Title - "First Base" Author - Becca O. E-Mail address - becca54@ix.netcom.com Rating - NC-17, just in case Category - MSR Spoilers - Season 6x20, "Shades of Grey" Keywords - Mulder/Scully Romance Summary - Pre-Episode epilogue?! This little piece of fluff was inspired by the spoilers for "Shades of Grey". I know the ep will never have anything like this in it, so I decided to write this *before* actually seeing it. Dedications: For Jennifer B. and the crew of MSR-SHIP. The final scene is for my favorite PLM. She knows why. As always, all characters belong lock, stock and barrel to CC, 1013 and FOX. I promise to return them when I'm finished playing, ok? All comments welcome, send to becca54@ix.netcom.com Archive anywhere, just drop me a note so I can visit! ******************* "First Base" by Becca O. "Baseball?" "No, *softball* to be more precise. Relax, Scully, it'll do you good to get out. You remember -- sunshine? spring breezes? fresh air?" "Vaguely." Scully grinned as her partner pointed the car in the direction of Founder's Park. "Mulder, what on earth possessed Skinner to sign us up for the Bureau softball team?" "Possessed? Skinner?! Sounds like an x-file to me. I hope he has a ringer up his sleeve, though, because it's been years since I played." "You and me both. I abhorred baseball as a kid. Now *tennis* ..." "Ooh, Scully, did you wear one of those cute little white dresses? The ones with the matching panties?" Laughing outright, Mulder swerved the car as Scully took a swing at him. "Get your mind out of the gutter, Mulder. Tennis is a very genteel game." "Only if you're watching from your balcony sipping a mint julep. Nah, baseball was my game; played Little League for years." "*Little League*? How cute! I bet you were quite spiffy in your little uniform. Got any pictures? "God, I hope not." Smiling at the distant memory, Mulder turned the car into parking lot, noting with satisfaction that they were the only ones there. Good. No one but Scully around to witness his lack of finesse. The spring sun was rapidly warming the air as Scully pulled her hair into a ponytail and plopped an FBI baseball cap on her head. "Did you bring the equipment?" "God, Scully, I LOVE it when you talk dirty. This is an entirely new side of you I'm seeing today." Judging by the look on her face, he knew he was pushing the boundaries of her patience. "The bats and balls are in the trunk. Grab the gloves out of the back seat, would ya?" Ten minutes later, warm-up stretches dispensed with, batting practice began in earnest. Neither was as bad as they remembered, but neither would they win any trophies for the team. "Jesus, Mulder, if we play this poorly next week we'll be moved completely out of the *building*, not to mention the basement." "You know, Scully, you're not that bad. Your stance just needs some work." "My *stance*? For crying all night- you hold the bat, watch the ball and swing the bat. If you're lucky, you hit the ball and run like hell without some gorilla from Special Forces squashing you like a bug between second and third base." "C'mon. Let's take ten and then I'll show you what you're doing wrong." ************ "No, no. You're too stiff. Relax!" "If I relax any more than this, I'll drop the bat." Scully sighed in exasperation, very close to telling Mulder what he could actually do with said bat, even though from a purely medical standpoint she knew it was physiologically impossible. "I meant that you need to relax your body more, Scully. Your hands are just fine. Here, let me show you. Scully turned to hand him the bat, but he waved her off. "Stand still. *This* is where your feet go." Without warning, Mulder wrapped himself around Scully from behind, his feet pushing hers into place as his body molded itself to her backside. "Mulder, what -" "This is the only way, Scully. You just weren't getting the hang of it. Now pay attention." As if there was any way *not* to pay attention. If not for the fact that they were holding a softball bat, this would have looked incredibly obscene to the casual passerby. Scully's vision began to blur, and she snapped herself back to the present with a gasp of fresh air. A fine sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead, and she knew it had nothing to do with the noonday heat. "Thanks, Mulder. I've got the idea." She tried in vain to remove herself from his grasp. "I doubt it. Hold still, will you?" Her struggles had only served to place her posterior achingly close to Mulder's mid-section, which was also feeling the heat of the day. Or the heat of *something*. "Fine. Can we continue?" "Good. You plant your feet so .... then you swing the bat. Follow through with your whole body. That's the only way you'll get any distance on the ball." The whole scenario was repeated several times before Mulder's latent sense of perversity kicked in. "Now, if you *really* want to look professional, you have to swing your hips." "EXCUSE me?" "Sure! Haven't you ever watched the pros? They plant their feet, lock eyes with the pitcher and then do this *swing" thing with their hips. Like this." And damned if he didn't show her. In one swift move, Mulder pressed his pelvis into her backside and made a sweeping circle with his hips. And *her* hips. And damn if it didn't feel incredible. He knew that as soon as she had access to her gun she'd most likely kill him, so he planned to enjoy every single moment he had left. It was an agonizing enjoyment, however. He'd been rock hard since the moment he'd first touched her and to actually feel the heat of her against him was almost enough to push him over the edge right there in front of God and everyone. And still he pressed on. Holding her closer still, he whispered against her ear, "Ever made it to first base, Scully?" A flush suffused her body as she whispered hoarsely, "Not recently." He wants to play? I can play this game, too. "What about *you*, Mulder?" "I can only hope." With that, he gave up all hope of redemption and proceeded to trail a soft line of wet kisses from her ear to her collarbone. Her tank top was soaked with sweat and the moment he nipped at the base of her neck, every hair on her body stood on end as goosebumps broke out on her flesh. "Mmm, you smell good." "I do not. I need a shower." *A cold one* she thought. "Take me home, Mulder." "My place is closer." And there was no doubt in her mind just exactly how the morning's *practice* would end. Planting a hard kiss on her mouth, he pulled her toward the car, tossing their gear unceremoniously in the back seat. ********* Mulder pushed the elevator button impatiently. "Come on, come on..." "Mulder-" "I know. This is insane." In chorus they looked at each other and said, "Stairs!" Taking the steps two at a time, they arrived, panting, on Mulder's doormat. Fumbling with the key, they were finally granted entrance. Scully turned to engage the deadbolts as Mulder disappeared down the hall. The sound of running water greeted her as she rounded the corner to his bedroom. "I believe you said you needed a shower?" Mulder leered as pulled her toward the bathroom. "You know what they used to say - *save water, shower with a friend.*" Hastily shedding their clothes, they stepped under the cascading heat, aching muscles groaning with relief. "Oh God, I'm going to be sore tomorrow," Scully sighed, the unintentional meaning of her words escaping her. "Yeah? Let's hope so." Mulder grinned, his mouth fastening to hers with a kiss of searing intensity. Water pouring over their bodies only served to heighten their excitement. One hand found a breast, as his other hand supported her bottom. Nibbling and licking at her lips, his thumb and fingers mimicked the action, stroking and pulling on her nipple until she nearly screamed in frustration. Scully lifted one leg, wrapping it around Mulder's and pulling him closer. She felt herself pressed firmly against the wall of the shower as he moved his free hand to the part of her that ached most for his touch. As his hand slid back and forth through the slick heat he encountered, her entire body quivered in anticipation. The steady stroking brought her closer and closer to the edge and she reached out in kind, encircling his erection in her small hand. Movement matched movement as she shuddered once, twice and then with a cry, shattered beneath his touch. Never once breaking the rhythm, he lifted her back against the shower wall, thrusting smoothly into her still-spasming depths. "Second base, Scully," he panted, feeling his control beginning to slip. Still he pushed on. "Oh ... Mulder ... again... again ... I'm ... oh!" Once more, her climax took control, her body pulsing around his swelling erection. "Third -" he gasped, feeling the tightening in his groin that signaled his impending release. Scully arched her back, driving him in more deeply than she thought possible. The slight change was all that was needed. Losing his frail grasp on reality, Mulder exploded into her, barely cognizant of her whispered words... "Home run, Mulder." Scully smiled, holding on as they both slipped back into reality. Much later, wrapped in fluffy, oversized towels, Mulder said, "Wow. What happened here, Scully?" "I think it's called *batting practice*, Mulder." "*Practice*? That means we have to keep doing it, right?" "Without a doubt. Practice on a regular basis is a good thing." "A *very* good thing," Mulder agreed, dropping his towel to the floor. "Show me that *first base, second base, third base* thing again..." FINI 3-23-99