Title: The Natural (1/1) Author: RocketMan >lebontrager@iname.com< Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully belong to CC, 1013, and Fox. No fringe is intended. The title is Robert Redford's, and no fringe is intended there either. SPOILER:::: up to and including The UnNatural **** NOTE **** I'm not sure how many people caught this, but DD's title for this ep comes from this movie, The Natural, with Robert Redford. It's about a baseball player in the 30's who starts out as a rookie, but 34 years old, the age when most retire. It takes him 16 years to get there, but he's not giving up his dreams. (I think this could apply quite nicely to M&S relationship...) **** ~~~~ The Natural ~~~~ "You're a natural. . ." She grinned and followed through, watching the dinghy white ball bounce over the green infield and roll through the red dirt. "Right," she said, shaking her head. "I have no power." "Doesn't matter. You got me," he replied, wiggling his eyebrows in a move she couldn't see. His arms loosened around her so she could have a broader range of motion, then they swung again as one, looping the ball far to the left and dropping it just over third base. "That was a good one." If it'd been anyone else, she'd have said, 'Let me do it myself', but this was Mulder and his chest fit right into her back and hips like a molded couch. "So what made you suddenly--" She grunted as they swung again, spinning around with the force of that one, her body crashing into his as Mulder tried to catch her. She steadied herself and perched the bat against her shoulder, waiting, then swung as the ball hurtled toward them. "What made you suddenly decide to play baseball?" She could feel him shrug, and she liked the movement against her, and the warmth, and her body snuggled in tighter. She felt Mulder's arms tighten around her again, and she smiled. "Baseball. . .I heard this great story, Scully." "Oh?" They cracked it this time, the ball peaked high in the air and went straight up, up, up, like a plane climbing the sky, but then it started down again and Mulder traced its path with his eyes before it could land. "Heads up!" he yelled. The boy jerked a look to the night sky and scrambled for cover just as the ball made its landing pad in the dirt, right where the kid had been. Mulder chuckled and backed away from Scully, moving towards the kid and reaching for his wallet. The boy shut off the pitching machine and met him halfway, the scene reminding Scully of the times when the coach would come to the pitcher and give him tips. . .or throw him out of the game. "Thanks kid. Here's your money. Go on home." The boy snatched the bills and leaped for the baseball fence, calling a muffled thanks over his shoulder as he bolted for home. Mulder turned back and saw Scully standing there, a frown on her face, looking confused and disappointed. He thumbed the pitching machine back on, then jogged for home plate. He heard the whirring of the arm as it shovelled up a ball to lob, and he motioned for Scully to get out of the way. "Back up!" he yelled, as he felt the ball slide past him on a cushion of air. Snatching Scully around the waist, he yanked her back and into him, away from the white lightning steaking past. She shivered in his arms for a minute, then glanced back at him. "You turned it back on." "Yeah, we can hit the last of the balls in there, then go pick them all up. . ." They raised the bat, then stepped up to the plate, watching the machine as it loaded another baseball. "Why don't you tell me that story, Mulder?" He thought for a moment, then they swung together. "Foul," she whispered. "Okay. You remember those newspapers?" ~~~~ Ah. There it was. Mulder snatched the ball from the grass' weedy grip, then handed it to Scully. "Baseball is just about the only sport that everyone can play. You don't have to be good to have fun, and you've always got that hope." She turned her head to look at him, her hair golden looking in the right field lights, about five balls in a little pouch she'd made from her suit jacket. He wanted to laugh, but he tossed another ball into the pile. "What do you mean, always have hope?" she said. Licking his dry lips, Mulder sat down on the outfield lawn, smelling the grass and dirt, the sweat sheening his body, the bugs in the air. "Whenever you play baseball, there's always the chance that you could be the hero, you could be great. It's not luck, not really, but sometimes, the ball connects just right with the bat, or sometimes, the glove forms a deep pocket and you get that last out. It's those moments that make baseball so enduring, so exciting and inspirational." "You think he *was* an alien, that Mr. Dales was telling the truth?" Mulder shrugged. "I don't know," he said honestly, watching Scully sit down beside him. "But I like the story," he added finally. She nodded. "He wanted to be one of us, wanted to fit in somewhere." she whispered. "He wanted to play baseball," Mulder said, biting his lower lip. "He was a good player. . ." Mulder shook his head. "That's just what I mean, Scully. You don't have to be a good player to love baseball. Because something could always happen. It's that kind of hope that keeps people going. Today, you might pitch a Nolan Ryan, hammer out a Mark McGwire, or catch a Johnny Bench. You could be great, you could be the hero of the game, and you'd fit in, right at that moment, you would fit in." Scully's head dropped to her knees, the jacket filled with baseballs at her feet. "I don't know why I never played it before. . ." Mulder watched her, waiting for her words to continue. "I never really fit in at school, or at home. We were always moving, so I never stopped to make good friends. At home, there was always the oldest and the baby, or the bad one, or the football quarterback, or the piano player, or. . .whatever. I never had a thing. So I guess that's why I latched on to medicine. It was a thing. It made me Dana the scientist, the doctor." Mulder looked over at her, watching her eyes stare off at first base, awed at how blue they were in all the blackness of night. "Switching to the FBI made me stop trying to fit in, and start being myself. But, I think I would have liked baseball as a kid. I think I would have played it all the time." A small smile quirked her lips and Mulder felt like smiling too, but her eyes were still bright, still shining with the rarity of their moment. "Did you play a lot of baseball as a kid?" she asked, turning to see him. He'd been staring, she could tell. It danced from his eyes and drew his lips into a smile. "Yeah. A lot. But once I found how good I was at basketball, I played that everyday. I was good. I was better than most kids on that little island. It was the one thing my Dad couldn't make me feel inadequate about. Because I knew. I knew I was good." Scully felt her heart stop at the desparate loneliness in his voice. She slid closer and took his hand in hers, suddenly feeling the warm palm, the tingling of his blood through his veins. "You were always the hero," she said. Mulder felt the breeze ruffle through his hair and almost wished it was Scully's hand, gentle on his head. "Baseball still gives me hope, but with basketball, I have confidence." She was going to crumble, just shatter with his open honesty, with the words told in such candor and familiarity that she had no doubts about how much he trusted her. His hand quirked in hers and he glanced at her lips before stopping to peer into her eyes. She was close, close, and he could feel the heat of her rising into the air and pressing closer, her eyes like twin blue planets orbitting around his soul. "But with you, I have both. Hope and confidence. I'd never give that up." She was letting tears create a little silent stream down her cheeks, and he leaned in closer and pulled her right next to him. She watched his head lower and she was shocked into stillness. His mouth danced over hers for an instant too long, and she lifted up to meet him, ending the tease to taste him. Their lips parted and Mulder's heavy sigh skirted across her cheek as he rested his forehead against hers, her fingers weaving through the hair at the back of his neck. She'd pushed up into his lap, and now he cradled her closer, closing his eyes to savor the rightness of the touch. She choked on a laugh and stilled. "I think I love baseball." He smiled. "You should. You're a natural." ~~~~ end adios RM