such uninterrupted cuddling.

Rigsby pointed out players who were up and coming. Grace counter-pointed out that it was the minors and there was nowhere to go but up. She got a peanut shell on the nose for that one.

She was merciless. Every strike got a "Swing and a miss!" from her. Every successful hit got a "Meh."

But at the bottom of the fifth, a loud crack caught everyone's attention. The ball didn't fly out, as everyone expected, but up.

Up. Up. Up.

Into the sunshine. It blinded them all and the fans squinted hard, instinctively putting their hand up to block the sunshine and protect their heads.

Grace did as well, her eyes mere slits as she watched the tiny circle fly far into the sky, slowly arcing left from the plate as it began its descent from the ozone.

As it grew larger and larger, her eyes grew rounder and rounder.

No. Way.