Game, The

by Marsha Hyatt

From: "Marsha Hyatt" <> Subject: [Scully_Reyes] Fan Fiction: The Game Date: Thursday, March 21, 2002 5:42 AM

Author: Marsha Hyatt
Archive: If you want it, it's yours. Just let me know where it went. Rating: R for all that mushy stuff
Disclaimer: If CC and TPTB would read some of the stuff on this board this season would be so much better. As to ownership, I don't own them I just invited them out to play for awhile and the girls said yes. Authors Notes: This piece of fluff grew out of an IRC chat. My thanks go to Martha and Lisa and their smutty little minds. Lisa, it's time to do the happy dance. Most of all thanks to Cara "The Punctuation Queen". Cara, the cookies are in the mail! As Deborah Kerr said in Tea and Sympathy "When you speak of this and you will, be kind." This is my first effort so feedback is welcomed. Thanks and I hope y'all enjoy!

The Game

How had I let Dogget talk me into this? I am standing in the middle of The Mall on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon playing softball!


Earlier this week I was finishing up my classes at Quantico, when Dogget and Monica walked into my class.

"Agent Scully, how are you today?

"Fine John, what brings you and Agent Reyes to Quantico?"

"Just checking on a case and Monica wanted to stop by and say hello."

"Oh really, hello Monica," I said, lifting an eyebrow and smiling at the Agent

"I also had an idea I wanted to run past you."

"Sure as long as we can walk. I have an autopsy scheduled in 15 minutes."

"That's fine," he said as I gathered my things.

As I turned to gather my papers, briefcase and coat Monica came to help me. I was putting my papers into folders and as I reached for my briefcase our hands touched. The spark that passed between us was getting hard to ignore. Ever since Monica Reyes had come into my life there had been an unspoken bond between us. Over the last several months we had become friends, had dinners at each other's homes, shopped, spent time with William. She had become a very important part of my life and lately I felt a connection every time we were together. I looked into her eyes as we withdrew our hands and there was that smile, not a full smile, just a crook of the mouth. Every time I saw it a little piece of my core melted. We finished getting my papers together and started the walk to the autopsy suites.

"Dana have you ever heard of the FBI softball team?" John asked

"Mulder made me go to a game once. The FBI team lost if I remember correctly."

"The team is much better now. Women are playing and that's where you come in."

"Oh really, how?"

"Agent Williams just found out she is expecting twins and that leaves us without a shortstop. Do you play softball?"

"I ran track in high school and college but that was a while ago."

"All we need is a warm body to round out the team. We play the CIA on Saturday so it's a big game. Can you do it?"

We were nearing the suites and I needed to go so I agreed I would play on Saturday. As I turned to leave a thought occurred to me and I turned. "Agent Reyes, are you playing?"

"Yes, I play third base," she said with that smile and turned to follow Dogget out of the building.

For the rest of the day thoughts of Monica Reyes in a tight softball uniform came unbidden into my head and for some unknown reason made me smile.


Saturday dawned clear and sunny it was one of those perfect Washington days, where the buildings downtown shone a little brighter and the flags snapped in the wind. I had left William at Mom's so I was free for the day. I had picked up my uniform at the Hoover Building on Friday and as I put it on I was a bit worried that it was too tight. It had been a while since I had worn anything other than a suit. As I laced up the cleats and dug my old mitt out of the closet I wondered just how good Reyes was on the field.

We had run together a few times since Williams birth. I was determined to get back my pre-baby form, and she had the endurance of a marathon runner. On more than one occasion she lapped me as we ran the Tidal Pool by the Jefferson Memorial. Just last week we were running and she lost me in a crowd. When I caught up she was lounging by a fence giving me the "what took you so long look". After that we went back to my place and relieved William's baby sitter. I went to take a shower and when I came out, Monica was sound asleep with William on her chest slumbering away. I stood there in the doorway watching that sweet scene and knowing that she had been sent into my life for a reason.

I threw on a leather bomber jacket that had been my Dad's and headed out. The drive was surprisingly quick because of light Saturday traffic. As I pulled up to the diamonds on The Mall I saw Dogget shagging fly balls and whipping them back to the catcher. I noticed Pendrell, Skinner and Folmer all on the field but no Monica. Getting out of my car I headed to the field. Skinner ran over to me smiling and welcomed me.

"Dogget said he got you to play but I didn't believe him. It's good to see you Scully."

"I couldn't let the team down now could I? We have to put a hurt on these CIA boys." I said grinning.

I started to walk to the dugout and saw Monica's Pathfinder pull up next to my car. I could hear driving guitar riffs coming from her speakers. As she opened the door the music spilled out and Monica's voice joined into the chorus:

Answer my prayers and answer the phone
Think twice about it honey
Turn around and come on home
Lover stop Lover don't
Lover stop
Lover lover please

Seeing me, Monica waved and turned off the engine dragging a bag out of the backseat. Slamming the door, she headed to the dugout and deposited an equipment bag at the benches. I walked in to the dugout as Monica shed her New Orleans Zephyrs jacket and for a moment I couldn't talk. Monica looked like she had been born to wear the uniform. As I slowly regained the power of speech Monica pulled a batting glove and a mitt from the bag. Turning to me she asked.

"Do you want to warm up?"

My internal monologue screamed "I'm way past warm". "Sure, let me get my mitt."

We went to a corner of the field and started to throw catch and talk about the game. After twenty minutes the game was started and we got underway. Watching Monica play was a revelation. I knew she was athletic but not on this level. If a hit came her way she caught it, if a runner tried to tag up she somehow found a way to get them out. I had a perfect vantage point from my position to watch her moves; I had to keep bringing myself back to the action because I found myself watching her. The game was tied in the bottom of the 9th and it was my turn at bat. I had done well at the plate much to Dogget's surprise. As I walked up to take my cuts I heard Monica's voice cheering me on. I stepped into the box and glanced at the dugout. That was my first mistake. Monica was pressed up against the fence cheering for me to get a hit. My mind and body went to mush; the pitch sailed right by me without my even noticing it. All I heard was Strike One. I shook my head trying to clear the image that was seared there. Then as I squared my shoulders and assumed my stance, I made mistake number two. I let my focus go off of the pitcher and stray back to the dugout. Monica was bending over facing away from me. Do you have any idea how hard it is to bat when you can't breathe? Take it from me it's damn near impossible. Strike Two. I called time and stepped out of the batter's box trying to regain any sense of control I had. I knew if I was going to stay in this game I was going to have to employ desperate measures. No one knew my secret; I am a switch hitter. I stepped back into the box changing sides. This was enough to confuse the pitcher and he laid one right into the sweet spot of my bat. I felt the ping and knew I had crushed the ball. I started to run the base path and as I passed the dugout all I saw was Monica clapping and cheering me on. Rounding third I saw the entire team waiting for me at home plate, but the only arm's I ran into was Monica's.

We won the game actually creaming the CIA team by six runs, thanks to my two run homer. The teams shook hands and plans were made to go out for a beer to celebrate but all I wanted to do was get Monica alone.

"Monica, do you want to go back to my place and shower before we meet up with these guys?"

"That sounds good" she said, and called to the other players, "We'll catch up, okay?

We walked to the cars and at the last minute Monica offered to drive. "We can pick up your car later," she said. I climbed into the SUV and buckled myself in as Monica climbed in on the driver's side. The images from the game kept playing in my head, and I felt myself growing more aroused by the minute. This had been coming for a while, the glances, and the touches; they had all been leading to this. I loved Mulder, emphasis on loved. I would always have a place in my heart and soul for him, but he couldn't give me what I need. I knew she had been with Folmer but I suspect that was more like Jack and me and the disaster that relationship had been. I had been alone for so long before William came into my life. He opened my heart to the possibility of love again. Monica was so good with him she played with him, cuddled him and loved him as if he were her own child. The night he was born, she called me beautiful. At the time I looked like twenty miles of bad road but the conviction with which she said the words touched me. Now as we drove to my home all I wanted in the world was to feel her lips against mine.

I turned the lights on in the den as we arrived home.

Wanting to delay the return to the team at the bar. I asked, "Do you want something to drink?"

"Do you have beer? It's a thing with me--play softball, drink beer." She smiled. "I played on a team in New Orleans and after the games we killed half the Dixie beer in the city."

"I think I have some YingLing in the fridge, hold on." As I walked into the kitchen she followed, I found the bottle and handed it to her as I opened a drawer looking for a bottle opener.

"No need," she said as she deftly popped the top off by placing the cap edge on the counter and hitting the bottle just right. I watched as she took a long pull, the delight evident on her face. As she lowered the bottle a thin line of foam trickled from the corner of her mouth. Without thinking I reached up and brushed it away with my thumb. What I had just done hit me as Monica's eyes grabbed mine and held. We gazed into each other's eyes for a long moment and then as if she could read my mind her hand wound into my hair at the back of my neck and pulled me in for a kiss. I couldn't breathe. Monica was kissing me, and before I knew what I was doing I was kissing her back. My mind was trying frantically to process what was happening but it finally gave up and gave in to the pleasure that was the feel of her lips. A mewl of need rose in my throat as her hand played up my back and brought me closer to her body. I couldn't hold back any longer. My hands wove into her hair and sketched down her neck. That action seemed to ignite a fire that she had been trying to hold back. Monica broke the kiss and attacked my neck, sucking and nipping at skin as I moaned at her touch. She backed me up against the counter. The press of her body against mine was making me tremble with the need that I had been denying for so long. Her hands seemed to be everywhere on me stroking, grabbing, kneading drawing reactions from me that had been dormant for so long.

"Monica...wait. Slow down," I breathed

"What, what's wrong, are you all right?" She pulled back looking deeply into my eyes.

"I'm fine, I just want to slow down."

A slow smile crept onto her face and she proceeded to slowly kiss me until I couldn't think anymore. Her hand tickled up my side and palmed my breast drawing a low moan out of me. I arched into her as I felt her smile against my lips. It had been so long since anyone had touched me it all seemed new, but when I felt her hand skim down and come to rest on the hollow of my hip all I could do was thank whatever God there was out there that this was happening. As Monica slowly drove me crazy with her hands and mouth I tried to retain a little of the control I'm famous for.

"Monica?" I said against her lips


"Can we move this to a better venue?"

"Sure, where?"

"I did promise you a shower."

The gleam in her eye was magical as I took her hand and led her down the hall. Walking into the bathroom I leaned over the tub adjusting the water till the temperature was perfect, Monica's body molded to me. She straightened up, and her arms came around as her fingers started to undo the buttons of my jersey. Skimming the shirt off my shoulders she unhooked my bra and slid the straps down cupping my breasts. I leaned back into her warm body she played with my drove me mad with her hands. Sliding my shaking hands over hers I took one sliding it down my body to the place that needed her most. Monica made love to my neck as her hands set a rhythm that my body tried to follow, but I was on the verge of melting to the floor. As she cupped me through my uniform she hissed.

"Are you going to take these off?"

My hands shakily unbuckled the belt and slide the zipper down as Monica's hand resumed the position she had been in before except now she was nearing her goal and I was about to go over the edge. I turned in her arms breaking the contact between my body and her hands and attacked the buttons on her jersey with single-minded intensity, stripping off her jersey and then the sports bra. I finally saw how beautiful her body was. I ran my hands down her neck to her torso and filled them with her breasts. Soft and hard all at the same time, her nipples were brown to my pink, her skin light olive to my alabaster. The contrast of my hands on her skin fascinated me. I leaned in for a kiss and was greeted by a one that seared away the memory of all other before it. Soon we were both standing under the hot spray of the shower but getting clean was the furthest thing from our minds. We took the time to learn each other's bodies the places that made us quiver and moan. Monica brought me to the edge and held me as I fell. After the water started to go cold we toweled off and climbed into my bed hold each other, talking and making love well into the night.

Needless to say we never made it back for the beer with the guys.

If you enjoyed this story, please send feedback to Marsha Hyatt